Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"*Messed up guitar riff* fuck." -Green Day, 1997

Chapter 1: Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)

Saturday, July 4, 1998
Point Place, Wisconsin
1:45 pm

A car door slams, off in the near distance, as predictable as the tides. Like clockwork.

Merely thirty seconds pass, and the doorbell is now ringing, over and over. Like an eight-year-old raced out of the car and got ahold of it. 

"I got it, I got it!"

Kitty races from the kitchen at lightning speed, continuing to let out a familiar battle cry. Swinging open the front door, her youngest granddaughter bursts through the door in the blink of an eye.

"I don't need a training bra, Mom!" Leah defiantly cries, racing past her bewildered Ani, "I'm too little."

Donna is right behind her, stuffing a few training bras back in Leah's duffel bag, zipping it firmly shut. Before grabbing the rest of the luggage, hauling it into the house with barely a sweat, and with a beleaguered sigh. "I needed a training bra at that age, and so do you."

She sets the rest of the luggage at the foot of the stairs, but keeps the duffel bag slung around her shoulder. As Leah tries to wrestle with the zipper, from behind. 

"Uncle Kelso said we should free all of the nipples."

Eric finally wanders in, giving his mother a massive bear hug, as she wistfully sniffs his hair. But Eric distinctly overhears the little squabble, and nearly squeaks. Like the kitchen door, which doesn't swing like it used to. Breaking away from the comfort of his mother's loving arms, in near horror.

"I'm sure he didn't say that to you."

"No, but I hear everything," Leah loudly declares, as Red finally enters the living room, beer firmly in hand, "He was watching reruns of Baywatch..."

The nice girl finishes last, entering the formidable abode in a ditsy floral dress and chunky sandals, but even Kate Forman can't help but scoff. She's well aware of her Uncle Kelso's superficial fixation on Pamela Anderson, as he merely admires boobs from afar. And only fondles Aunt Brooke's breasts up close, like he's squeezing a lemon.

Shaking the disturbing thought out of her head, Kate eyes her own nearly nonexistent breasts with particular ire, while stating the obvious. "Pamela Anderson's boobs are fake."

Leah can't help but snicker, at her older sister's expense. "Plastic isn't fantastic, but it's better than stuffing."

Kate turns as red as her hair, and Donna quickly comes to her eldest daughter's defense. All while scolding the youngest, a strawberry-haired porky mouth with Oshkosh B'Gosh overalls and a devious grin.  

"Leah!"

The devious grin is unfortunately reminiscent of her Aunt Laurie's, when she was that age. Well, at least Leah won't turn out like her aunt, Kitty tries to convince herself. She has a fiery soul, a big heart, a bright mind, and...a lot of other things.

"Well, your aunt used to stuff." The sympathy for her own daughter is notably absent, as she hollowly laughs. Trying to ease the tension lingering in the room, with a genuine chuckle. And an awkward blurt. "And so did your father."

Such a lewd insinuation flies right over Leah's head, but Kate gets the gist. As she scrunches her nose in disgust. "Eww."

Red finally speaks up, in their son's defense. "Kitty, Eric might be a dumbass, but his kids don't need to hear about that."

"Thank you, Daddy." He snarkily puts his hand on his heart, as Leah giggles. "Hug?"

Red gruffly grumbles, like an aging lion. "No."

The younger lion, tiger, or bear...nay, the nearly middle-aged duck, reluctantly acquiesces. "...Fine."

An emancipation proclamation, defying the colors of the wind, Leah readily ignores her father and grandfather's awkward lay of the land. With a grin firmly planted on her face. "You'll hug me, though, right Pop?" 

Without hesitation, or even an answer, she gives Red a formidable bear hug. And he can't help but smile, even as old memories sting clear. "Yeah, kiddo."

*****

2:00 pm

Her two grandbabies are watching The Lion King silently. One is simply passing the time, mindlessly braiding her scarlet hair while glaring at her lousily planted buds, and the other is thoroughly entranced. All while happily jumping the gun.

"I can't wait for the next one to come out," Leah loudly declares, her buds somehow already firmly planted, "I'm so Kiara."

Kate finally perks up, unlike her wallflowers. "No, I'm Kiara."

Leah loudly guffaws, more than ready to compete over who has earned the privilege to be Simba and Nala's only daughter. "I'm Kiara! You don't even like the Lion King! You're not even watching it. You're watching your stupid buds..."

Kitty subtly nods, in tepid agreement. "A watched pot never boils, Kate."

But her notable namesake can't help but angrily fire back, with the fire of her mother. And without the typical grace of her loving grandmother. "But it's so unfair! She already needs training bras..."

Countering such a seemingly bologna statement, Leah is quick to detract. "No, I don't!"

"It sucks! I'm starting seventh grade this year, and my buds aren't blooming," Kate proclaims, accompanied by a melodramatic sigh, arms now firmly crossed, "I swear, Leah, a third grader, already has bigger boobs than me."

"Don't you mean Kiara, not Leah?" Eric and Donna, over on the old piano bench, can't help but chuckle. At their daughter's stubborn antics. "'Cause Mom and Dad are Simba and Nala, and I'm..."

Eric futilely tries to smooth everything out, like butter, all while being momentarily flattered. "I'm flattered that you consider us to be..."

Instead, it comes off as outdated margarine, as Red chuckles. Firmly rooted in his chestnut-colored armchair, as he watches over his pride of lions. His tentative pride and joy, even when the rest of the world thoroughly disappoints him.  "Your wife's Nala. You're skinnier than Timon."

Kitty heartily laughs, thinking of the comic book guy her son luckily never became. "Well, at least he's not Pumbaa."

The whole room bursts into laughter, but Kate quickly cuts them all off. "Leah's lucky. When she grows up, she's gonna be strong like Nala. Like Mom..."

Pointing to her nearly nonexistent boobs, Leah smiles. "And soft and squishy, like Pumbaa?"

Donna groans, her soft and squishy assets firmly on display in a navy t-shirt, as Eric chuckles. But he's nowhere near as foolish as Michael Kelso, and he's not about to squeeze those lemons. 

Instead, he wistfully smiles at his pride, his eldest apple. His little princess, his little Topanga. And then, he beams at his joy, his youngest apple. The youngest apple, a little rascal, hasn't fallen far from either of the trees, or so it seems. With her mother's strength, and her father's alienating wit.

Which, quite predictably, Kate doesn't take kindly to. "I'm just gonna be like a wiry little Timon, like Dad. With no boobs!"

With such alienating, flippant dramatics, Red can't help but cackle like a hyena, at his son's expense. "You never really filled out, son."

"Hey, at least I'm not Pumbaa, okay?" He loudly repeats the tried and true, as Kitty amply nods, "I could've ended up like the comic book guy, but no. I mean, I'm super excited about the next Star Wars and all it could entail, but..."

"You still watch Spiderman with me, Daddy," Leah lovingly notes, firmly cutting his potentially long-winded geekiness off, "I wish there would be real blood and guts, but no. He can't really kick real butt."

"It's a kid's show. It's for babies," Kate notably counters, "He watches Boy Meets World with me."

"Mr. Feeny is who I aspire to be, okay? He's way cooler than me." For once, Red nods in agreement, as Eric awkwardly continues. "Like, I try to give great advice, but it falls on deaf ears sometimes."

Red guffaws dismissively. He knows his son's track record, and it's not that good. "It doesn't help that you teach in the ghetto."

"Hey, I'm willing to give everyone a chance, okay?" Eric loudly counters, as Leah snatches the remote off the coffee table, and she feebly attempts to drown out an emerging squabble, "Because so many people aren't given any. I still see no changes, all I see are racist faces..."

At full volume, the Lion King is now on blast, as Donna gingerly pats Eric's knee. "You can stop quoting 2Pac now, Eric..."

He dramatically sighs, at all of yesterday's failures and today's wasted opportunities, as Donna lovingly settles into the crook of his bony shoulder. "May he rest in peace."

*****

3:00 pm

The closing credits finally begin to play, as they still wait. For the rest of the bumbling bunch to arrive.

"Mom and Dad are always unfashionably early," Jackie bellows on speakerphone, for the whole world to hear, "We actually get there at a normal time."

Hyde notably chuckles. "Fashionably late?"

Notable rustling is heard in the background, leaving little to the imagination. "We're making dessert, puddin'..."

"When everyone else finally gets here, we're gonna grill weenies, watch the fireworks..." Kitty trails off, thinking of the little family she's lovingly cultivated. From the ground up. "I even rented The Little Mermaid, since that's Becca's favorite."

Eric has long since migrated to Leah's side, and gingerly pats her shoulder. And sighs, as time inevitably passes him by. 

And at the tender age of thirty-eight, Kitty can smell it, from a mile away. A midlife crisis is inevitably on the horizon. Something involving a sea of motor boats, or maybe even a robin egg blue colored Corvette. 

But for now, a thirty-something Eric wistfully sighs. "Our littlest mermaid has already gotten her period."

Or, in Leah's case, a lot more than the birds and the bees arrived at the tender age of eight and a half. It even took Donna off guard, and she had everything in regards to puberty down. Pads and tampons were waiting in the cabinet, and eventually? Condoms, jellies, sponges, and the ugliest underwear she could find were in the girls' eventual future. 

But all that stuff was reserved for Kate. Hell, it basically had her name on it. But Kate is apparently a late bloomer, like her father. And Leah is an early bloomer, even earlier than her mother can possibly tout.

Leah abruptly jerks away, straying from her father's side, all while making loud gagging noises. And Donna sighs, retelling a familial tale.

"I got my period when I was ten, but my grandmother got her period when she was eight and a half..."

The gagging noises finally cease, while Leah settles onto the piano bench with her mother, as the eight-year-old obnoxiously muses. "The smart one, or the dumb one?"

"The smart one." Donna glares at Eric, well aware of its smack-talking source. "You can stop talking about my family behind my back."

Leah smirks, revealing more crucial intel, courtesy of the horse's mouth. "The linebacker or the praying mantis?"

The horse, however, isn't quick to naysay. "Dig my grave a little more, why don't y..."

"Kate's got her smarts, and I've got the bleeding," Leah loudly cuts them off, ending the mess she inevitably made, "Like, Kate's Lisa and basically just made it into MENSA, and I'm a loser like Bart!"

Donna smooths out her shorts, as Kate attempts to bite her tongue. "You are not..."

But Kate is about to eat her words, but right now? She doesn't care. Yeah, she may be the smartest Forman in generations, but she looks like a praying mantis. With no boobs, no period, no nothing...

"It's so unfair, you're just a baby, and you already got visited by the puberty fairy."

Leah is far from amused, as she loudly pouts. With a dismissive grumble. "I'm not a baby!"

"Uh huh!"

"Uh uh."

"Uh huh!"

"Okay, both of you, shut it!" Red bellows, like thunder in a summer storm, "Can't we spend Fourth of July in peace, goddamn it?"

Yet, the sun is still shining, as a lightning mirage of fire and fury still spews from Red's aging lips. And Sarabi is quick to calm the storm.

"Mufasa has spoken, you two..."

Leah loudly guffaws, as the rest remain eerily silent. "Isn't Mufasa supposed to be dead?"

"Mufasa is right here. He isn't dead, yet." Kitty amply capitalizes on such a great opportunity. Because in his heart of hearts, Eric isn't Timon. But Simba, finding his way and his voice amongst the madness. That life always brings, as a true king's power is his compassion. "And Simba is here too, so why don't Mufasa and Simba have a nice family hug?"

Simba seems eager, but Mufasa is hesitant. Until Sarabi gives him a terrible glance, and Mufasa reluctantly buckles.

The old lion stands, and so does his son. "Fine." 

And if for only a moment, Red and Eric find home in each other's arms.

Chapter Text

“Ooh, loneliness and cheeseburgers are a dangerous mix!” -Comic Book Guy's hospital catchphrase, The Simpsons

Chapter 2: When I Come Around

Saturday, July 4, 1998
Point Place, Wisconsin
4:10 pm 

The Forman kitchen is now filled to the brim with life, as the rest of the bumbling bunch has finally arrived.

And now, the first batch of the bumbling bunch is proudly puffing their chests, talking about the same old same old. Repeating the damn roster. The same old thing they heard about this morning, or even last week.

Mom and Dad are the undisputed heads of the table, of a sober circle without even the semblance of smoke. As they conjure some sort of convoluted, repetitive square dance. 

"Look, we're gonna take the kids on the rides of their lives," The head of the squares loudly declares, loudly clearing his throat, "At Six Flags."

It hits different, it feels different. Being upstairs people, instead of downstairs people. Being the adults in the room, the muddled voices in a Charlie Brown special, instead of being the meddling kids.

Hyde, the cool dad, chuckles. At his adopted brother's expense. Mom and Dad always try to pull out all the stops, but they're still Mom and Dad. "There's nothin' like curated fun from the man to get the kids excited."

Jackie, the cool mom, generously pouts. Pulling her husband close, as Dumb and Dumber throw kernels of popcorn at them and loudly heckle. 

"I thought you liked when you tied my shirt in a sexy knot."

A lucky man, many years of love, marriage, and baby carriages render him into a state of outright marital bliss. Sealed with a kiss. "Ain't America great?"

*****
4:13 pm

The eldest spawn of the squares, while humming a Sixpence None The Richer song, sips some lemonade out of a crazy straw on the back porch. With her best friend, her second sister, firmly by her side.

"Trust me, I'm bad."

Becca Hyde can't help but smirk, sipping her cherry cola with her crazy straw, which loudly changes colors. From blue, to purple, to pink. To gray nothingness, as she speaks the truth. To the powers that be.

In this case, she happens to speak the truth to the undeniable ring leader. "You can't even put your drink on the table without a freakin' coaster."

"But...but it'll leave a ring." Kate sighs, tossing the coaster aside. Into the bushes, as she cements her warped goody-two-shoes sense of badassery by grinding the glass on the dainty little side table. From side to side, as she attempts to boldly bluff. "When we go to Six Flags, we're going to ride the biggest coaster ever."

Becca chuckles, wholly unconvinced. "Yeah, when pigs fly."

All the while, Kate smells the hot dogs and burgers, simmering on the grill. The homemade onion rings baking in the oven. Some macaroni salad her mother made, as some sort of awkward olive branch. Because her mother may be many, many great things, but she can never hold a candle to Ani's cooking prowess.

And most importantly, she hears more heckling from the kitchen, likely targeted squarely at her parents. Bullseye. "Uncle Kelso made a pig fly, once."

"Jackie and Hyde, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

In turn, Aunt Jackie loudly reveals a well-known relic, established Point Place lore, firmly cemented in the history books. Awkwardly unleashed, like a tale in a bygone scroll, for the sole purpose of burning. "I'm just glad I never went the marriage and baby carriages route with you!"

Uncle Fez loudly objects, but for an entirely different reason. "But it's a rule! No kissing in the circle!"

Aunt Jackie laughs, ever so dismissively. "This isn't a real circle, Fez."

Never mind. "That was just his fat ass on a trampoline."

Kate giggles, clinking their glasses in solidarity. "Touche..."

*****
4:15 pm

Fez's naive eyes grow as wide as saucers, with a seemingly novel idea. "Maybe we should have a real circle."

Hyde nods in agreement, flicking a stray kernel of popcorn at Dumber. "Dumb is right."

Kelso is notably offended at such a contentious moniker, as he opens his mouth. With a huff and a puff, as he flicks a few stray kernels of popcorn at Hyde. "I'm Dumb!"

Hyde simply chuckles, and the rest swiftly follow suit. "You're so Dumber it's not even debatable."

Kelso attempts to conjure up some sort of argument, but his resistance has already been proven to be largely futile. "But Dumb loves dogs."

"You're just a dirty, dirty dog. And you're fat." A loud "uh" is stuttered in sheer defiance, as Jackie holds his feet to the theoretical fire. "You being fat is just a burn that keeps on burning...but I do feel kind of bad for you. As your friend, and for Brooke's sake."

Hyde chuckles, pulling his wife close. Dipping Dumber's feet into the flames. "He's aged like John Travolta."

"Or Elvis Presley," Jackie adds, with a confident nod, before lovingly gazing into her husband's icy blue eyes, "You've aged like Sylvester Stallone."

The ice melting in the summer heat, he can't help but smirk. "At least Kelso's not gonna die on the crapper like Elvis."

A mix of petulant snark and naivety immediately emerges. "Thanks, Hyde." 

He's setting a low bar, that his fat ass can't even jump over. "You're welcome."

*****
5:30 pm

The bumbling bunch and their children, ranging from the tender age of eight to the notorious, infamous nineteen-year-old outlier, are enjoying a nice Fourth of July barbeque. 

They're all basking in the evening sun, crowded around two outdoor round tables. Accompanied with a bunch of lawn chairs. A kids' table, and an adults' table. And quite predictably, Betsy Kelso has proudly pushed her way away from the childish madness and wiggled her way into the sea of adults. Awkwardly, and loudly. In a way only Betsy Kelso can.

Loudly plopping her lawn chair next to her mother, she grimaces. "Look, I'm not sitting with these babies. I'm in college now, Pop. Ani."

Amidst the controlled chaos, there are hot dogs, hamburgers. Onion rings, macaroni salad. The whole nine yards, as the whole bunch mindlessly chitter-chatter amongst themselves. To the tune of a crank radio, awkwardly blasting Alanis Morisette. A contemporary classic...

You live, you learn
You love, you learn...

"Mom, I've heard all the stories around here." Her hand empathetically on her heart, Kate Forman awkwardly shoots the breeze. "I'd never date a Kelso."

Donna arches her brows in outright suspicion, nervously twirling an onion ring in some ketchup, hoping she doesn't know all the Point Place intel. Does that mean she knows about Casey? "That's good."

Luckily, Becca is quick to take off the edge. The jagged little pill, swimming in Donna's uneasy stomach. "But you dated your third cousin."

"By mistake, and he was only my camp boyfriend." Kate is momentarily distracted, by the long, winding tales amply provided by the kids' past at Camp Morgan. "Big diff."

"That's the burn that keeps on burning," Kelso obnoxiously blurts, "That Randy married your second cousin, Big D."

Kate is notably and purposely oblivious, as the world rightfully intended. "Why is that a burn that keeps on burning?"

Some things in Point Place's troubled and time-defying history books aren't meant to be revealed to the kids, ever. Although some relics like Jackie and Kelso are firmly in the public archives, others are hidden in the depths of the Vatican. Never to be unleashed. Ever.

Kelso opens his mouth to respond, to blurt out anything and everything, and Hyde frogs him. Jackie kicks him, and Fez twists his ear. As Kelso cries in pain, being hit continually by the collective forces of reality.

Red is quick to put a stop to it all, with a loud, aging roar. "Hey! This is supposed to be a quiet, peaceful dinner.

Eric and Leah chuckle at the inherent hypocrisy, but only Leah is willing to snarkily take the bait. "You already said that you should put your foot in O'Connor's ass."

Red cocks his head towards the neighboring yard, Donna's old abode, aggressively clearing his throat. "If those hippies next door are dreaming about California, they should go move there!"

The emerging jam session is now firmly drowning out Alanis Morissette, finishing an iconic flute solo, as an outdated relic overtakes a contemporary classic. 

All the leaves are brown (all the leaves are brown)
And the sky is gray (and the sky is gray)
I've been for a walk (I've been for a walk)
On a winter's day (on a winter's day)
If I didn't tell her (if I didn't tell her)
I could leave today (I could leave today)...

They continue to jam, unabated, as Red groans. And the rest mindlessly munch, enjoying the show. Until the show comes to an unceremonious close, and a shaggy-haired man puts down his guitar. With his wife and daughter reluctantly following suit, heading into the driveway.

Elliot O'Connor, some young, progressive form of Bob Pinciotti, is quick to take some sort of stand. "I thought we were friends!"

His no-nonsense wife, Edie, groans. Unlike Midge, she's as sharp as a bayonet, as versatile as a pocket knife. So Red likes her, most of the time.

Except now, of course, as with Red's unwavering scowl, Edie relays the likely lay of the land. "Were. Past tense."

Elliot and Edie have more finesse, and more wit than their predecessors. They have college degrees, as local music teachers, and can play a variety of instruments. From an acoustic guitar to the obnoxious sound of a Scottish bagpipe. Or in this case, a few acoustic guitars and an alto flute.

Their daughter, Chelsea, happily holds up her flute. Turning to one of the two boys, with a confident grin. "We're still friends, right?"

Adrian Forman may be a chip off the unwavering old block rather than a campy reincarnation of his father, but he can't help but smile at the strawberry blonde. With a little daisy tucked behind her ear, as bright as a summer's day.

Emerging from his lawn chair, with a stutter and a stumble characteristic of his uncle rather than his Pop, he enthusiastically nods.

Taking her hand, and his own little stand. "Yep."

Chapter Text

"Thank you. But our Princess is in another castle!... Just kidding! Ha ha ha! Bye-bye." -Princess Peach, Super Mario All-Stars, 1993

Chapter 3: There She Goes

Saturday, July 4, 1998
Point Place, Wisconsin
8:30 pm

It's a beautiful night. Well, as beautiful a night as Point Place can possibly offer, with only the campgrounds and Lake Eerie at its edges as some sort of scenic consolation prize.

But the fireworks are coming from its rusting core, a stone's throw from the typically hollowed-out Main Street, as everyone is hastily huddled in the town center. 

One of Kelso's brothers, one of his uncles, and one of his cousins are busy concocting a technicolor dream show, for the little world of Point Place to see. Beyond the shades of red, white, and blue. With a wide array of pinks, pale yellows, and purples, painting the night sky.

"Charlie, Eddie, and Sully are finally good for something." Gazing at the night sky, filled with stars and stripes forever, Red can't help but chuckle. As the whole town collectively stares at him, and he clinks his bottle of beer with Adrian's can of root beer in solidarity. They both share frighteningly familiar smirks, quirks, and everything else in between. "When they aren't blowing themselves up."

Adrian, in turn, is more willing to go out on even more of a limb. He may be slender, but he is nimble, and he can fight off all the angry pitchforks. "I still think one of the Chicago Kelsos is dumber."

Kelso loudly squeals, like a pig headed for the slaughter. "Hey!" 

Fez shakes his head at his wayward son, defending his best friend instead. "It's not his fault the other Chicago Kelso is smart."

"Uncle Jay is the only Kelso that's smart," Betsy pipes up, before motioning to herself and her sister, "Well, and me and Hannah, but that's not because of my dad..."

The small crowd chuckles at Kelso's expense, and he turns beet red. "Hey, you can stop with the baby burns, Bets."

Betsy smirks, with her mother's smarts but her father's bravado. "I prefer to call it 'grown up daughter' burn."

Bravado responds with bravado, and Kelso stubbornly shakes his head. "That doesn't have the same ring to it, just like Beth doesn't have the same ring as Betsy."

"Hey, that's my professional grown-up name!"

Jackie, her perfectly manicured hand intertwined with Hyde's, is a proud, protective godmother. Who will be Betsy's cheerleader and most ardent defender, if need be.

"I like Beth. It's not her fault you gave her a fat girl's name, Michael."

"To be fair, her full name is Elizabeth Victoria," Brooke succinctly notes, as Jackie graciously nods, "After my grandmother Elizabeth, and his grandmother..."

"Maria Victoria Adelaide," Kelso nobly proclaims, as if his grandmother was the queen of England, "Yeah, my German side gave everybody two middle names. It's regal and fancy."

Brooke simply nods, barely giving her empty-headed husband more than a passing glance, as she mindlessly flips through the latest issue of Time. Skimming through some article about how feminism might be dead. As dead as this little downtown party, maybe?

Yet, the fireworks continue to brighten the starry, starry night, as Brooke brutally quips. "Your English side gave everybody a chance, including their cousins."

Kelso is close to making his signature squeal, but he holds back. "That's way back. You just had to dig, didn't ya?"

Brooke barely puts down her magazine, with a firm but loving chuckle. Ruffling his hair, close to giving him a big 'ol smooch. As the kids, including Betsy, loudly make gagging noises. 

"Eww." The youngest of the bunch, Leah, loudly groans. Staring lifelessly at her Gameboy, without a backlight to keep her occupied, before turning to her mother. "Can we go home yet? It's dark, and I can't see my Gameboy."

Before Donna can mutter a word, her bestest friend speaks up, in utter defiance. Yanking the Gameboy out of her hand, with a dramatic squint. "You can see it, kind of..."

Leah snatches it back, pulling it away from the streetlight. "I can't see Mario."

He smirks, with a grin and a chuckle he and his father undeniably share. "I can see Princess Peach."

She's notably offended, as her mother's daughter. "Uh uh."

"Uh huh..."

"Uh uh!"

Brooke ignores the little squabble, as the bashful boy tries to loudly, proudly, but futilely save the princess, finally answering her husband's question. Rolling her eyes, unabated by Betsy's squeals and squawks. As she plants a kiss on her prince. 

Her dumb, foolish, but loving prince. "I'm a librarian, so yes."

Kelso laughs, handing over an olive branch for the sake of an old flame, for her to platonically burn him. As he laser focuses on Brooke, with a dirty grin lingering on his lips. "You just love digging through dirty old books, don't you?"

Jackie takes the olive branch, and loudly whips him with it. "She loves digging through a dirty old dog, so yes."

Brooke smiles, her hand petting his waiting cheek, as Kelso pants. "I love you, you dirty old dog."

"Hey, I'm a dirty old dog that only has eyes for you." He happily eyes her breasts, and gives one a little squeeze. As she happily reaches down toward his natural bulge, and everyone nearly gags. 

James Hyde, Jackie and Hyde's son and Leah's bestest friend, is the first to react. Loudly, and proudly. "Get a room."

But they're in a paved paradise, in one of many parking lots. "There isn't one."

James, with his mother's willfulness and his father's pointed stare, loudly scoffs. "Then find one."

"We should have sex on top of the water tower!" Kelso's childish outburst turns many heads, as he awkwardly clears his throat. Taking Brooke's hand, with an impromptu edit. "I mean, in our minivan, like normal people."

*****

8:40 pm

Kelso and Brooke are seemingly having the time of their lives in their minivan, as the O'Connors awkwardly fill up Kelso and Brooke's place. With Elliot perched proudly on Kelso's lawn chair, as he happily blasts "Big Yellow Taxi" by Joni Mitchell on his little crank radio, and Chelsea buries her face in her hands. In abject humiliation.

"As you know, we named our daughter after that Joni Mitchell song. Chelsea Morning." Elliot recites the tried and true, as the rest of the world collectively groans. "Like Bill and Hillary, but we're way cooler than those centrist squares. They're just some Judy Collins knockoffs."

"Luckily, my middle name isn't morning," Chelsea tiredly recites, rolling her eyes, "It's Mary."

Elliot gingerly pats Red on the shoulder, as he notably recoils. "We both hate the Clintons. Maybe we can reach across the aisle and get rid of those disagreements that divide us."

Red angrily taps his foot, reciting his tried and true. "Maybe my foot can reach across the aisle..."

"And go into my ass?" Elliot completes his neighbor's predictable thought, with a dramatic sigh. "You have to give peace a chance, Red. Like The Beatles said, all you need is love."

Eric nods in agreement, as does Kitty, defying the odds. "The man has a point..."

Red groans. His son has turned out more like his mother, which is all fine if he was a woman, but he's supposed to be a man. 

A Forman, not some bargain bin Sigurdson. "Shut it, Paul."

Eric opens his mouth to respond, but Elliot beats him to the punch. "The Clintons don't have any love, and look where it got them."

"He hasn't had sex with his wife, in a very, very long time." He sighs in relief, falling back into his comfort zone, with some good 'ol Clinton jokes. While making sure his kids are out of earshot, with a tilt of the head. "So he had Monica play his saxophone."

Red grunts, with a formidable glare. "Enough with the saxophone jokes."

"But as it plays out, it seems that he indeed had sexual relations with that woman..." Eric trails off, as Red's glare hardens. The last thing he apparently wants to hear is his son spout some dirty Dad jokes, a concept which certainly doesn't mix well together... "You know what, never mind."

*****

8:50 pm

The fireworks have ceased, after a formidable finale, and everyone is packing up and meandering home. To little bonfires and ice cream socials, or to maybe watch for the lady of the lake.

With Dairy Queen excitedly on her young mind, as they all wander to their cars, Leah waves her Gameboy in James's face. "I can be Princess Peach, because a peach looks like a butt. Like this."

She pulls up the right leg of her shortalls, showing her underwear with a less than innocent giggle, as James is momentarily entranced. 

The family-friendly facade of Fourth of July has long since been tossed firmly aside, but the adults are still less than amused. The upstairs people shake their heads, accompanied by a loud and proud scoff courtesy of Jackie Hyde. 

And all the while, predictably, Donna is the first to admonish her youngest daughter. Swiftly, and firmly. "Leah!" 

Beaming with pride, Leah feigns obliviousness. "But a peach does look like a butt..."

Donna's hands settle on her hips, as a firm disciplinarian. "That's not what I meant..."

"Stop showing your butt in public." The firmest disciplinarian is quick to intervene, as Leah opens her mouth to protest. "Or in private."

She dramatically pouts, attempting to speak some sort of warped truth. Batting her lashes at James, as Red refuses to budge. "But Pop, I'm basically showing my butt in my bathing suit tomorrow. It's basically underwear."

Red grunts, arms firmly crossed. "You two are cousins."

James is the next to loudly protest, starting some sort of futile riot. "No, we're not..."

"I don't want any flipper great-grandchildren."

Leah rolls her eyes at such a seemingly ludicrous concept, stating the obvious."My dad and his dad aren't really brothers."

But Red remains firm, roaring like an old lion. "We still adopted his dad, so you're adopted cousins."

"Uh uh." Leah barely flinches, wrapping her arm around James, with a kung fu grip. "That's all gibberish to me."

And as Leah and James beeline to the same car, tossing their critics aside, Kitty awkwardly releases her signature laugh. "Well, I guess it's better than her dating one of the Bradley boys."

Chapter Text

"I feel summer creepin' in and I'm tired of this town again..." -Tom Petty, 1993

Chapter 4: How Bizarre

Saturday, July 4, 1998
Point Place, Wisconsin
9:00 pm

Curiosity is supposed to kill the cat, as Leah passes a disheveled Kelso and Brooke and an equally disheveled turquoise minivan, her blue-green eyes briefly peeking inside. The back seats have been haphazardly put back up and a bag of dog food has been tipped over, as Betsy and Hannah awkwardly shuffle in.

"Okay, I'll pay for a car wash, inside and out, with my waitressing money," Betsy loudly declares, as Hannah rolls her eyes, "Because..."

As Leah and James trek onward, and Betsy's ear-piercing voice somewhat fades, Leah's eyes uncomfortably settle on a silver Ford Taurus. 

Flinging open the door, she lets out the obvious. What the cat dragged in, as usual. "Uncle Kelso and Aunt Brooke's car is tainted."

"I hate to break it to you, but..." James tries to continue, but Eric loudly honks the horn. "Never mind."

Now firmly in the passenger seat, Donna chuckles, eying her bug-eyed husband before settling on the two little rascals in the back seats. "Jimmy Dean's about to go where the sun don't shine."

"'Cause I'm talkin' about the stuff where the sun don't shine?"

"I know what that is!" Leah exclaims, "It's s-e-x, or shoop."

James rolls his eyes, as if he's heard it before, but Eric squawks. Like an overprotective hawk. "Shoop?"

"Shoop, shoop ba-doop," Leah readily recites, as if to incite a fatherly riot, "Yeah, like that Salt N Pepa song."

Eric awkwardly clears his throat, with purposeful nerve. "Your weakness better not be men, when the time comes. When you're thirty."

"Mom says it shouldn't be, but I don't know..." Leah trails off, winking at James, as a horrified Eric starts the car and turns on the radio. To drown out his terrifying thoughts, as his youngest is momentarily distracted. "I like this song."

Ooh, baby (ooh, baby)
It's making me crazy (It's making me crazy)
Everytime I look around (look around)
Everytime I look around (everytime I look around)
Everytime I look around
It's in my face

Donna sighs, her hand patiently resting on the radio dial. "This song is terrible."

Leah recognizes her mother's notable ire, with a swift shake of the head. "So is Jewel, but I never complain."

Happily partaking in her daughter's foolish games, Donna can't help but lovingly smile. "All you do is complain."

"Uh uh," Leah loudly proclaims, nudging her bestest friend, as he rolls his eyes, "That was James. He said no one could save a soul, because there are no such things as souls."

James nods, confident of his claim. "It's true."

Donna dutifully disagrees. "That's up for interpretation."

He smirks, wholly unconvinced, and filled to the brim with snark. "My mom's proud of me."

Donna, my precious baby boy is just like his father, except at least Steven says he doesn't know if there's a God...

She can basically hear Jackie's voice ringing in her ear, stinging clear. "She sure is."

*****
9:10 pm

The Dairy Queen parking lot is packed, as the whole crew bursts onto the scene. Ten adults, one young adult, eight children, and two man-children.

One has "We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister blasting through the speakers of his minivan, as Kelso drowns out the world, waiting impatiently for his ice cream. And as another man child has taken Brooke's place in the passenger seat. Nodding along politely.

Although Twisted Sister isn't his thing, Fez can't help but smile. "Like the Spice Girls say, friendship never ends."

"Isn't that from My Little Pony?"

"That's friendship is magic, you stupid son of a bitch," Fez brutally proclaims, with a dramatic sigh, "You watched My Little Pony with Hannah all the time. How do you know everything about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Mario, and Donkey Kong..."

Kelso is quick to cut him off, stating the obvious. "It's My Little Pony, man. It's for little girls."

"And it's for Fez."

Kelso looks at him as if he has three heads, gingerly patting him on the shoulders. "I think you should just stick with Footloose and Dirty Dancing, buddy."

*****
9:20 pm

"Look, my taste buds have evolved beyond bubblegum ice cream, or frosty double-bubble blastoff." Eric generously stirs his cotton candy Blizzard, with heroic intent. "Like Peter Parker evolved into Spiderman."

Donna is less than enthused, as she enjoys some butter pecan. "Uh huh."

"To be fair, Peter Parker is still there. He just saves the day, and dances with Mary Jane." She rolls her eyes, with a generous nudge, as Eric awkwardly clears his throat. "And gets his toes stepped on."

Twirling the spoon in her cotton candy Blizzard, Leah yanks on Eric's shirt, with a generous smirk. "When we go to the ice cream truck together, Spiderman has bubblegum for eyes."

Eric motions to the two man-children in a minivan. With the windows rolled down and ice cream loosely in hand, blasting the Spice Girls. With Fez singing loudly and proudly. "Okay, when I go to the ice cream truck, I'm not as big of a man-child as those two over there." 

If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
Make it last forever, friendship never ends
If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give
Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is

Hyde chuckles, wrapping his arm around Jackie's shoulder, as Jackie obnoxiously nods. "That's a low bar, Forman."

Fez's daughter, Ashley, hums along to the music. Staring at her pink sparkly jelly sandals, before glumly relaying her father's shortcomings. "He took all my Lisa Frank pencils." 

"I'll buy you some pencils, some stickers, and that leopard backpack," Jackie declares, as Ashley skips away, and Jackie lowers her voice, "Even if they're ugly."

Leah's ears perk up, hearing the strangely quiet quip, as her eyes nervously settle on two blonde girls with strawberry Blizzards. "Like Whitney and Tori?"

"Well, Tori's grandparents are less than peachy." Kitty proudly relays all the town gossip, sipping a root beer float, with a sassy smile dancing on her lips.  "Stuart McDaniel still doesn't know what he's missing, after he married the evil Miller twin. And their youngest son ended up in prison for selling pills on the..."

"They almost pushed me out of my bunk bed at camp last year," Leah bitterly proclaims, an ice cream-laden spoon twirling in her waiting mouth, "So I pushed Tori around in a huge mud puddle."

All the while, a vaguely familiar face overhears everything, and luckily? It's not Whitney or Tori, or Tori's grandparents. As Gwen Runck butts her way into the conversation, with an uneasy smirk. "And you threatened to strangle her with the tug-of-war rope."

Leah smiles at her former camp ally, a promising camp counselor, with a quick little quip. A loud, contentious bellow. Relaying the lay of the land, which everyone and their mother has heard before. "Only after she said she'd throw my stuff in the mud puddle and put my Chia pet in the freezer, and called me a lying little bitch when I told Gwen and Nikki about everything!"

As a few heads turn, Donna is quick to admonish."Leah!"

"Daddy says that George Carlin says words that are way worse, like..."

Nikki is quick to cut Leah off, with a simple roll of the eyes. And Donna glares at her sheepish, dirty word-wielding husband. "Look, we were both on your side for the hearing, but ever since the McDaniels bought Camp Morgan, you know which way it was going to go."

Kitty uncomfortably laughs, observing the lay of the land. A Dairy Queen parking lot in the midst of white-bread suburbia, where she knows anything and everything. "It should be called Camp McDaniel."

Nikki nudges the two Hyde kids, who are busy eating ice cream and mindlessly kicking rocks. "And both of you made things worse."

James gulps, but retains a sense of Burkhart-ish bravado. "Dad said I should never hit a girl, so I had Becca do it for me."

Nikki sighs, stating the obviously predictable result. Which still stands, to this very day. "You three were banned from Camp Morgan, for a year."

James chuckles, a smirk firmly planted on his face."My parents were proud of me."

Jackie and Hyde send two uneasy smiles in his general direction, lingering with a slight tinge of pride, as Gwen laughs. "They sure are."

*****
9:30 pm

The haphazard ice cream social is over, and the adults, the young adults, the kids, and the two man-children are meandering to their cars.

Well, except for two adults. One is more than willing, but one is notoriously hesitant.

"Goddamn it all to hell, Kitty. Why do you have to talk to the McDaniels?"

"Curiosity doesn't always kill the cat, Red." Red groans, wholly unconvinced, as they approach the lion's head. And Kitty snarkily opens her mouth. "How's your son doing in prison?"

Joan McDaniel uncomfortably cackles, as the former cheerleaders glare at each other. Eying each other, up and down, In complete and utter ire. "Our other son is a defense attorney."

"So he's a liar, liar pants on fire for a living?" Kitty comfortably quips, as Joan nearly gasps in horror, and Tom Petty blasts, "I mean, his client was Lance Crawford, the Kenosha Slasher, and all those white collar criminals..."

Stuart attempts to level the playing field, as a former quarterback, with a currently questionable gut. "In our son's defense, that's what defense attorneys do."

Kitty's quick to boast about the notable achievements of her son, by comparison. "Well, our son makes a living helping people who need to be helped. On the South Side of Chicago. It's dangerous down there, but he survives. On a measly teacher's wage."

Joan continues to cackle, running her hand through her short, bleached blonde locks. "Doesn't your son sell dolls on eBay?"

"Action figures!"

"Kitty, they're dolls," Red grunts, as he eyes the Toyota, wanting to jump ship, "At this point, I'm glad he's not a professor of Star Wars."

Stuart uncomfortably laughs, openly curtailing that low, unrealistic bar. That his fat ass can no longer jump over. "How would that work? You can't major in Star Wars."

"It wouldn't." A familiar Tom Petty tune is barely lingering in the background, touting a last dance with Mary Jane. "But he found his way, and I'm proud of him."

But the window of the signature silver Taurus has been suspiciously rolled down, turning down Tom Petty to a dull whisper, for the entire time. As Eric sends a message of wholehearted support, accompanied with a snarky little heart, lovingly concocted with both of his hands. "Thank you, Daddy."

Red groans, as Eric simply presses a button, and begins to inevitably roll up his window. "Shut it!"

Chapter Text

"We're taking calls on the wish line. Making your wacky wishes come true..." -Skee Lo, 1995

Chapter 5: I Wish

Sunday, July 5, 1998
Gurnee, Illinois
11:00 am

Strolling up to the entrance of Six Flags: Great America without a seeming care in the world, with many American flags waving proudly in the breeze, the de facto leader is quick to let off some steam.

With a vague sense of pride, and the simple rearrangement of the English language. "Isn't America great?"

His redheaded wife chuckles, map firmly in hand. "You voted for Ross Perot, twice, because, and I quote, 'America keeps disappointing me.'"

"Look, the democrats and the republicans don't speak to me." Feigning to be holier than thou, above the petty conflict and unyielding party politics, the jaded diplomat dramatically sighs. "Next time, I think I should just vote for beer."

"Maybe you shouldn't bother voting at all, Forman." The disgruntled rabble-rouser, the rebellious bystander, starts his typical spiel. "You live in a blue state, and the oligarchs pick the puppet who's gonna represent them..."

"Shut up, you guys are ruining everything with all your politics talk." Jackie ties her shirt into a sexy little knot, as Becca and James nearly gag. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to get in Six Flags for free."

Donna rolls her eyes, as Kelso is prepared to follow Jackie like a lost puppy. With a trick of his own up his sleeve. "You're a talk show host, and you talk about politics all the time."

"Yeah, but this isn't work time. It's playtime." Jackie flips her hair, as if she's in a photoshoot. "And it's petty politics, big diff."

"Oh, like." Eric awkwardly clears his throat, barely raising the pitch of his voice. "'Of course Bill would cheat on Hillary with Monica.'"

Perfecting the valley girl stereotype to a T, Donna clicks her tongue in feigned disdain. "'I thought my best friend Donna had bad style, but at least she doesn't wear ugly pantsuits in every color of the rainbow. But then again, she looks up to Ruth Bader Ginsburg, so...'"

"Shut up." Even Hyde laughs at her slight expense, as Jackie playfully shoves him, turning back to her best friend. "And that was a compliment, Donna."

*****
11:05 am

Jackie and Kelso, two best friends tasked with a bewildering mission, beeline to a large row of ticket booths. The crowd in front of them is packed like sardines, as they both reluctantly linger at the very edge.

They reluctantly join the crowd, at the back of the massive line, until each line diverges at several little kiosks. Jackie's been haphazardly pushed next to Kelso, her firmly friendzoned ex, to the point where she can smell his CK One. 

And all the while, they've been searching through the crowd, as Kelso laser focuses on his target. 

"Okay, there's my nephew, right over there." Kelso wildly motions to a near clone of himself, albeit tanner and shorter. Almost elbowing her in the face in the process, as they purposefully pick their line. "He should get us both in for free."

"He looks just like you, Michael," Jackie astutely observes, rolling her eyes, his first name rolling off the tip of her tongue. A relic of their relationship, from all those years ago. "Are you sure you withdrew all your sperm donor donations?"

"I'm sure." Kelso is tempted to barge through the line, as antsy and impatient as a small child, as Jackie holds him back. With a slight tug and a formidable glare. "You were there!"

"I can't believe I ever wanted to have kids with you. Eww."

"I know, right?" He chuckles, a terrifying thought lingering in his mind. "Think if I never ran off to California, and you never got with Hyde."

Jackie nearly gags at the mere thought. Brooke is Mrs. Kelso, not me. "I don't want to think about it."

"Me neither." Momentarily distracted, he dutifully stands in line. Playing by the rules, as they finally near the front. "Life without Brooke, Betsy, and Hannah would..."

Kelso's clone interrupts a rare moment of introspection, as he obnoxiously summons him over, with a big smile on his face and wild hand gestures. "You never think, Uncle Mike."

"Hi..." She can't recall his name, so she squints. Trying to read his name tag. "Jay."

"It's Jake." Jake rolls his eyes, almost to the back of his head. "My dad's name is Jay. He works for the Chicago Tribune, remember?"

"He's one of the only Kelsos that escaped from the Point Place," Kelso acknowledges, with a more than ample nod, as he inevitably gestures to himself, "Well, and me, but..."

Jake abruptly cuts him off, with a frighteningly familiar chuckle. "You're still a Point Place Kelso, through and through."

Kelso squeals, like a stubborn little pig. "Uh! You take that back!"

In turn, Jackie can't help but laugh at her best friend's expense. "It's true, Michael." 

He pouts, arms crossed, like a petulant, whiny child. "But I'm not a dirty, dirty dog anymore."

She dismissively scoffs, running her hand through her raven locks. "Yeah, but you're still dumb. Jay isn't dumb..."

Jake is quick to interrupt, on behalf of himself. "And neither am I. I got straight As last semester. I'm smart, like my mom and my dad."

Kelso can't help but beam with pride, repeating the same adage. Again and again, every day, like a happy little broken record. "My girls are smart, just like their mom."

"Most of my smart cousins are on my mom's side, though." He waves to Chelsea and Adrian, who have already beat the line and made their way inside. They're in the bag check line, with an annoyed Red and an overwhelmed Kitty. "Like Chels, over there."

Chelsea snarkily waves, with a little smirk dancing on her lips. "You're an endearing little ignoramus."

But meanwhile, Red's frown is seemingly etched onto his face, forever carved in stone. "More like, an annoying little dumbass."

"See? She's got a vast vocabulary." It seems that Jake has ignored Red's typical spiel, until he opens his mouth and continues, laser-focusing on Red's irritable antics. "Ignoramus sounds so much cooler than 'dumbass,' doesn't it? It sounds like a dinosaur or something."

At the mere mention of dinosaurs, Kelso is nearly euphoric. "Jurassic Park is the best movie ever!"

Jake nods in agreement, but with less childish excitement. "I know, right? The best part is when..."

"Can you both stop talking about dinosaurs?" Jackie awkwardly adjusts her top, tying the knot even tighter. Getting down to business, with a sugar-sweet smile on her face. "I heard your mom loves my show."

Awkwardly linking the two bits together, Jake is notably offended. "Are you calling my mom a dinosaur?"

"She's a cougar, not a dinosaur." Jake still seems offended, and not thoroughly convinced, as Jackie continues. With a seemingly promising pitch. "I can get her an autograph, and front-row seats to my Christmas charity drive, if, well..." 

"I gave Chels a deep, deep discount. With all these stupid coupons." Jake quickly grasps where she's going, and stubbornly holds up a sea of flyers to illustrate his point. "That's how it works around here."

Jackie pouts, like a spoiled, petulant child. "How about giving us an even deeper discount, like I don't know, letting us in for free?"

"That'll be 20.23, for the both of you." Jake morosely chuckles, shattering any illusions. "Nice try, dinosaur." 
*****
11:10 am

Meanwhile, the rest of the gang has just passed through the other side of the ticket booths, as Donna subtly tucks two frozen water bottles in a secret inner compartment of her cooler bag.

Hyde can't help but laugh at the sight, at the squares' subtle version of rebellion. "I thought Mom and Dad liked to play by the rules."

"Look, I'm not paying three bucks for a bottle of water, okay?"

Lowering his voice, he can't help but wholeheartedly agree. "They're fuckin' scalpers, aren't they?"

"Of course they are, Dad. How else are they supposed to make money?" Like his mother, James has supersonic hearing. Unlike his mother, he's far more cynical about the system. Like father, like son. "By bleedin' you dry."

"Mommy." Leah anxiously tugs on Donna's tank top, with considerable urgency. "Can we go to the bathroom after we get in? I have to go."

"You don't go to the bathroom with Mom anymore..." Kate easily puts two and two together, and dramatically groans. "You've got to be kidding me. You're just a little kid!"

James swings his head around, and Leah angrily shoves her older sister. In complete and utter ire, while making her situation blatantly obvious. "I just wanna go swimming!"

"Leah!" When push comes to shove, Donna is always the default disciplinarian. "And Kate, you don't have to embarrass your sister."

Not used to being part of her mother's admonishment, Kate sighs. Feebly trying to explain herself, all while nervously playing with her hair. Nothing is blooming, and it's so unfair. "To be fair, she's embarrassing to begin with."

Donna nods, wholly sympathetic. "That's just how little sisters are."

But Kate can't help it, but ask for clarification. "How would you know? You're an only child..."

Jackie suddenly bursts onto the scene, with a sheepish Kelso in tow. "Donna, Jake called me a dinosaur!"

Taken aback, Donna is confused. "Who is Jake?"

"Michael's nephew!"

Like an avid reporter, and a responsible older sister, she dutifully asks for clarification. "Jay and Grace's kid?"

"Yeah, him!" Jackie is notably distraught, and runs to Hyde. Pulling him close, and resting her head into the crook of his neck. "I can't believe the knot trick doesn't work anymore."

Hyde smirks, remembering the good 'ol days, trying to soothe his frazzled wife. "That's how we used to get into Six Flags."

Becca and James make gagging noises, once again, as Kelso laughs. "You called his mom a cougar."

"That's because she is, Michael. She's eight years older than Jay! She's over the hill, and she's starting to go through the woods!" At the apex of a looming midlife crisis, Jackie dramatically sighs. Somewhat relinquishing her iron grip, before turning to the rest of the group. "And that's so not me! I'm not old!"

Becca rolls her eyes, with a solemn sigh. "She's scared of the f-word."

James smirks, turning into a speak and spell. "F-O-R..."

As Becca nudges him, and the feebly attempted comic relief fails to land, Jackie is quick to angrily quip. "I'm thirty-six, okay?" 

Kelso can't help but chuckle, from afar. As Brooke comfortably settles into his arms. "Almost thirty-seven."

Jackie scoffs, at her firmly friendzoned ex. "It's better than being thirty-eight, like the rest of you."

Kelso opens his mouth to state the obvious, that Brooke has already reached the daunting milestone, but Brooke nudges him. With a worthwhile glare.

But on the flip side of the coin, Fez can't help smile. "I'm still thirty-seven."

Jackie laughs, unfurling the only remnant of their very, very brief relationship. Unknownst to the kids, and she intends to keep it that way. "For less than a month, Fezzie. Then, you'll join the thirty-eight club with the rest of them."

Fez is horrified at the mere thought, and lets out a bewildered cry. "Ai."

Chapter Text

"Dear, I fear we're facing a problem..." -The Cardigans, 1996

Chapter 6: Never Been Kissed

Sunday, July 5, 1998
Gurnee, Illinois
11:15 am

The four strays, the first to arrive on the scene, are now impatiently waiting at Carousel Plaza.

Red refused to wait more than five minutes for the others at the gate, and as a result, they've been severed from the rest of the group. Like a light saber severed Luke Skywalker's hand, way back when.

Chelsea awkwardly clears her throat, anxiously tapping her foot. "Uncle Red, where is everybody?"

"You mean, the other dumbasses?" Red spots them, off in the distance, with Leah and James excitedly at the helm. As Red reluctantly gestures, with a half-assed point. "Over there."

Adrian turns to Chelsea, with a pointed, confused stare. "Uncle Red?"

She nods, twirling her honey-blonde locks. "My grandpa is best friends with your grandpa..."

"I just call him Arch." He wholly disapproves, for an obvious reason. "Uncle Red sounds like we're related or something."

She shrugs. "It's a small town. We share a cousin."

"But we're not cousins..." He trails off, spotting Leah and James racing through the crowd. As Leah blows James a kiss, and James lovingly rolls his eyes. "See, those two are being raised as cousins, but they're pretending that they're not."

Leah reaches them first, with the typical defense. "But we're not cousins."

Red grumbles, stating the obvious. Again, and again, but it falls on two sets of deaf ears."You're adopted cousins."

Kitty nods, recalling some troubling tales. Of Point Place's notorious rumor mill, rectifying a real-life game of telephone. "We always have to explain their....antics...to everyone at church, at the grocery store, at the mall, at the community center..."

Jackie scrunches her nose in disgust. My precious baby boy deserves way better than Eric and Donna's awkward and weird kid. "And they're not even dating."

"Nuh uh. Not yet," Leah declares, as Jackie inevitably glares, "Aunt Jackie would yell at me."

Instead, Hyde does the honors. With an awkward middle ground, established way back when. "Not until both of you start middle school."

Eric laughs, gingerly patting his adopted brother's shoulder. As Hyde lovingly groans. "More like, not until Leah's thirty."

"Then we'll be together forever, by then." Leah aggressively blows James another kiss, and this time, he catches it. "And we'll have some flipper great-grandkids, too."

To everyone, being knee deep in the 21st century seems so far away, like a sci fi fantasy. As far as the late nineties seemed in the late seventies, Kitty inevitably muses. "That's a long time from now..."

Eric nods in agreement, daydreaming of space battles on the big screen, in the not-so-distant future. "A galaxy far, far away, if you will."

"But when the 1999 song came out, it seemed so far away, but now..." Fez trails off, before suddenly bursting into song. "Say, say, 2000-00, party over. Oops, out of time. So tonight I'm gonna party like it's 1999..."

The whole group collectively groans, as Leah loudly cuts him off. "Maybe I should date one of the Bradley boys. Hmm, Josh or CJ?"

Kate is quick to intervene, with a sigh. My sister is purposely dense, sometimes. "I dated Josh, so he's off limits."

"Yeah, that's like, the rules of feminism." Donna rolls her eyes, at her little sister's odd proclamation. "And sisterhood."

"He was your camp boyfriend, so he doesn't count," Leah states, loudly smacking her lips together, with a particularly dramatic pucker, "You didn't even kiss or anything. You just held hands."

Kate turns beet red, humiliated by Leah's obnoxious antics. "We spent a lot of quality time together. Like, we braided bracelets..."

"Friendship bracelets," Leah loudly scoffs, holding up her right arm, pointing at some friendship bracelets, "This one has my name on it, but then this one..."

James chuckles, holding Leah's hand. "It's in our secret code."

"I'll decode it..." Becca glances at James's bracelet, and then Leah's. Lfz, lfzjpmf. "Eww, never mind."

"Too Close" by Next begins to inappropriately blast from an oblivious kid's handheld radio, a stone's throw away, drowning out "Summer of '69." "What do they say?"

Step back, you're dancing kinda close (mmh)
I feel a little poke coming through
On you

James and Leah burst into childish giggles, as Becca rolls her eyes. "They think it's clever, but it's just gross."

*****
11:30 am

On the bottom level of the double-decker carousel, Jackie is proudly mounted on the silver anniversary horse, loud and particularly ornate, as Hyde is lovingly perched beside her. Bobbing up and down, up and down, like a happy little apple.

Jackie happily snatches the apple, yanking him close, with an ample kiss on the cheek.

"Look how cute they are," Eric and Donna lovingly mock, as they playfully nudge each other on their respective horses, like they're kids again. Back in 1976, without a care in the world.

Jackie swings around, clearly not in the same boat, as she's still sinking deep within her emerging mid-life crisis. "Not cute enough to get into Six Flags for free!" 

Proudly perched on the camel, with James illegally shoved on the camel's behind, Leah willfully interrupts. With a sinister grin. "We're cuter."

"You've passed the cute little kid stage." Kate rolls her eyes, in a strange, subtle form of jealousy. "You have bigger boobs than me, and..."

"Uh uh."

"Uh huh..."

Jackie interrupts the childish banter, with some of her own. "I can't believe he doesn't even want an autograph! That would've made Grace so happy. Plus, my Christmas charity drive hosts some of the biggest acts in Chicago. Like Wilco, Liz Phair..."

"How have you two kissed already?" Leah and James burst out laughing, as Kate glares at them, wholly oblivious. "What?"

Leah awkwardly digs through her short pockets, applying some Coca Cola Lip Smackers, while loudly smacking her lips. "You're just picky."

Becca finally speaks up, knowing Kate far too well. Too close for comfort, as they bob up and down. Up and down. "Picky as in, she likes quiet, studious black or brown guys with a sense of humor."

"Tahj Mowry is cute, okay?"

"I don't know why you think that little dweeb is cute." Becca scoffs, finally revealing scrambled bits and pieces of her mother. "Now, Leonardo DiCaprio, he's cute. I think he's cuter in Romeo and Juliet, but Mom disagrees..."

Jackie loudly scoffs, immediately putting in her two cents. "He's so much cuter as Jack Dawson. It's not even debatable."

Nearly on the sidelines, tucked way in the back, Adrian states the overwhelmingly obvious. "They both die in the end, so it doesn't matter."

"He could've totally fit on that door with Rose..."

Adrian, as the formulaic buzzkill, promptly continues. "It's mathematically impossible. Because if you..."

"Rose couldn't have her happily ever after, but I did." The carousel grinds to a halt, and Jackie hops off, with Hyde dutifully following behind. And on her tip toes, Jackie kisses Hyde's temple. "I love you, puddin.'"

Eric and Donna make loud "aww" noises, as James asks the question that's been on his mind. For years and years. "Where did the nickname puddin' come from?"

The "awws" immediately cease, as Eric gingerly pats James on the shoulder. "You don't wanna know."

Chapter Text

"Oh happy day, when Jesus washed. Oh when he washed, when Jesus washed, he washed my sins away!" -Sister Act 2, 1993

Chapter 7: Head Over Feet

Sunday, July 5, 1998
Gurnee, Illinois
11:45 am

With their parents allowing them to spread their wings and fly, Kate and Becca have tentatively chosen a rickety old wooden coaster to catapult them into the sky.

Well, they're almost there. On planet Earth, in Hometown Square, they're wallowing in line. As Kate spills chicken soup, as a melodramatic preteen soul.

"Look, maybe I don't like that I haven't had my first kiss yet."

Becca purses her lips, knowing there's a lot more to the story. Leaving out bits and pieces, for simplicity's sake. "Or maybe you don't like that your little sister has had her first kiss before you?"

Kate dramatically sighs. Her sister has always been the underdog, and she's always been on top. She's the one with the good grades, the one who's involved in a bunch of after-school activities. Girl Scouts, the school paper, creative writing, volunteering, yearbook, dance, tutoring the underdogs on Saturday nights...

But no, she couldn't be visited by the puberty fairy. She couldn't be physically strong, like her mother or her sister. And she couldn't have her first kiss. 

Under the milky twilight, on the moonlit floor...  "I mean, I know she's kissed James lots of times before, but does she need to make it so obvious?"

Hearing her melodic, melodramatic humming, Becca keeps it simple. "Forman, it comes when it comes. You don't have to force it."

Kate thinks about it for a second, a fleeting memory passing her by. She bursts into a sea of reactionary giggles, before settling into a less judgmental stance. "Oh, please. You literally prepared for your first kiss. You wore shimmery lip gloss and had, like, a hundred Tic Tacs. I remember."

"August 5, 1996. Danny Acosta, next to the tire swing." Becca frowns, cringing at the memory. "Then he brought his friends and my brother to root him on."

Kate genuinely chuckles, leaning against the railing. "Your brother's one of his best friends. James likes to see him flail all over the place."

"Except for him flailing on top of me. He doesn't like it." But he's not the real obstacle to her and Danny being together for...for now, having a good time. "But he's nothing, a fly on the freakin' wall, compared to Dad..."

Hands angrily balled into fists, he nearly punches the wall. "What a fuckin' kettlehead. I'm gonna drop an anvil on his head."

Becca sighs, as a calming voice of reason. "But Dad, that'll only make him dumber."

Spending several seconds in pensive thought, Kate asks the inevitable. "Do you think Leah's done more than kiss..."

"I caught them fondling each other in a blanket fort, once." Becca doesn't uncomfortably chuckle; instead, she nearly gags. "It was gross..."

The line barely creeps along, as familiar faces are about to pile behind them. "Shh. The church people are over there."

Now, Becca can't help but laugh. "The church people..." 

Kate angrily nudges her, as she eyes a preteen boy. Her old-time crush, when she was eleven. "Try to look normal."

"As Yoda would say, do or do not, there is no try." Pastor Dan chuckles, as the rest are less than amused. "I'm sure you remember my wife, Joy, and my kids, Leila and Lamar."

"I haven't seen you two in awhile." Lamar steps forward, eying Kate. "You didn't go to Christmas mass last year."

Becca is quick to come up with a bullshit excuse. "There was a lot of snow last year."

Kate rolls her eyes, throwing her best friend and her whole family under the bus. "Like, two inches."

"I thought you two came from Chicago, not from Atlanta." Pastor Dan breaks the ice, with a formidable snow plow. And lots of salt, scattered about. "God bless the late Martin Luther King Jr and his family, but those fools go into a standstill at the sight of ice or snow."

In turn, Lamar lovingly tosses the salt. A heartful throw, over the left shoulder, instead of a superstitious spill. "Your grandma says that you only go to church when you're in Point Place. Is that true?"

Becca is close to chuckling, but she maintains her composure. "No."

But all the while, Kate buckles under the pressure. Rendering Becca's efforts as overwhelmingly futile. "No...maybe...yes."

Like George Washington, Forman cannot tell a lie. "Our parents aren't that religious...well, my mom kind of is, but she can't get us heathens to go."

"Conscientious objectors," Kate immediately interjects, "Plus, my sister Leah obnoxiously objects, because she thinks it's boring."

Leila, the clear underdog, finally speaks her truth. "So, your dad named your sister after Star Wars, too."

Becca's heard the story many times before, but Kate has it memorized. By heart, as she inevitably rambles.

"It's a long story...true story. Before Mara came along, my dad had a massive crush on Leia. So whenever Mom suggested Leia as a joke, for both of us, he'd flip out. Then she'd ask 'what about Leah,' and that little inside joke grew on them." 

"I was just named Leila because my mom wouldn't go for Leia." Her critique is bitter, and outright cynical. "Because Leia's weird, and my mom doesn't like weird names, except..."

Kate graciously nods. "Mine, either. They're boring old Mom and Dad."

"Except for the name Lamar. It means from the sea, and I think we should donate him to the sea." Pastor Dan and Joy glare at her, as Leila dramatically shrugs. "What? It's charitable, it's godly."

Lamar finally returns to center stage, turning back to Kate. With a gracious smile. "You've grown up a lot since I've seen you last summer."

"Yeah, I grew three inches," Kate awkwardly gloats, as a strangely cute beanstalk, "And I have great teeth, so no braces..."

But Becca retains her composure, and angrily spills the salt. "Hey, Forman. Stop gloating!"

Kate is notably annoyed, with some salt of her own. "It's not my fault you have an overbite and a gap between your two front teeth!"

"That's my dad's stupid egg donor's fault, not mine."

Lamar gives Becca a weird look, before turning back to Kate. "She's your best friend, right?"

Becca snarkily smirks. "I like making people feel uncomfortable."

"We're like sisters. I'm Ashley, and she's Mary Kate." She awkwardly laughs, hand on her heart. "Well, except my name is Kate. And her name is Becca."

I wasn't invited to deal with this bullshit. "Call me Becky, and you'll die."

*****
12:00 pm

It sucks being the third...no, the sixth wheel, as Kate has made herself at home with the church people. 

Well, mostly, she's pining over Lamar. Her quiet, studious smart guy, falling right into her theoretical lap.

"I love Shakespeare too! Becca only likes the Leonardo DiCaprio movie." Her hand is once again on her heart, as Becca groans. "I think it's so romantic to fall in love, against the odds..."

Becca bitterly spouts her venom, as they pull back into the station. She's been stuck with Leila, a virtual stranger, as Kate and Lamar squealed like happy little pigs behind them. "But then they die."

Lamar dramatically sighs. "Everyone dies eventually."

Becca chuckles, putting a finger gun to her head. Pow. "Why not with a gun?"

Kate uncomfortably laughs, dutifully explaining her friend's assumed illiteracy. "She means, with a sword."

The cars finally roll to a halt, releasing them from their steel cages. As Lamar becomes a human history book, fresh off of the printing press. "Guns weren't as readily available in the 1500s. Plus, they took forever to load."

"Okay, I'm done with this shitfest." Becca springs into action, grabbing her bag from a sea of cubbies, with a simple wave. 

Leaving the bullshit behind, in the rearview mirror. "See ya, Forman."

Chapter Text

"Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood." -George Orwell, 1948, via 1984

Chapter 8: Smells Like Teen Spirit

Sunday, July 5, 1998
Gurnee, Illinois
12:15 pm

Without all the kids and the man-children in their sight, if only for a fleeting moment, it's strangely peaceful. There's a subtle breeze, a warm tinge, and not a screaming match in sight.

Hyde amply wraps his arms around Jackie's tiny waist, settling into a typical routine of innate love and affection. Without too much PDA, as Becca would call it.

Well, until the peace is swiftly interrupted, like clockwork. Almost the entire line is herded onto the ride, amidst a sea of bumper cars. With Bon Jovi blaring, and they're halfway there. 

Oh, livin' on a prayer
Take my hand
We'll make it, I swear

Taking Hyde's hand, Jackie guides him through the tumultuous sea. Back and forth, amidst the numerous obstacles. Bumper cars, feisty kids that aren't their own, frazzled moms and dads...

Jackie's eyes settle on two bumper cars, cuddling in the corner. She races to them, claiming the red one, whereas Hyde is left with the yellow one.

He doesn't complain, though, as he settles in. Jackie is stubborn as a mule, or as stubborn as a silver anniversary horse, and she's happy as a clam. With a huge smile on her face, that he wouldn't change for the world.

Still beaming, she happily taps her fingers on the steering wheel. "This is way, way better than sharing a Ferris wheel with Michael and Brooke." 

Hyde shakes his head, recalling the numerous incidents of the past. "Kelso always 'rocks it like a hurricane.'"

"And he sings, Steven." Jackie scrunches her nose in notable disgust, as she states the seemingly obvious. "Isn't hair metal awful?"

"Yep. Def Leppard, Scorpions, Twisted Sister, Motley Crue..." Hyde can list a bunch more, but Jackie gets the gist. "They all fuckin' suck."

Happily humming "All My Love," in a freakishly tone-deaf key, she smiles. Amply patting her hand on his waiting shoulder. "They don't hold a candle to Zeppelin, do they?"

He smirks, recalling the happiest of memories. Seeing her walk down the aisle, with a massive train trailing behind her. "Nope..." 

The bumper cars suddenly roar to life, as Jackie promptly speeds off, leaving Hyde in the dust. 

"Catch me if you can!" 

Whizzing past cars filled with children and their unexpecting parents, Jackie's like a little pinball. Bouncing back and forth, as Bon Jovi fades away, and Chumbawamba's "Tubthumping" starts to relentlessly blast. Like an anvil, dropping onto his head, making his skull and his ears bleed...

"Daddy!" In a pestering, urgent voice, similar to her mother's, Hyde screeches to a halt. "Kate's hanging out with the church people..."

"The church people?"

"Yeah, we bumped into Pastor Dan and his kids in line, and..."

Jackie slams her car into Hyde's, bursting into giggles, until her eyes settle on a particularly upset Becca. "What's wrong?"

"Kate's hanging out with the church people," Hyde readily informs, but Jackie is notably confused, "Pastor Dan and his kids."

Like Kitty, Jackie knows all the latest gossip. Especially when it comes to Kate, her favorite godchild. "Oh. Kate has always thought that Lamar is cute."

"Exactly. I was supposed to have a great day with my best friend, and now it's ruined! She's all giddy and has googly eyes for stupid Lamar, who's winning over her heart with freakin' Shakespeare!" Becca shakes her head, with a dramatic sigh. "The best of times? More like the worst of times."

In turn, Hyde subtly corrects. "That's Charles Dickens."

"Whatever," Becca readily dismisses, "Nobody dies a virgin. Life fucks us all."

And as Becca storms off, and the other bumper cars come to a sudden stop, Hyde can't help but groan.

*****
12:20 pm

Now out of the motorized metal cages, the crowd has run wild. Dispersing in every direction, as Jackie and Hyde search for their wayward daughter.

Jackie finds her first, brooding on a bench. "Should I go talk to her?"

"When she quotes Cobain or Orwell, that means I should go talk to her." Hyde awkwardly tries to shoot the breeze, and Jackie nods, well aware of what he's about to say next. "It's our secret code."

"Well, that, and she screamed 'Daddy' at the top of her lungs." Jackie declares, with a worthwhile smirk, proudly pointing at herself, "She learns from the best."

Becca does have some traits of her mother, buried deep within her zen shell. She can be overwhelmingly dramatic, and can strut with a purpose, like she would strut down a runway. In her battered Doc Martens, cut-off shorts, and Nirvana tee. 

But all in all, Becca's a chip off the 'ol block, as Hyde subtly sighs. "But she usually comes whinin' at me when she goes zen and storms off."

"To let off some steam, after holding it all in?" Jackie lovingly pats his knee, glancing at their daughter. "She's just like you."

"With a bit of you." Becca is anxiously twirling her raven locks, anxiously summoning him over. "Damn, she's impatient."

*****
12:22 pm

"She's supposed to be my best friend, but then she abandons me for Lamar!" Play by play, Becca anxiously elaborates. "And then she started putting me down like I didn't read Shakespeare..."

Hyde sighs. "You haven't read Shakespeare."

"Yeah, but I know Juliet kills herself with a sword, not a gun," Becca obnoxiously declares, "You can't be as dramatic with a finger sword, as you can with a finger gun. Pow."

He can't stop but think back to the finger gun his adopted mother presented him, way back in the day. "Uh huh."

Awkwardly fiddling with her fingers, she attempts to create a finger sword, but to no avail. "Can you even make a finger sword?"

Hyde chuckles. "I don't think so."

The chuckle stagnates, and an increasingly uncomfortable silence permeates, as Becca seems to be deep in thought. Still fiddling with her fingers, playing with her eye ring, as an ample distraction.

"I tried not to care, but I was super jealous," She finally posits, after another moment of contemplation, "I didn't use 'whatever' or 'that's cool.' Was that my first mistake?"

He can't help but smile, inevitably thinking of her mother, as he amply pats her on the shoulder. "Sometimes, you can't hide shit. No matter how hard you try."

"When zen fails, ass-kicking begins?" Becca seems to be notably aware of the multitude of tales, while being wholly unaware of other shit. By design, because the kids don't need to know about that shit. "But I just bailed."

And he wants to be seen as a good man, a good dad, not whatever the fuck he was after he bailed from that motel room. Right until he purposefully encountered Jackie at a particular diner, the diner bearing the shorthand of Becca's name.

And as a good man and father, he can't condone offensive violence. "Beck, don't kick Lamar or Kate's ass."

"Theoretical ass-kicking. I should've told them that today was supposed to be a day for us, and she ruined that..." Becca quickly clarifies, before trailing off. "I just called it a shitfest and left."

He looks back at Jackie, with a strangely serene smile. "The day's not over yet, grasshopper..."

A rambunctious redhead, as solid as a rock, has clearly pushed her way through the crowd. With a sturdy beanstalk dutifully following her lead, a smirk firmly planted on his lips.

"We found you first, before Mom and Daddy did!"

Becca sighs, eying the second Forman, and her annoying little brother. "Did you run ahead of them?"

"Way ahead of them. They were walking really, really slowly." Leah is nearly out of breath, as she proudly grabs James's hand. "Mom was carrying the huge cooler bag, and Daddy was talking about the new Star Wars movie that's coming out next year. He said it's supposed to be a prequel, whatever that means."

James, Leah's reluctant knight in shining armor, is the first to try to explain. "Sequel means what happened after. Prequel means what happened before." 

"So the old stuff is the sequel to whatever happened before?"

And Hyde, Jackie's reluctant knight in shining armor, is the second. "Yeah, and your dad has a field day speculatin.'"

"I only like the old stuff when it makes Daddy freak out, like when everybody found out that Darth Vader is Luke's dad, or that Luke and Leia are twins?" Both Forman girls have a distinct disdain for Star Wars, and after Eric rambles on and on about it for an eternity, and so does Hyde. "Daddy gets really annoyed and all squeaky when we talk about that."

Hyde chuckles, along with Leah, who has burst into a formidable sea of giggles. At her dad's expense. "It's the burn that keeps on burnin.'"

Jackie nods, obnoxiously plopping down on the bench next to him. "It's why your dad has been rooting for Luke and Mara for a long time..."

Eric is the first to appear, with some entirely unnecessary trivia, with Donna reluctantly lagging behind. "Since May 1, 1991. Heir to the Empire, to be precise..."

Donna finally comes to a complete stop, escaping a sea of people, eying Becca. Without a scrawny redhead in sight. "Where is Kate?"

Becca is quick to flippantly reply, awkwardly fiddling with her eye ring. "She's with the church people."

"Who?" 

"Pastor Dan and his kids." Eric and Donna seem fairly alarmed, as Becca shoots the breeze. "We'll find her eventually."

Chapter Text

"This is the biggest story of the year. It is Star Wars for this generation." -Jennifer Anglin, about Harry Potter, 2000

Chapter 9: Kiss From a Rose

Sunday, July 5, 1998
Gurnee, Illinois
12:45 pm

After nervously pacing around the park for fifteen minutes, Eric spots his little princess, at the entrance to Yankee Harbor. Walking with Lamar and Leila, her red little head bobbing up and down like an apple in the crowd, and her pale yellow gingham shorts sticking out like a sore thumb. Amongst a sea of blacks, grays, blues, and browns.

Eric beelines towards his eldest daughter, as his youngest loudly bellows. Announcing their presence, like a wayward town crier.

Her blue-green eyes hyperfocus on her currently wayward sister, with a proud, dorky grin. From ear to ear. "I spy, with my little eye, something red and yellow."

The raven-haired boy nods, solemnly admitting defeat, as Donna sighs. "The game is over, you two."

But for James, life is like a continuous chessboard. With so many moving pieces, with so many places to claim and conquer. "The game is never over."

Kate's head swings around, as Eric wildly and nervously gestures. "You're not with who you said you were going to be with."

"I'm a social butterfly, fluttering from place to place." Their wide green eyes collide, as Kate attempts to regain her composure. Her hand is on her heart, as her anxious mind flutters from place to place. "You can trust me, Daddy. I know all about stranger danger."

"You know, but do you use that knowledge for good?"

"Yeah, because I chose good people to surround myself with." She nervously grasps Lamar's hand, as Lamar is notably taken aback. "He's a good guy, and his parents are nice too."

"What about me?" Leila pipes up, mindlessly twirling her hair, "I'm a good person, too."

Kate mindlessly mimics, toying with her scarlet locks. "You're fine, I guess."

Leila is notably offended, making a dramatic squawk. "I guess?"

"You're very...snarky and opinionated," Kate surmises, "Like my sister over there."

Leah obnoxiously waves, in a way only an eight year old can. "Hi, I'm Leah. My sister thinks she's the best at everything, but I can beat her at basketball. And Duck Hunt."

Leila nods, with a melodramatic groan. "I hear ya. Lamar thinks he's the best at everything, too..."

Lamar sighs, finally letting go of Kate’s hand. Pointing at himself, and then to Kate. "We're right here."

Leah loudly and dismissively scoffs. "Whatever."

And quite predictably, so does Leila. "I guess.”

Kate groans, as Pastor Dan and Joy finally amble onto the scene, Dan donning a questionable pair of Hawaiian board shorts and Joy sporting a khaki bucket hat.

"Long time, no see." Pastor Dan waves to the small crowd, thinking he’s the coolest cat in the cave. "I hear you don't go to church when you're not in Point Place."

"I don't like wearing a tie.” Eric, as the leader of the wayward misfits, is the first to speak up. Loudly, and proudly. "Speaking of which, why didn't you have your sermon on this beautiful Sunday?"

"It's a long story...true story." With a particularly dorky cadence, Pastor Dan nearly stumbles. "It's a beautiful summer day, and we've been planning this little family outing for a long time."

Leila nods in agreement, rolling her eyes. "He almost made us wear matching t-shirts."

"So did my Daddy," Leah pipes up, with her signature smirk, "So he can find us in the crowd. I think he just needs glasses."

Eric loudly guffaws. "I do not."

Donna holds the park map a few feet away, and points to a blurry dot. "What does this say?"

Eric notably squints, as Donna celebrates a hollow victory. Tucking the map back into her cooler bag, without allowing him to say a word. "Yeah, you need glasses. You're near-sighted and far-sighted. The doctor told you..."

"That doctor is a quack, I tell ya," He obnoxiously deflects, "A stupid duck. He has no idea what he's talking about."

*****
12:50 pm

The large group is now mindlessly ambling towards Gotham City Park, minus a particularly thrilled Leah and James, when Eric nervously stops in his tracks.

“You know I’m afraid of heights,” Eric uncomfortably announces, “Especially when I’m dangling, like...”

Leah is impatient, reluctantly turning back, as she gingerly gestures him over. “It’s okay, Daddy. It's not gonna be that bad."

But he looks above, at a daunting steel monstrosity, with a big gulp. "Yes, it is."

Jackie is just as impatient as Leah and James, as a sea of people begins to pass them by, and she dramatically sighs. "You used to hang out on the water tower all the time."

"That took time for me to get used to, remember?" He looks to the rest of the group for support, as they amply nod in agreement. “I don’t do well with roller coasters, skyscrapers, or at first, the water tower.”

And of course, Hyde predictably snickers. "Yeah, Forman was shakin' in his boots."

"March 18, 1975. My fifteenth birthday, with a six-pack of..." Donna glares at him, and Leah can’t help but giggle. "Lemonade. And it was cold."

In turn, James can’t help but snicker. Like father, like son. "Cold beer?"

"I had to take off the edge, okay?" Eric futilely explains, pointing to the coaster in abject terror, "Because it felt like I was really, really dangling out there. Like those cars, dangling by only a thread..."

Donna nods, trying to understand. And explain his history, adjusting the monstrous cooler bag on her shoulders. "He nearly had a panic attack on top of Sears Tower, and the North Tower." 

"It was an adrenaline rush," Eric desperately amends, "I...we, decided, to heck with it, let's get married in that courthouse down there."

Leah awkwardly sways back and forth, grabbing James's waiting hand. "That sounds romantic."

"No, it doesn't." He suddenly changes his tune, like a bear protecting his cub. "I was light-headed. Like I would be, if I went up there."

"Getting married in Pop and Ani's backyard sounds nicer." His other cub, his little princess, amply agrees. “And more romantic.”

Eric nods, his nonexistent rose-tinted glasses brimming with nostalgia. “It was, especially with The Beatles humming along in the background.” 

“That sounds really sweet.” A hopeless romantic like her father, Kate can't help but smile. “Here Comes The Sun is my favorite.”

But Leah? Leah's more down to earth, like her mother. But with a distinct adoration for The Beatles. “Uh uh. Twist and Shout is better.”

“I’ll have to give it to Kate, on that one.” The hopeless romantic agrees with his little princess, instead of his little rascal. “Nowhere Man, Yesterday, and In My Life all hold a special place in my heart. And of course, Something...”

Donna notably blushes, before awkwardly motioning to the girls. “At least both of you don’t like Star Wars.”

Kate nods in agreement, firmly in Donna's corner. “I don’t like sci-fi.”

Similarly, Leah scrunches her nose in abject disgust. Memories filling her tiny little head, of her Dad quoting Yoda like he was Martin Luther King. “Daddy’s really annoying about it.”

Eric shakes his head in reluctant disdain, the lyrics of "Twist and Shout" now hammered into his head. 

Well, shake it up, baby, now
Twist and shout

He nervously glances above, at all the steely twists and turns. The ride won't be smooth, like a Steely Dan song, but rough. Hideous, like his KISS phase.

Or even worse, his Taxi Driver phase. “Your mom let me have a Beatles hour at our wedding, as long as I didn’t mention Star Wars for a whole day.”

Kate nervously leans against the railing, reluctantly looking above. “Did he break his promise?”

“No." The girls are notably surprised, as Donna chuckles. "But he kept calling me Linda...”

Eric nods. “May she rest in peace.”

All the while, with similar Star Wars memories dancing in her head, Kate sighs. “That doesn’t sound that bad.”

“But that...” Eric looks above, once again, with another massive gulp. “Looks bad. Will I survive?”

“Yeah," Donna states, with similar bravado to their youngest daughter, harkening back to their sepia-stained childhood, “Stop being a big baby.”

In turn, Leah makes a bunch of baby noises, pretending to suck her thumb. “Wa, wa, wa...”

Eric throws his hands up, in obvious defeat. “Okay, fine. I’m going.”

*****

1:20 pm

After half an hour of waiting, nervously twiddling his thumbs while his stomach goes through an endless vertical loop, he has finally reached the Batcave. 

“Kiss From a Rose” by Seal is blasting in the Batcave, as Eric, Leah, and James have been severed from the rest of the group. 

A packed train flies away from the platform, and Leah and James are left with a nervous mess at the train station.

"Okay, this is like when Jack and Rose were on the Titanic.” Eric nervously leans against the railing, his free hand inferring a near-right angle. “At that 90-degree angle, right before it was about to sink."

"Stop being such a big baby," Leah loudly declares, as a few strangers awkwardly stare, "Mom said she'd buy you ice cream afterwards."

James nods. "Dippin Dots, the ice cream of the future."

"I thought we were going to have food in little pills and have flying cars by now, but no." Eric nervously wrings his hands, imagining that he’s glancing down below. Dangling on a mere thread. Amongst a bunch of little bland specks, he spots his wife, his friends, and the rest of the kids. Watching him, hoping he squeals like a little girl. Or even worse, like a dying pig. "You think we'll have flying cars by 2015, like in Back to the Future?"

James entertains Eric’s nervous rambling, keeping it short and sweet. As a firmly jaded cynic, dismissing a sea of cultural lore. "Probably not...”

But Leah cuts to the chase, with a smirk firmly planted on her face. “You always told me to face your fears, but you’re not facing your fears. You gotta be like a Gryffindor, remember?"

The train pulls into the station, and a sea of friends and muggles awkwardly file out. Donna, who was sitting with an equally anxious Kate, sends a wave in utmost support.

Kate is all smiles, though, as she meets up again with Lamar. Who was perched right behind her with Leila, and he was probably whispering sweet nothings into her ear. 

Quietly seething, as a protective father rightfully should, Kate is a purposely oblivious ray of sunshine. "Dad, it was lots of fun. I didn't get sick or anything." 

But instead, his nervous stomach is still filled with butterflies. "That's great, Kit..."

The gates squeak open, and Leah happily hops into her spot, right next to James. Leaving Eric to sit behind them, with some stranger.

I thought that maybe, just maybe, she'd switch seats and sit with her dad. “Hey, you’re not helping me face my fears?”

Fiercely independent like her mother, with her best friend firmly by her side, she barely flinches. “I’m facing my fears with Jamie.”

*****
1:35 pm

After the lonely ride from hell is over, and a particular group of muggles have awkwardly departed, the whole gang is celebrating with ice cream. 

Leah is still sitting next to James, happily munching on her cookie dough Dippin Dots. As Eric has awkwardly inserted himself between Donna and Kate. “That was fun, wasn’t it, Daddy?”

Eric is still feeling light-headed, still feeling like he's being thrashed around, before crashing back down to Earth. “It was an...adrenaline rush.”

Leah attempts to mash some Dippin Dots with her spoon. "You faced your fears."

Kate nods in agreement. "You always tell me to face my fears, head-on..."

But Leah loudly interrupts, as Kate notably groans. "Like a Gryffindor!"

Donna shakes her head, somewhat dazed and confused, with a pointed groan. "I don't get the craze around those books."

"I read Chamber of Secrets in three hours." Leah brags, as Eric can relate, with an incredibly similar tale. As Leah sends a pointed glare at her elder sister, sticking out her tongue. "I really like Ginny, but I still don't like Hermione."

"Your mom just doesn't like fantasy books." Eric ignores the tension, intentionally burying his head in the sand, with an obvious deflection. "She likes Stephen King novels. And The Scarlet Letter."

Jackie scrunches her nose in disgust, and the deflection does the trick. "Eww, why?"

Donna hesitantly groans, briefly glaring at Eric, before reluctantly moving on to the deadest of pastures. Steeped in the hellish reality of the distant past. "It reflects the rampant misogyny and dehumanization of women in Puritan society."

"That's mostly gibberish to me." Jackie is only somewhat dismissive, as she twirls her spoon. Popping it into her mouth, like she's in a Dippin Dots commercial. "We live in the here and now, Donna."

But the investigative journalist and the political activist in Donna is simmering, ready to explode. We have to learn from the past, for a better future. "And the work isn't done."

"Uh huh, but right now, we're hangin' out." Hyde uncomfortably kicks the can down the road, imagining a joint in his hand. But instead, he has a plastic spoon and some peanut butter Dippin Dots. Sitting at a circular table, surrounded by his friends, and all of their kids. And the biggest squares in the entire world. "I wish we could have God's magic, you know..."

But God's biggest square, Pastor Dan, is quick to protest. "You know, I heard that you should just say no to drugs."

Jackie loudly scoffs, as Hyde receives a rebellious kiss from a rose. "Don't bring DARE over here."

Chapter Text

"All I wanna do, is have some fun..." -Sheryl Crow, 1996

Chapter 10: Quit Playing Games (With My Heart)

Sunday, July 5, 1998
Gurnee, Illinois
2:35 pm

At the edge of County Fair, the Kelso family is perched on a car on top of the triple Ferris wheel, viewing the paved paradise and beyond, as the foolish patriarch attempts to take their little world for a whirl.

But the matriarch fails to condone such rabble-rousing shenanigans. "Michael Christopher Kelso, stop shaking the car."

"But Brooke, it's fun!" Kelso whines, crossing his arms in sheer defiance, "I'm rocking everybody like a hurricane!"

Their two daughters, Betsy and Hannah, stare at their father in horror. Although they have childish bits and pieces of him, from Betsy's petulant whining to Hannah's childish whimsy and continued love for old '80s cartoons, they certainly both linger in their mother's sensible corner.

All the while, Betsy may share much of her father's questionable music taste, but not his love for many '80s hair metal bands. Like Twisted Sister, Motley Crue..."The Scorpions suck."

"The Backstreet Boys are better." Catapulting towards the new millennium, Hannah smiles. "Kevin Richardson is hot."

"No, Smash Mouth is better," Betsy declares, as Hannah and Brooke groan, and Kelso nods in agreement, "And that Barenaked Ladies song. I can recite the whole thing."

"Me too!" Brooke sighs, as Kelso is momentarily distracted, and he happily recites the lyrics. "It's been one week since you looked at me. Cocked your head to the side and said, 'I'm angry.' Five days since you laughed at me. Saying, 'Get that together, come back and see me.'"

Betsy joins in, and Hannah lovingly glances at her sister, with a sigh echoing her sensible mother's. "Three days since the living room. I realized it's all my fault, but couldn't tell you. Yesterday, you'd forgiven me. But it'll still be two days 'til I say I'm sorry."

"Hold it now and watch the hoodwink. As I make you stop, think. You'll think you're looking at Aquaman..."

The Ferris wheel comes to a momentary halt, as they nearly scrape the bottom of the barrel. And Brooke laughs. Summoning her children back to planet Earth. "Come on, let's go."

Kelso pouts and whines, as he attempts to swing the car. And the operator glares, in particular ire. "But I can't finish my song!"

But Betsy has finally seemed to outgrow that game of stubborn charades, eagerly taking his hand, and guiding him off of the ride. "Daddy, we'll finish it in the car. And then they'll be trapped, like fish to the dish. Like sardines."

Kelso chuckles, recalling an ancient tale. "I ate a whole can of sardines in one bite, once."

*****
2:40 pm

The group of man-children and their families have disembarked, waiting in line for some fried dough.

His heart firmly on his sleeve, Fez eyes his son Adrian, who chose to once again ally himself with the Forman family. As he shakes his head, notably distraught. "I can't believe you chose to be with Mr. Red on Sky Whirl, instead of with your loving father."

"There wasn't room for Chelsea." He awkwardly wraps his arm around Chelsea's shoulder, as she reluctantly grimaces. "And I'm staying with them for the summer for a reason."

Chelsea glares at him, astonished by his bluntness. His callous demeanor, as she slowly backs away. "You don't have to be so mean."

"I love Pop and Ani, and I like them too." Adrian refuses to heed to Chelsea's thoughtful advice, as he firmly stands on a sinking ship, turning to Fez. His weird, atypical father. Why can't you be normal? "I love you, but I don't have anything in common with you."

"Ai, but..."

"I stick out like a sore thumb, and you know it." He's ranting and ranting now, with wild hand gestures, almost shoving Chelsea out of the way and off the plank. "Everybody can dance, I have two left feet. Everybody loves theater, and I hate it. Everybody loves having parties, and I hate parties. Call me a party pooper, whatever."

Fez shakes his head, with a saddened demeanor. He tries to understand his son, just like he tries to understand Red, but sometimes? He just can't. "You don't have to hide in the basement."

"Your dance and theater friends are weird! Like Ru Paul and Richard Simmons kind of weird." Dragging his dad's theater friends through the mud, he spots his dad's better friends, with his little eye. They're all eying the Ferris wheel, and Adrian inevitably beelines. "At least your other friends are the cool kind of weird, like..."

Those other friends definitely include his Uncle Eric, although he can be a bit overwhelming. And he's a bit of a dumbass. He may be blind sometimes, but he's not deaf. "Peter Parker, Luke Skywalker, Mr. Feeny?"

Kate flounces and flutters, with a dark-skinned boy firmly by her side. Like she's Shawn, and he's Angela. "Topanga Lawrence?"

"More like, Hermione Granger," Leah loudly surmises, yanking her eyes away from the Ferris wheel, and an entranced James, "Call me Sabrina, the..."

But Kate has had enough of her wayward, pot-stirring sister, as she solemnly scowls. "Tweenaged bitch?"

"Okay, you two." Leah is about to fling her fanny pack at her sister, and possibly go for the jugular, as Eric struggles to hold her back. "This is family time, not family feud time."

"I love her, but I don't like her, most of the time." Leah angrily sticks out her tongue, as Donna takes over holding the little rascal back. With firmness and ironclad will. "Little miss perfect princess, little miss can't be wrong!"

Kate crosses her arms, if only for a fleeting second, before they awkwardly settle on her hips. "Maybe I'll go back to Point Place too, to get away from you!"

Leah takes the bait, and goes a step further. Grabbing James's hand, and staring at Becca. With a wink and a nod. "Uh uh, I'm coming too!"

James groans, preparing for yet another rebellious outburst. "You're gonna rope me and Becca into this again, like at summer camp?"

"Uh huh." But this rebellious outburst is far from self-defense, as Leah goes on the offense. With a convincing, conniving little giggle. "It'll be fun."

*****
2:45 pm

The old gang, once again entirely intact, has found themselves sitting at another round table. With Eric and Donna at the helm, and with the kids sitting at the kids' table.
Fried dough in hand, Red walks onto the sober scene. "We finally found the other dumbasses."

"I'm not a dumbass, but Leah over there is." The tension has barely cooled, as Kate throws theoretical punches. She knows she can't literally punch her, in real time, because her eight year old sister will kick her ass to the moon. And back. "If you keep playing human Bop It, you'll lose brain cells."

"Human Bop It extreme," Leah aggressively amends, "And that's only if he hits me in the head."

"I'd never do that." James lightly tugs on Leah's strawberry locks, as he playfully flicks her cheek. "That was a pull, and that was a flick."

"You don't have enough hair to pull," Leah weakly counters, "You'd look really cute with longer hair."

He shrugs. "It's wavy when it's longer."

"You have my hair, Jamie," Jackie states, merely a stone's throw away, "People pay to have hair like ours, but you have it too short."

Hyde shrugs. "It sucks that neither of you got my hair. The 'fro."

"My hair is dominant, and it's better." Her hard-sought dominance makes Hyde melt, ever so slightly. "My eyes are brown, and dominant, but..."

"Our eyes are better." Becca's ice-blue eyes barely melt, even in the summer heat. "Brown eyes are a dime a dozen."

Eric awkwardly breaks the ice, if only to ease the lingering tension. "I once read that only two percent of people have green eyes, so I think I'm pretty special."

Kelso can't help but burst into childish laughter. "Special ed."

"Hey, crap-eyed boy. Pot. Kettle." Eric waves his pointer finger, firmly in a teacher's stance. As if school hadn't gone out, with a hearty chuckle. "You got held back for killing the class bunny."

Crap-eyed boy shrugs. "I hugged him too hard, and his guts came flying out."

Hannah is horrified, and the others are disgusted. And Becca nearly gags. "Eww."

Kitty waltzes onto the scene, wholly oblivious. "Who wants some fried dough?"

*****
2:50 pm

"Okay, I want to spend some time with Lamar in Point Place, instead of going to summer camp. Especially since I'd be going all by myself." Kate pouts, turning to her very reluctant father. And her reluctantly supportive mother. "Pretty please, with a cherry on top?"

Both Eric and Donna are notably hesitant. Perhaps Eric doesn't want the girls to stray too far from the nest, and Donna? She's all for the girls asserting their independence, but because of sibling rivalry? As an only child, Donna struggles to truly relate.

But Eric truly understands, and so does Kitty, lingering on the sidelines. Siblings can be a pain, even if Laurie strayed so far from the nest and abandoned her responsibilities. Her son, her flesh and blood.

Maybe Leah reminds Eric more of Laurie than Kate does, but like him, Leah's the underdog. The awkward, snarky kid, trying to navigate her way through this crazy, crazy world. But with the ironclad will and grit of her mother, and her Aunt Laurie's pot-stirring ways.

Leah loudly scoffs, proudly stirring the pot. "Princess."

Kate is slightly taken aback, before adopting a melodramatic sigh. "Rascal."

A reluctant referee, Eric interferes. "Hey, I use 'little princess' and 'little rascal' as terms of endearment..."

"We can go to the Dells!" Kitty awkwardly deflects, with a convincing, loving giggle, "It'll be fun!"

Red can also sense the tension, as Leah angrily flicks some sugar at Kate. "Kitty, they're just blowing off some steam."

"Hey, I'll get to spend time with my grandbabies." Kitty is loving and firm, with a heaping spoonful of sugar. And only a slight dash of quirkiness. "You'll love it too. We'll have kids around the house..."

Red maintains his typical dash of misanthropy, but with a flock of grandkids, he's softened over the years. As a smile lingers on his seemingly jaded face. "We always have kids around the house."

Briefly glancing at Adrian and Chelsea, before broadening her horizons to the whole flock, she grins from ear to ear. With her mind dancing with typical but monumental excitement. "We'll have more kids around the house."

Red reluctantly sings his typical tune. "Like a da...darn circus?"

"You love us, Pop." Leah's mouth is half-full, lined with sugar, as Red sends a small smile in his youngest granddaughter's general direction. And Donna notably nudges.  "I know, I know, Mom. Not with my mouth full."

The default disciplinarian groans. "You know, but you don't listen."

"She always does the opposite of what you tell her, Mom," Kate dramatically declares, "It's her golden rule."

But Leah takes none of her sister's theoretical punches, with a theoretical punch of her own. "Silence is golden, duct tape is silver."

"Okay, you two need to can it. Now." The family man barks, far worse than his bite. "Or each foot will go into each of your asses."

Both girls' eyes widen, as Leah stumbles. "Daddy's Darth Vader, not Luke Skywalker."

"I'm here to rescue you from your rabble-rousing shenanigans, so you won't be ne'er do wells." His jaded green eyes reluctantly linger towards his little rascal, with an uneasy but loving smile. Maybe a change would do them good. "Maybe some time in Point Place would do you good."

"As a punishment?" Leah's blue-green eyes become as wide as saucers, before thinking it through, and rendering such a thought as generally ridiculous. "But we'll get to go to the Dells."

Donna finally puts in her two cents, as she enthusiastically allows her daughters to fly from the nest. Yet again, with particular gusto. "Not exactly, but since you can't go to summer camp..."

"I can go to summer camp, since I'm a good girl." Eric and Donna glare at her, well aware of the lead-up to Leah's outburst. Brutal bullying, that Kate wouldn't wish on her worst enemy. "But I won't, out of principle."

Happily paraphrasing the Olsen twins, with her hand firmly on her heart, Kitty beams. "To grandmother's house they go!"