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

ONE DIFFERENCE:
HYDE DOESN'T LIE

Part III

"Laid him out with one punch!" Donna said over the phone. "You should've been there. God, I wish he'd do that to Eric."

Jackie was lying on her bed, stomach-side down. Donna had called her at 9:30 at night, hours after Steven brought her home. The bandaged slice in her hand stung, and her breast still felt the pressure of Michael's fingers, and she hoped Steven's fist had made Michael's face hurt.

"Unlike my ex," Jackie said, "yours wouldn't feel you up when you've told him not to. Though I don't know why you ever wanted Eric to touch you 'cause he's all eww."

"Yeah..." Donna said. "Kelso's gonna have a shiner for at least a week. Hyde didn't hold back. My dad sent Kelso home with a bag of frozen peas on his eye."

"Did Steven say anything to Michael, you know, before or after the punch?"

Jackie's fingers were digging in her comforter, but she grasped it at Donna's answer: "Did he ever." Donna was laughing. "Hyde's, like, appointed himself your personal bodyguard. He did the same for Eric back in middle school... and Fez in Freshman year. Huh. Maybe Hyde's got himself a career path—"

"Focus, Donna!"

"Sorry. Hyde told Kelso if he ever touches you again in a way you don't like, he'll find himself in the E.R. And the best thing is that Kelso actually seemed to believe him. He can be really dense when it comes to that stuff."

"You don't have to tell me," Jackie said. "Michael doesn't understand that 'No' is a complete sentence."

"Mm-hmm. He tried making out with my neck last year during your roller-disco contest."

"He did?" Jackie sat up on the bed. "God, what a creep! How could I have ever fallen for him?"

"Well—"

"It's a rhetorical question, Donna. But I have one that isn't. Have you ever done something, made an error in judgment, that you completely regret?"

Silence met Jackie's ear, but it was followed by a burst of static. Donna must have heaved a huge, Amazonian breath. "What did you do?" she said.

"Nothing! I was asking hypothetically. And, hypothetically, if you made such a mistake, how would you go about correcting it?"

"Depends on what the mistake is," Donna said. "Can you be more specific?"

Jackie leaned back against her headboard. The poster above her stated, "Love is forever and ever." With Michael, she'd desperately wanted to believe that was true. She'd fantasized away his bad behavior and imagined him capable of such devotion. With Steven, in that one kiss they shared, she'd actually felt a love beyond this life—and the feeling had frightened her beyond comprehension.

"I lied about—" Jackie said but caught herself. "I mean, what if I lied about something really important? And another person got the wrong impression and wrote me off?"

"Easy. Just tell that other person the truth."

"What if it's too late?"

"If what you lied about is really important,'" Donna said, "and the other person is someone you care about, then it's worth the risk of finding out. Unless you killed her mother or something. You didn't—"

"No, you big goon! This is all hypothetical anyway."

"Okay, okay..." Donna sounded annoyed, but her irritation shifted elsewhere. "Oh, you know what's not hypothetical? How much Eric's basement stinks. I mean, it really smells. I think he's farting more now that I'm barely coming around."

Jackie couldn't disagree, but as Donna went into a litany of Eric's faults, Jackie stared at her wounded hand and remembered the concern in Steven's voice, the gentleness of his touch, and how he'd physically supported her for a half-hour. She'd had one chance with him, and because her mind was too slow to catch up with her heart, she'd ruined it.

The next morning, Jackie went to the Formans', hoping she'd catch Steven before work. She didn't and instead found Donna, Eric, Fez, and Mrs. Forman all in the kitchen. The place smelled like freshly-baked cookies, which made sense since Mrs. Forman had just made a batch. She was scooping them from a cooking sheet onto a plate, and for a brief moment, Jackie imagined her own mother doing the same thing. But Pam Burkhart wasn't a domestic person; she gave domestics orders.

"What's going on?" Jackie said. Donna was leaning against the kitchen bar, away from Eric and Fez who were sitting at the table. Fez had a list in his hands, and he was writing things down. "Are you planning a bank heist or something?" Jackie's mood brightened at the thought. "Ooh, can I be the lookout? I've got this great, glittery mask I can wear—"

"Slow down, Bonnie," Donna said. "They're just planning a ridiculous party."

Jackie's face froze in horror. "Not with clowns—"

"No, a 'Let's Get Hyde a Woman' party," Fez said, and Jackie's expression didn't unfreeze.

Eric nodded. "Yeah, for once, Hyde's gonna fall in in love, and we'll be able to make fun of him. We'll be all, 'Hey, everyone. Hyde's in love!' Ha-ha-ha—BURN!"

Jackie forced life back into her features. "There's nothing burn-worthy about a man in love." She sat at the table just as Mrs. Forman brought over the plate of cookies. They were chocolate chip, and Jackie reached for one.

Eric deflected her wounded hand with Fez's pencil. "Don't touch those with that. You'll infect the cookies with your demon blood."

"Honey, be nice to Jackie," Mrs. Forman said, and Jackie stuck her tongue out at Eric. Donna did the same from across the kitchen, but Eric didn't seem to spot it.

"Jackie, sweetie, let me see your hand." Mrs. Forman examined Jackie's healing wound. "That's looks a lot better than yesterday. I think we made the right choice with the butterfly bandages. How does it feel?"

"Tender when I move my fingers," Jackie said, "but otherwise fine."

"Good." Mrs. Forman picked up a cookie and passed to her.

"Thank you." Jackie took a bite. The cookie was the right mix of sweet and salty. Mrs. Forman definitely knew how to bake, and so did Jackie in her own way, but not with food. Jackie's expertise lay in manipulating situations for her own ends. "This party is a great idea," she said. "I'm gonna find the perfect match for Steven. After all, my nickname is 'The Queen of Romance'."

"No one calls you that," Donna said. She approached the table and swiped a cookie, and Jackie suppressed the urge to bat her giant, cranky hand away.

"Everybody, listen to Fez," Fez said. He had his pencil again and underlined something on his list. "Now, we will each bring no less than two and no more than five girls for Hyde, okay? I will console the rejects with a hot-oil massage." He grinned. "I will be nude."

Donna headed for the kitchen's glass door. "And I'm outta here. The radio station's giving away a van, and I gotta work. I will be clothed."

She left, and Fez said, "Too bad. I will imagine her nude."

"Well, I think it's a great idea," Mrs. Forman said. "Steven is almost a man, and he needs to meet a nice girl who will help him find his way."

Jackie's stomach clenched. He'd already met a nice, beautiful girl—Jackie.

She mulled over her next move as Eric complained about being in hell. Mr. Forman came into the kitchen, and people were talking, but none of their conversation registered. Not until Mrs. Forman said, "We're having a little party for Steven so he can meet his Miss Right."

"I've gotta go," Jackie said and stood from the table. She had to find the ugliest girls possible, and where better to find them than at the mall?

Hyde climbed down the basement stairs with a deck of cards in his pocket. He was ready for a night of TV and light gambling, but more than his friends were downstairs. Mrs. Forman ushered him into the basement and announced his arrival—"a caring, intelligent, snazzy young man"—to a room full of chicks. Music blasted from Forman's stereo. Beer was flowing freely from a keg, and strangely Mrs. Forman didn't seem to care.

"Oh, my..." she grasped Hyde's arm, as if she were afraid he'd bolt, "you look so handsome! Your shirt's all tucked in and formal—and, look, it has buttons!" She laughed her loud, joyous laugh; then she ran up the basement stairs, like she'd overstayed her welcome.

Hyde glanced around the room, searching for Forman and Fez. He recognized most of the girls here. They were from school, but why were they here? Fez emerged from a crowd of blondes, and Hyde pulled him aside. "Hey, man, what's goin' on?" Hyde said. "Thought we were watchin' Saturday Night Live."

"Yeah, change of plans," Fez said. "We're having a party with girls. A keg and girls. For no reason whatsoever. And your mother thinks it's a keg of apple cider. So shh!"

Hyde had no problem with any of that. "Great."

"And there's no agenda," Fez said.

"All right."

"Stop grilling me, you bastard! This is just a party!"

"I got it, Fez, and I got it."

These chicks were just what Hyde needed. Crazy ideas had corrupted his gray matter last night. He wasn't a relationship guy. Continually falling for girls who weren't available should've clued him in on that. If he really wanted something to work out between him and a chick, his freakin' heart would've made better choices.

He spotted a busty brunette he knew put-out, Andrea. He intended to say more than hello, but Fez held him back.

"Hyde," Fez said, "allow me to introduce you to a special lady."

From there, things got weird. Fez bounced him from girl to girl, giving him three minutes with each before tossing him to the next. They asked him questions, and they all seemed interested in him. He rarely had trouble finding someone to screw, but the easier, the better.

Jackie had rejected thirty girls to bring to Steven's party. The mall had too-good a selection today, girls with big breasts, those with a high-class fashion sense, and greasy-haired sluts wearing rock tees. They would all appeal to Steven's libido, and she couldn't risk that.

Her miracle arrived at The Hub later in the evening: Big Rhonda. She was as much of a giant as Donna with a pageboy haircut. She also snorted and wore glasses. Steven would never go for her.

She was perfect.

Jackie invited her to the party then hurried home. She picked out a strappy top and skirt combo that showed off her shoulders and arms, enough to be alluring without being suggestive. She left her hair down because it was one of her top five features. Plus, she liked how Steven's fingers felt stroking it—the one time they had.

Her makeup played up her eyes. Her lips needed to be kissably nude. She wanted as few barriers as possible between herself and Steven tonight, and Cosmo said bright lipstick and sticky lip gloss could be turn-offs.

She arrived at the party just in time to go unnoticed. She ensconced herself by the basement stairs and observed. Fez was leading Steven around from girl to girl. Some were prettier than others, but none of them were Jackie Burkhart.

And no one was Steven Hyde. He had on a dress shirt instead one of his grubby tees. It was tucked into his jeans, and he looked respectable, like someone she could introduce to her father.

Ten minutes later, Fez stopped showing Steven around as if he were a prized cow. Jackie inched closer to the couch, where they were standing. Eavesdropping was difficult with the loud music thumping through the basement, but she had to keep Steven from spotting her. She placed herself strategically behind a broad-shouldered girl and listened.

"So," Fez said, "what do you think?"

"You know, I think if I time this right," Steven said, "I can nail every single one of these girls... tonight."

Jackie gasped then clamped her mouth shut. Steven was spouting male bravado. He couldn't mean it.

"No, no, no, no, no," Fez said, and Jackie risked peeking out from her broad-shouldered camouflage. Fez was pointing a finger in the air. "You're supposed to pick just one. To love, not nail. Love."

"Yeah, right." Steven clutched his belt with one hand and moved closer to the stereo. Damn, why did he have to look so foxy tonight? Fez followed, and Jackie did, too, concealing herself behind other girls.

"Okay, listen to me, Johnny Cool," Fez said. "I threw this party for you so you can find one girlfriend to love you. And that is all: one."

Steven glanced around the basement. "You set this up?"

"Yeah. We all thought you needed help finding a quality woman, so—"

"What?" Steven scowled. "Man, you sit around and talk about me? Is that what's goin' on? Look, I don't want your help."

He strode toward the basement door and left. Jackie pursued but not too quickly. She didn't want him to think she was stalking him. She counted ten long seconds before opening the door. He'd cleared the last step of the staircase outside, and she began her own quiet climb.

A breeze hit her at the top of the stairs. She intended to chase casually after Steven—to bump into him as if she'd been roaming the neighborhood—but she stiffened at the Formans' picket fence. The sight on the driveway had rooted her in place. Donna was introducing Steven to some raven-haired skank wearing a WFPP shirt. He slid off his sunglasses, and their removal revealed the face of one smitten.

He shook the interloper's hand, and his gaze became hooked on her, just as he'd hooked his sunglasses on his shirt. Jackie didn't know what to do. He was uttering stupid things at this girl, the way boys did when they were in Jackie's own presence.

A thousand curses pricked her mind at once, and she hid herself behind the picket fence. The interloper, Steven, and Donna passed by her and climbed down the basement stairs. Jackie counted a short twenty seconds before following.

The next quarter hour was spent observing. Observing and not interfering. And Jackie's stomach churned at every awful thing she witnessed. Steven fawned over that girl—Melissa—like he was someone who couldn't get better. Melissa ordered him around the same way Jackie used to order Michael, and instead of telling Melissa off, Steven actually did what she said.

Jackie pressed herself back against basement stairs. Steven and Melissa were sitting on the deep-freeze together, and he listened intently as she went on about the Chicago music scene. He tried to interject a few times, but she cut him down, and he shut up like an obedient puppy.

Jackie didn't like it. This girl was tapping into a part of Steven he wasn't aware of, and it was dangerous. He never kowtowed to anyone. Refused to be controlled. And it meant his good deeds for people were genuine, which Jackie loved. His motives were pure and came from his heart, not from some attempt to get something in return—like Michael.

What did Steven hope to get from this girl? What had he found in her that he hadn't found elsewhere—a pair of sizable breasts? A round, pert butt? Maybe her job at the radio station was the draw, the fact she spun rock records. But none of these things explained his desperation to impress her tonight, unless...

His total lack of experience in relationships had caught up to him. He wanted to mean more to someone than a good time, but his confidence with women was sexual, not emotional. Melissa had to be the first girl—after his disastrous pursuit of Donna—that he was interested in beyond his body, and Melissa was taking full advantage of that.

Jackie had to warn him. Melissa could sour him against relationships forever, just as Michael had soured Jackie. She waited, though, until Melissa hopped off the deep-freeze. Steven remained seated, and his gaze tracked Melissa through the crowd of girls, all the way to the basement bathroom.

Jackie dashed to him, but a sad thought rained down on her. If Melissa was the first girl who'd engaged Steven's heart after Donna, then Jackie hadn't been his second attempt at love. What he'd felt during their kiss had to be platonic or even—as gross as it was—familial. He saw her as a little sister, as someone to protect but nothing more.

"Steven," she said, but he didn't seem to hear her. He was twirling an empty plastic cup between his hands. "Steven," she said a little louder, "it looks like you've found a potential girlfriend."

"Yeah," he said, sounding dazed; then he blinked and shook his head. "No. No way. Girlfriends are for chumps like Forman." He squinted. "Jackie? When the hell'd you get here?"

"Oh, I've been here."

His focus pulled completely away from the basement bathroom. "How's your hand?"

"Mrs. Forman says it's healing well." She held up her hand and showed him the bright, long scab with its butterfly bandages.

"Funky." He slid his finger down the uninjured edge of her palm. His touch was careful, concerned, and it piled ache after ache into her chest. "Does it hurt?"

A lot, but he wouldn't understand the reason why. "Not really. It's like a mouth that's been stapled shut."

He smirked. "Don't say something like that to me. Too easy."

"Anyway," she pushed her hair from her shoulder, "seems like you've made your choice, but did you talk to every girl here?"

"Yup—wait," his brow furrowed, "you were in on this li'l scheme of a party, too?"

"Not the way you might think. So, Melissa's the best of the bunch?"

"Why do you care?"

"I believe in comparison shopping." She glanced behind herself at the bathroom. She didn't want Melissa walking in on their conversation. "Sometimes glossy packaging can disguise a bad deal. You shouldn't make your final purchase until you've seen all your options."

"She's not a hooker, Jackie. I'm not paying for her."

"That's not what I meant. There's still a girl here you haven't even considered going out with."

"Big Rhonda? Yeah, I talked to her. She just came for the keg."

"No," she said and inhaled a shaky breath. He'd risked going out on a date with her half a year ago, despite not knowing how she'd act toward him. Now—regardless of how he felt or didn't feel about her—she was willing to risk utter humiliation."I'm talking about me."

Steven stared at her dully before a surge of laughter crested through him. "Whatever, Jackie. I'm not gonna appease your freakin' ego so you can feel like the 'prettiest girl' here."

He jumped off the deep-freeze and pushed past her. Melissa was out of the bathroom and talking to Donna. They were standing by the shelves under the stairs, and Melissa was writing something down on a notepad. Probably her phone number for Steven, and he was moving toward her.

Jackie had no time to think. She raced after him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around and glowered. "Jackie, get the hell over yourself. I'm not—"

She hooked her fingers over the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He resisted... for less than a second. Then he cupped the back of her head and kissed her back. She didn't have to coax him deeper into her mouth. He went there willingly. She ramped up the intensity, just as she had at Inspiration Point, and her legs grew wobbly. Unlike last time, she wasn't sitting down, and she leaned into him for support.

His arm slid firmly around her back and held her up. The warmth of his mouth, the smooth rhythm of his lips and tongue—their effect on her evolved into a frenzied revelation: she already loved him. She'd fallen in love ages ago, and she would love him until, perhaps, time stopped. She didn't understand how it could be so, only that it was so.

Steven's hand drifted from her hair to the side of her neck; then it glided over the skin of her bare shoulder. His touches were both exploratory and tender, as if savoring the contact between them. His kiss had grown hot and moist, and buried within his breaths was his voice, expressing pleasure. Little groans, barely audible, but they made her tremble. Tears rose in her closed eyes, not because she was sad or afraid. The amount of connection she felt to this boy simply overwhelmed her.

Were the kiss to last forever, she wouldn't balk at her fate. But her fingers slipped into his hair and twisted in its soft curls, and she forced herself to pull away. "Steven," she said. He didn't respond, but his eyes were fixed on hers, as focused as she'd ever encountered them. "I felt something the first time we kissed. It was just too much. I couldn't—"

"Uh-huh," he said, both cheerfully and slightly absent. "Glad your mouth isn't stapled shut."

"Wha—mmf!"

His lips were on hers again, and thoughts fled her mind He was cradling her face with both hands, and his thumbs rubbed her cheeks affectionately. She hugged his waist, and tried not to smile into the kiss but failed.

"Nice job, Hyde!" a disruptive voice shouted, and Steven withdrew from Jackie—barely. Donna was standing beside them, along with Eric and Fez. The basement had become empty of guests. Watching Jackie and Steven make out must have signaled the end of the party. "Melissa saw you two Frenching," Donna said, "told me something I'm too polite to repeat, then left."

Steven flicked his eyes in Donna's direction, "Who?" then settled them back onto Jackie. No one had quite looked at her that way before. Even in her most vivid dreams, she hadn't imagined such a look, what she could classify only as restrained adoration.

"Melissa, my coworker from the radio station," Donna said.

"The bitch you let control you for fifteen minutes," Jackie said.

Donna grimaced. "Jackie!"

"It's true! She's a man-killer, Donna. I know the type because I am the type, only I use my powers for good."

Jackie paused a moment. Steven hadn't distanced himself from her by any measure. His arm was around her waist, and he was still gazing at her. She hadn't seemed to offend him, but she hoped the rest of her wisdom wouldn't destroy their progress tonight.

"You don't take a wolf cub abandoned by its mother," she said, "and punish it for not knowing how to hunt. That won't teach it how to survive in the wild. You have to encourage a wolf to do the right thing with positive experiences and positive reinforcement."

"What?" Donna said.

Jackie shrugged. "Daddy and I watched a nature documentary on PBS last night."

Steven's hand was resting on her hip, but his fingertips grazed her elbow. His palm skimmed down to her hand and grasped it. He began leading her to his room, and her heart wracked her body with frantic beats, but Eric voiced her own question before she could: "Hyde, what are you doing?"

"Forman, consider your little party a success," Steven said. "You got me a girlfriend. Good job, man."

Jackie burst into a grin and hugged Steven's arm to her chest. "I'm your girlfriend?"

"Six months later than it had to be, but that's cool. We'll make up for lost time."

He led her faster toward his room, and she had no more doubts about their first kiss. She'd awoken something deeper in him, same as he'd done for her. A circuit was created between them, but her lie had broken the loop. His desire for connection sparked out of him, having nowhere to go but the air—and then Melissa, who would have fried the circuit beyond fixing.

Steven sneaked a kiss to Jackie's temple as he ushered her inside his room. He started to close the door, and Eric shouted, "No! Not Jackie! You weren't supposed to pick Ja—!"

Steven shut the door. A grin lit his face, and her own must have matched it. Even so, she said, "What about Melissa? You seemed to really like her."

"Temporary insanity," he said, "and a crap-substitute for the real thing." His eyes were focused on hers again and filled with the same adoration as before, only this time less restrained. "Ready to give me some positive reinforcement?"

She nodded happily and opened her arms to him. He flew into her embrace and launched them onto his cot, and they began making up for lost time.