Title: The Future

Part: Two

Couple: Jackie/Hyde

Fandom: That '70s Show

Words: 1,680

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Thanks to the two people (Katt & KayJay) who reviewed part one! This is supposed to be the last part, and I am still not sure about the ending…

Valentine's Day – a "holiday" he abhors – rolled around and he had to spend the whole day listening to Fez talk about how he and Jackie are finally going to do it.

"Figures," he stated with a roll of his eyes. "The princess would do it with you on a made-up day of romance."

"Not a princess, Hyde. A goddess."

But late that night while Donna and Eric are out on their date and Fez was supposed to be doing it with Jackie, he sat in his chair alone in the dark nursing a beer when she stumbled in. Tears streaked her face; her eyes were puffy and red. She paused mid-step when she noticed him sitting there; he paused mid-chug when he noticed her walking in. She waffled between deciding to walk into the room that has been her sanctuary for years and walking back out into the cold Wisconsin winter. Even after everything he went through with her, his stomach still clinched at the sight of her tears and him setting down his beer became an unspoken invitation for her to come into his sanctuary. She didn't say anything at first, just sunk down into the well-worn couch and tried to contain her emotions. He tried to resist comforting her as he always did before the shit show that was Chicago.

She failed. Miserably.

He failed. Miserably.

Her renewed sobbing propelled him over to her and despite all the pain and suffering they both experienced, she was back to sobbing in his arms.

"Oh god, it was terrible! I couldn't…I couldn't do it," she bemoaned. "And he got so angry."

He worried that Fez had hit her or something else just as terrible. His blood began to boil, and he was this close to storming out and kicking some ass. But she assured him that hadn't happened.

Between her tears he barely managed to catch the snippets of what happened and he still wasn't sure when she started to fall asleep on the couch with her head in his lap. He carried to her to his bedroom under the stairs with no hopes or illusions of doing it with her. He deposited her on his cot and she stared at him with ruined make-up and hair as he rummaged in his drawers for something for her to wear to sleep in. Handing her one of his concert t-shirts, he told her that she should stay here and he'll sleep on the couch or something. He had reached the doorway when her reply made him pause.

"Thank you, Steven."

Softly. Almost like a whisper. He looked at her with that stare that always made her shiver right down to her core and nodded his head. The old Steven would have said a gruff "whatever" but this Steven's answer is almost as soft as hers.

"Of course, doll."

She gasped because he hadn't called her doll in months, but he kept walking away. Silently berating himself for the slip up, he plopped down on the worn out sofa and tried to force himself to fall asleep.

She was gone the next morning and neither of mentioned that night when they saw each other later that afternoon. They never said anything about that night other than Fez announcing to the whole gang (including Kelso, who is up visiting from Chicago with baby Betsey) he and Jackie are over three days later. Kelso congratulated their foreign friend for keeping Jackie around for a month (he lost twenty bucks to Eric on that one) and on getting out from under the Bitch's thumb. Without even thinking about it – as though it's a reflex – Hyde fogged him in the arm.

"What the hell, Hyde?" Kelso yelled. "What was the hell was that for?"

"Uh," he stumbled as he searched his brain for a good excuse. "I just missed you, man."

This time, however, nobody believed him. They all looked at him with mouths agape in shock.

"Hyde, you just punched Kelso. For Jackie!" Eric exclaimed.

He glanced at all of them from behind his sunglasses but his eyes settled on her. Shocked was not the right word to express the emotion her face.

"Whatever," he mumbled.

His answer was unsatisfactory, apparently, as she jumped up and fled the basement. Only he saw her brushing aside a stray tear. The pressure of everyone's stares was unbearable, though, and he stomped up the stairs to the kitchen. He headed straight for the fridge planning to snag a beer when the distorted face of one Red Forman caught his eye. The raven-haired girl he used to date has her arms thrown around Red and the man clearly looked uncomfortable with this state of events. He stood there just watching as Red awkwardly patted the girl's back but her wailing even pierced his ears through the sliding glass door separating the scene outside from the scene inside the house. Eventually he turned away, feeling as though he was invading something, and walked through the swinging door.

That night at dinner Red took away his food and called him a dumbass. And this time Mrs. Forman didn't stick up for him. In fact, he thought he saw her nodding along in agreement with Red's assessment.

They avoided one another for weeks. Every time he walked into the basement or The Hub, she would make up some lame excuse and leave. Each time she walked into the basement or The Hub, he would make up some shitty excuse and leave. Donna's room (which she moved into after her and Fez's breakup) and Grooves were places completely off limits to him and her, respectively. It was an unspoken rule but a rule none the same.

That is, until the end of March when she showed up right as he was closing up for the evening. He had already turned the signed on the door to 'closed' and was locking up the register when the door flew open. He barked out "We're closed" without glancing up.

"Steven…" she started but his glare made her stop.

"The store is closed, Jackie," he snapped at her and went back to counting the cash in the drawer.

"Why did you do it?" She asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Do what?"

"Why did you hit Kelso?"

"I don't…" He said dropping the cash into the door and walking over towards the listening couch.

"Don't you dare say 'I don't know', Steven!" She demanded as she walked over towards him and stood directly in front of him.

"I don't know."

"Your wife shows up and you spend every day burning me, but you hit Kelso for making fun of me. You stare at me while we're watching TV in the basement when you think I'm not paying attention but you glare at me when I do notice."

"Uh," he interjected. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do," she corrected.

"No, I don't," he snapped with a glare.

"Yes, you do," she glowered back.

"Whatever."

"Ugh," she groaned. "You're so damn frustrating. Why can't you just admit it?"

"Admit what?" He snapped back.

"Admit that you made a mistake. Admit that you still love me."

"Bullshit," he replied.

"God, why did I even bother coming here?" She bemoaned. "You're still the same. Nonresponsive. Noncommittal. Oh wait, you can commit – to everyone but me!"

She turned to walk back out the door, turned to walk away from him again but she paused with her hand on the doorknob. With a sigh, she turned back around.

"What's so wrong with me? What's so messed up with me that I can't even do it with Fez? He meets every requirement on my list and just when we're about to do it–"

"Jackie, I don't want to hear about you doing it with Fez!"

"Why?" She cried out. "Because the idea of someone having sex with me is that repulsive to you?"

"Because I don't want to hear about another guy touching you! Because thinking about a guy putting his hands on you makes me sick!"

Silence. Dead silence. They both glowered at one another, chests heaving in frustration and anger.

"I hate you!" She screamed at him.

"Yeah? Well, I hate you, too!" He snapped back at her.

And then his lips are on hers, or her lips are on his. Either way, he tangled his hands in her hair as their tongues tangle together. They were both wrestling for control of the situation, of the person they are currently kissing. Next thing he knew, they were on the couch and he was on top of her running his hands across her back and pushing himself into her. He moved his lips from hers and started leaving feathery kisses down the side of her neck, stopping to suck on the skin over her collarbone.

"I hate you," she gasped out as she arched her back. She moaned as he cupped her breast; he groaned as she pressed her pelvis into his.

"Me too," he replied before capturing her lips again. He told himself that this doesn't change anything, but when he closed his eyes the future plays out.

"I love you," he whispers in her ear before resuming their make-out session. He's lying on top of her on the bed of an indistinguishable hotel room.

"I love you, too" she moans as he runs his hands over the bodice of her gown."But, Steven! Watch my dress!"

"Jackie," he groans, but she pushes him off of her and holds at arms' length.

"What did I tell you to call me?"

"Jackie, I'm not calling you that every damn day."

"Steven," she demands with a cocked eyebrow.

"Jackie," he replies with his own cocked eyebrow.

"Steven," she says with a pout. "Puh-lease."

"Fine," he caves when she juts out her lip. "Mrs. Steven Hyde."