Where You're Going
Disclaimer: That 70's Show was created by comedy GENIUSES and is acted out by some of the best, so I take no credit for their creation, just hope they don't mind a little borrowing on the side.
Summary: Hyde POV, stream of consciousness. A missing scene from "I Can't Quit You Babe," after Hyde leaves the basement and Jackie follows. J/H.
"Catch you guys later."
"Wait, wait, Steven! Where you going?"
"What do you care?
Man, that is just too funny about Foreman and Donna. Red sure knows how to burn where it really hurts. What's not so funny though is Kelso being such a man whore and trying to get his hands on Jackie again. He's a old friend—a good friend, but seriously, can't he tell that she's just not interested in him anymore?
I'm walking towards my car and I wonder how long Foreman's going to be without the Vista Cruiser. I don't want him to be bugging me all the time about using the El Camino. I've got my own life to lead, man, and chicks to drive around and make-out with. Well, at least one chick in particular.
It's kind of weird, but it's not, you know? It's weird that this whole summer I've only been with one chick, which definitely,by my standards,is aiming low, but it's even more messed up that the one chick is Jackie Burkhardt. It's not bad though. I still remember that date we went on a couple of years back, and if kissing her was hot then, it's at least ten times hotter now. Sometimes I think I could kiss her all day long. Hell, sometimes I do actually, although it's harder now that the whole gang is back and hanging out in the basement all the time.
All the more reason to get to the El Camino, though, right? When I finally get to my car, something makes me wait a minute longer, and I just feel like passing my keys from hand to hand for a while. Maybe the government has kidnapped me without my knowing. I gotta say, a couple of times I've been pretty out of it and have some trouble remember what I did the night before, and although I usually think that just means one too many beers, I could be wrong. Maybe now I've got some psychic powers, because I turn around, lean on the door of my car and there she is, rushing towards me, her cheeks pink and flushed.
I cross my arms and wait, and she just stands there, looking at me with her little princess pout on her face.
"Yes, Jackie?" I say evenly. Then, I take off my sunglasses and put them on top of the car, you know, so she can actually look me in the eye or something.
She checks around her, looking left, right, and then over her shoulder to the Foreman's house to make sure no one is there, that there's no one who can watch us. Then she launches herself at me like some crazy woman, and I have to catch her in my arms. Jackie's just short enough that her legs dangle when I lift her up to kiss her, but she has to put her arms around my neck and I have to support her with my a hands at the small of her back so she doesn't fall.
Kissing her now, well it kind of makes me feel funny and dizzy, like it's been forever since we last did this even though we were just on the couch not fifteen minutes ago doing basically the same thing, except not vertical. She's kind of squirming, like she's trying to fight me, but I'm not fighting back as long as she's not actually trying to get away. It's actually kinda hot when she does that. There's a lot of stuff about her that's pretty hot, especially now that she's not with Kelso anymore.
When we break apart I drop her to her feet, but she doesn't take her arms away from my neck.
"I love it when I can see your eyes," she says, brushing some of my hair out of my face.
I swat at her hand. "Stop it, Jackie."
She smirks and just kisses me again. Oh hell, who am I to fight the urges when they come? I kiss her back and notice how soft she is and how nice her hair feels against my hands when I hold her face. I guess all that hair care and conditioning she's always talking about really does have some nice benefits. I certainly have no objections to it, unless she's talking about it constantly, which isn't much of a problem these days if we have any chance of being alone.
It's going to be harder to find that kind of time now, and we both know it, although now that Donna's back Eric won't be hanging around and bothering me as much, but at some point and time everyone ends up in the Foreman's basement and I have to sit in my chair and there's definitely not room for two if everyone's there watching. There's always the mornings though. She's been coming earlier and earlier, almost to the point that I even told her that she might as well stay overnight if she was just going to show up at the crack of dawn, waking me up. Except she hit me when I said that, and being a gentleman, I let that go.
For example, this morning at 9am, I was up and cleaning or something, when she knocked on the back door.
"Kind of early for 'The Price Is Right,' isn't it, Jackie?" I said, but she just ignored that and we eventually found our way to the couch. Mrs. Foreman has been kind of great about giving us some private time though, ever since she caught us by the fridge that one day. She makes sure no one comes downstairs until at least ten, so Jackie and I usually have one hour alone, maybe more if she's feeling frisky and comes at 8am.
We break apart from kissing again, and she rubs her nose against my cheek, giggling because she thinks my beard tickles. "I've missed you, Steven," she says, looking up at me.
"I was gone for like, five minutes before you came out here, Jackie."
"Like I said," she says with a shrug, "I missed you."
Jackie prefers me to be on top when we make out. She says that this way her hair and clothes are less likely to get mussed up. Whatever. Either way is all good for me, and you know what, by the time she leaves her hair and her clothes are always a little mussed up. I couldn't take pride in myself otherwise.
Sometimes though, when she's on top and I'm on bottom, she has this thing where she stops kissing me and starts, I dunno, nuzzling my neck. She kind of rubs her face along my cheek, then down my neck, kind of laughing and shaking in my arms when she does that, but it feels . . . nice. It kind of breaks up the monotony of all the making-out. Maybe this is what foreplay feels like, except without the stuff . . .afterwards. It's not like I want this to get too serious or anything. Jackie seems like she'd be the type to get all mushy and gooey right away if we did it, and I don't want to ruin a good thing, not yet at least.
Eventually though, we gotta stop kissing out in the open, and I try to drag her into the car with me, but there she is again, fighting me.
She's laughing and poking me, and finally I give up and just get into the driver's seat, but then she jumps in after me and knocks me over, falling on top of me, but I'm kind of crunched on my side.
"Damn, Jackie! Get off!"
"Oh, you know you're enjoying this, Steven. Don't fight it!"
What can I do? I grab her and we're wrestling around for a few minutes. Hey, it's better than talking. Eventually though, we really have to get going or else someone, a nosy neighbor or Fez, is going to see us.
I can't even remember really how this all started, but it's not too bad. It's kind of like a while back when Jackie was convinced she loved me and stalked me all the time until I finally gave in and went out on that date with her during Veteran's Day. It bugged me then, but this time around . . . eh, I don't mind having her hovering around me. She's not too bad these days. Maybe she's finally done some growing up. Getting rid of Kelso was one of her better moves, although making out with me is definitely up there on the list.
Jackie finally gets into the passenger seat and I get the car revved up.
"Where we going?" she asks, bouncing in her seat.
"I dunno," I say. "Got any ideas?"
She puts her hand on my thigh, and this time I don't swat her hand away. "I'm good as long as it's somewhere private and it's with you."
I can't help it, it makes me smile. I lean over and take her face in my hands and kiss her hard. She squeaks a little bit when I let her go, but she's practically glowing when I'm done with her.
"Put on your seat belt," I growl as I begin pulling away.
Jackie puts her hand on her heart, batting her eyelashes, and practically mewls.
"Steven! You are SO SWEET. You care about my safety."
"God, just shut-up, Jackie!" I say, and she does, but I think she knows I don't mean it like that. I don't like telling her to shut her trap that way as much as I used to anymore, but that's only because now I've found better and more effective ways of getting her to shut her pie hole.