Work Text:
Just Jackie
Jackie Burkhart, who received only material support from her father and virtually none of any kind from her mother, had always fantasized that one day the public would adore her in ways that the people who were ostensibly closest to her never had. As a teenager, she had channeled her considerable energy, determination and enthusiasm towards becoming popular, only to realize belatedly that in high school those who are deemed ‘most popular’ are somehow also the least liked and most resented. Until connecting with the misfits who gathered daily in Eric Forman’s basement, Jackie had been of technically high social status but without any true friends.
Not that her integration into even that group had been seamless, of course---fiercely outspoken, brilliant Donna often resented that Jackie was so materialistic and cared too much about trivialities that didn’t matter while too little about the issues that did. Donna’s longtime boyfriend, the endearingly dorky and naturally introverted Eric, was taken aback by the high volume of Jackie’s voice and the frequency with which she chose to use it. Jackie’s own on and off (emphasis on the ‘off’) boyfriend, the charming but selfish and hedonistic Michael Kelso, had seemed to like her most before actually getting to know her beyond a superficial level. And Steven…
Even now, nearly a full decade since they’d first met and over two years since they’d seen each other, Jackie’s heart galloped at an alarming pace whenever she thought of him. Which happened, embarrassingly enough, several times a day. “Getting over it” had never been in Jackie’s repertoire. Everyone referred to him by his last name, Hyde, but to Jackie he’d always been Steven---as if she viewed him as an entirely different person than anyone else did. To them, he was the cool iconoclast whom genetics and a brutal upbringing had made far wiser and more mature than they could ever be even as he seemed intent on sabotaging his potential by smoking too much pot, breaking certain inconvenient laws, and following his own ethical code that no one else could crack. Jackie’s admittedly biased yet unwavering gaze had detected a whole lot more that no one else seemed inclined to notice. Underneath that determinedly detached demeanor was a man capable of fierce loyalty, intense passion, and far more love than anyone ---especially Steven himself---would have believed possible.
She cast a look around the empty studio in which she stood, clutching a microphone in one newly manicured but sweaty and slightly trembling hand. She could still see his face, hear his voice, and feel his arms reaching for her. She shivered even as the hot August sun streamed through the studio when she recalled how deeply he kissed her, how tightly he held her and how passionately they made love, his protective sunglasses tossed off to reveal that soft, vulnerable look in his eyes he permitted only her to see. She thought of the seemingly simple yet achingly meaningful gifts he’d bought her out of his meager guitar teacher’s salary, the songs he had written and performed for an audience of one, and the way he’d defend her when others pointed out her myriad flaws. Her stomach still somersaulted when she replayed the mental tape of the proudly rebellious loner confessing that he loved her, even needed her, as he never had or could another soul.
It was, Jackie reflected wryly, her biggest and by some definitions only life accomplishment: she had shown Steven Hyde that he was capable of both giving and receiving the affection that had been foreign to him as a neglected child. Meanwhile, he had made her feel as if she were someone with depth and worth, the kind of woman who could carve out a meaningful career beyond being someone’s wife. “You can do better than staying here in Point Place with me, Jackie. I can’t give you what you want…or deserve.”
That was a large part of why she was here in what her agent had optimistically declared a part of Los Angeles with “real character,” which meant that the neighborhood was a rundown dump. Her few yet seemingly endless years here had been lonely and deflating ones, and the confidence that Jackie donned as self-protective armor had started to erode. She had thought longingly of returning to Wisconsin – to him, the only ‘him’ who would ever truly matter – but somehow she felt she owed it to both him and herself to prove that the cynic’s uncharacteristically deep faith in her had been justified. Some of her worst traits ---her annoying persistence, her obstinate refusal to surrender when faced with inconvenient realities, her loud and unapologetic self-advocacy honed by years of no one else doing that advocating for her, and her tendency to care too intensely about what (and who) she wanted had proven to be odd assets in LA, where only the most stubborn of brats could survive. Her dream of becoming a talk show host was finally on the verge of becoming a reality. Granted, Just Jackie had a miniscule budget and projected ratings so low that it seemed the networks didn’t think anyone other than her handful of friends back in Wisconsin would tune in, but it was the opportunity Jackie had always longed for. She pivoted slowly around the studio, still hours early to film her first live episode, and found herself wishing he were there to share this moment with her.
“Why would you want me there?” Steven would ask, ruthlessly rational as per usual. She imagined this is how he would have replied to her email announcing the date of her premiere---if he had replied at all, which he hadn’t. “I’m not exactly a bubbly celebratory type who’s going to emit high-pitched excited squeals and wave pom poms from the front row, and you know I always say the wrong thing – or, worse, nothing at all – when someone needs to be comforted or reassured.”
Imaginary Steven was not wrong. She had always needed ---or at least wanted (really, it was hard for her to discern the difference sometimes) – more than he felt he could give. And yet at that moment, all she craved was his presence. Irrespective of what he did or didn’t say or do, she just wanted the person she loved most to be there during the most important moment of her life. “This time I wouldn’t ask for more than you or any other mere mortal can give,” Jackie mused aloud, as if even with the aid of a microphone he could somehow hear her from over 2,075 miles away. “Just you being here would be enough.”
“Talking already? I mean, I know no one has that ear-splitting ‘gift of gab’ quite like you do, but I thought maybe you’d want to save your voice for when some of your adoring fans are actually listening.”
Jackie gasped and, with her usual understated subtlety, screamed as she sprinted towards him and leapt into his waiting arms. “Steven! Ohmygosh, you’re here!”
“Still don’t miss a trick, do you?” He had taken off his vulnerability-shielding sunglasses, so she could actually see him wink at her. And then watch as those same eyes clouded over with a mix of emotions he could never verbalize but had vowed to try harder to show.
“Think I can score a last minute ticket to the premiere of Just Jackie? You know I’m willing to circumvent the law to do it. I just have this need to be there at the moment my soulmate fulfills her lifelong dream.”
“The second you walked in here, my real dream just came true,” she assured him. “I love you, Steven. I never stopped. I never will.”
“Finally something we have in common,” he teased, and then took a deep breath. “I love you too, Jackie. Even if it means living in LA or on Mars-”
“Mars might be easier…”
“-I never want to be away from you again. If you promise not to revoke my Cool Card, and even if you do, I’m going to scream and cheer my lungs out during every single episode of this talk show.” They kissed and held each other until the studio staff arrived and jokingly asked whether Jackie had suddenly decided to switch genres and film soft core porn instead.