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Picking Petals

Summary:

Set during the course of season 6. After Jackie and Hyde get back together, things go relatively smoothly for them. And they're happy - mostly. But Jackie can't stop thinking about whether or not Steven really meant it when he said he loved her. And if he did, will he ever say it again? These glimpses into their relationship show her moments of clarity, of doubt, and finally, closure.

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own That 70s Show.

This is basically just a glimpse into Jackie's mind during season 6 and a hint of some relationship development we should have seen but never received. Hope you like it :)

Work Text:

He loves me.

Jackie's slender fingers twist into Hyde's ones naturally, fitting together as perfectly as they always have. She leans into him while they walk, trying and failing to keep a goofy grin off her face. She can't believe she got him to watch the entire thing.

"It was a good movie, wasn't it?"

"It was totally unrealistic."

"It was romantic!"

"It was a musical."

"So, what, now you have something against music?"

"Not music. I got something against showtunes. Especially ones that talk gibberish. Literally."

"Come on, Steven, it was about doing whatever you have to to be with someone you love. Even if you have to sacrifice yourself to be with that person."

"That ain't love."

He swindles out of her grasp when they get to the Camino, walking around to get into the drivers side. Jackie picks up right where they left off once they're settled in the vehicle.

"Sure it is, Steven. Just because you might not understand what that's like doesn't mean it isn't real."

Her voice holds the same teasing tone as it's had all night, and the words flow out her mouth easily. But on the inside her blood stops pumping, heart stops beating, and lungs stop working. He's only said it to her the one time and in that context...how is she supposed to know if he meant it or not?

Steven gives her the side eye. "It's not even just the music or the crappy romance - what the hell was the story?"

"I - well…"

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Jackie laughs. "So you didn't like it all. Not even a little bit?"

"Nope."

"Cause I thought I saw your foot tapping during that one song."

"You thought wrong."

"You're the one that I want," she sings, poking him in the side. "You are the one I want! Ooh, ooh, ooh, honey!" She picks up his hand and kisses the back of it. Steven smiles. Score.

He tightens his hold on her hand and lets them both fall onto Jackie's lap. "You gonna go straight back to Donna's?"

Jackie shakes her head. "No."

He smiles again and drops her hand so he can run his over her thigh soothingly. "Good."

Jackie bites her lip, but the smile escapes anyway. He makes her so happy. He looks happy, too, like this - driving with a smirk on his face and hand on her leg. And - "Oh my God, you're humming!"

"I'm - no."

"You're singing the song! I knew it! You did like it!"

"No I didn't. You just got it stuck in my head."

"Whatever you say, Puddin.'"

Ten minutes later Steven slides the kitchen door open and walks in, Jackie following close behind.

"Hey, Red," he greets, heading straight for the fridge.

"Goodnight, Mr. Forman," Jackie says politely, sitting across from him at the kitchen table.

Mr. Forman looks as pleased as he usually does whenever teenagers walk into his house. "Where were you two?" he asks after a moment, as if he had to decide whether he wanted to have this conversation or not.

"It was date night," Jackie says brightly at the same time Steven grumbles, "Went to see a crappy movie."

Jackie sighs exasperated. "Can you at least pretend like you liked it?"

"Why would I do that?"

"We went to see the new Olivia Newton-John movie," Jackie tells Mr. Forman, ignoring Steven.

"Did you like it?"

"No."

"I loved it."

"Do me a favor," Mr. Forman says. "Don't tell that to my wife."

Jackie smiles just as Steven walks up to the table, standing beside her and touching the back of her neck lightly, rubbing his thumb over her skin in smooth circles. "That depends," he says in his scheming voice. "Can Jackie stay past curfew tonight?"

"Of course not," Mr. Forman dismisses immediately.

"Cool," Steven answers simply. He bends down and drops a kiss on Jackie's forehead. "Be right back. I'm gonna go tell Mrs. Forman all about date night. And how I took you to a fancy dinner and bought you flowers first."

Steven did not, in fact, take her to a fancy dinner (they shared pizza at the movie theater), or buy her flowers (though when she pointed that out he did bend down and pick a flower from the garden bed in front of her porch). But Jackie keeps her mouth shut anyway.

He doesn't make it halfway to the kitchen door when Mr. Forman yells, "You get an extra half hour!"

Steven turns back around with a grin. "Thanks, Red. You're a real generous guy."

Jackie jumps up from her seat, an equally triumphant grin on her face. "Goodnight, Mr. Forman." She skips toward Steven and follows him to the basement stairs.

"Half an hour!" Red's voice accompanies them as they make their way downstairs. "And keep that door open!"

The basement is empty and quiet - exactly how Jackie likes it after a date with Steven. He guides her to his room, closes the door, and takes off his boots and coat before sitting on his bed, opening his arms for her to fall into. She does, curling into his side and breathing in deeply.

"Thank you for tonight."

"Don't thank me, it was your idea."

"Yeah, but you still went."

"And I hated it."

"Steven, I'm trying to compliment you. You're a good boyfriend, you know."

She turns her chin up to look at him and spots the unease in his eyes instantly. He's still not completely over what he did. She can tell from the apology screaming out his gaze. She's not sure she's over it either. But she can choose to dwell on that, or the fact that he might love her - really love her.

"So," she says, changing the subject. "Speaking of changing ourselves for the people we love - if you could change one thing about me what would you change?"

A hearty laugh pours from Steven's chest instantly. "Oh no. I'm not playing that game with you."

"Come on! I won't be mad, I swear."

"I'd change the fact that you make me watch crappy musicals with no actual plot."

"I'm being serious, Steven."

"Fine." Steven sits up straighter, forcing her to do the same, and faces her. "You go first then I'll go."

"If I could change one thing about you?"

He nods.

Jackie opens her mouth immediately, but no words fall out. She frowns. One thing she could change about him…Maybe his sideburns. But no, she actually secretly likes them. The fact that he hates her taste in music? No - it probably wouldn't be as romantic when he actually danced with her to her music if he actually enjoyed doing it, and not because he enjoyed pleasing her. That he would say how he feels more often? But she learned from Michael that talking about feelings isn't the same thing as feeling them. She likes Steven's way better, even if it does drive her nuts.

"Not that easy is it?"

Jackie blushes, hesitantly meeting his eyes, and shakes her head.

"Exactly," he says. He scoots closer and places a hand on her cheek. "If I changed anything about you then you wouldn't be the girl I-" He falters and takes a breath. "You wouldn't be Jackie."

Almost. She covers his hand with hers and gives him her most in-love look. "I love you," she tells him.

She hits the nerve; she can see the emotions fill up his eyes, knows for a fact that his zen front is completely gone for the moment and this is him. Her Steven. The one who might really, really love her.

He kisses her, pushing her back slowly until she falls back on the mattress, and even then his lips are gentle and soft and caring.

"Jackie," he lifts his head to look down at her. His eyes are blue and free. One thumb caresses her cheek and she looks up at him with anticipation, waiting to hear the rest of his sentence. His words come out barely as a whisper. "You know how I feel about you, right?"

Jackie's heart clenches. She never knew she could love someone this much.

"I think so," she whispers back.

Steven nods. "Good." And he kisses her again.


He loves me not.

It's 8:34. Jackie's been waiting for over an hour. Impatience, frustration, and disbelief climb up her throat and set it on fire. He wouldn't stand her up. Not today.

At first she waited in Donna's room, listening to music to kill the time. Then she migrated to the living room, pacing back and forth behind the couch until the horrid blueness of the room made her feel genuinely sick.

Now she sits at the kitchen table, trying desperately not to rip her hair out, scream, or both. Then, as if things can't get worse, fear and worry fill her heart. Maybe something happened. Maybe there was an emergency and he couldn't reach her. Maybe - the door opens, and all of Jackie's anxiousness spikes as her head whips up.

It's Donna. Injected with disappointment, Jackie's body deflates with a heaving sigh.

"Hey," Donna greets. "What are you doing in here?"

"Waiting for Steven," grumbles Jackie, dropping her head in her hands.

"Waiting for Hyde? What for? Why don't you just go over?"

"Wait, he's home?"

"Yeah, he got home like...a while ago." She probably sees the disbelieved look that flashes across Jackie's face because she says, "Uh-oh," pulls a seat, then asks, "What'd he do?"

As soon as Donna sits down Jackie shoots up. "Oh, he's dead."

"Nice talk!" Donna yells after her as she storms through the kitchen door.

Her anger accompanies her from the Pinciottis' driveway to the Formans' and transforms into shock and confusion when she opens the door to the basement and sees her boyfriend and his best friend in the middle of a circle.

Steven looks surprised but not displeased to see her. "Hey," he says simply.

"Hey? Hey? Do you know what time it is?"

"Uh-oh," Eric mumbles under his breath, trying to hide a smile from his face. "Someone's in trouble," he sings.

Steven blinks. "What's your problem?"

"Oh my God. Are you - are you serious? Steven, it's our anniversary."

Eric's eyes widen and he jumps off the couch. "Yeah, I'm not gonna be a witness to murder. Later, man." He dashes up the stairs too fast to even hear Steven's response.

"No it isn't," he contradicts. "It's not the third."

"Our new anniversary. It's been two months since we got back together! I reminded you!"

"When?"

"Weeks ago!"

He stands up. "That was weeks ago, Jackie, how was I supposed to remember that?"

"It's supposed to be important enough for you to remember!"

"C'mon, Jackie, for over a year now I've remembered the third every month and done everything I'm supposed to. You can't expect to remember all the other stupid little dates too."

"Stupid little dates? Crap? Steven, all those stupid little dates were important milestones in our relationship!"

"Jackie, you make us celebrate the anniversary of the first time I bought you flowers - which was for the anniversary of some other thing I can't remember!"

Then he starts to laugh, because he's an ass, and he's high, and because the expression on her face must be pretty ridiculous. It's hard to hear him over the buzzing white noise in her head. She feels like the world is splitting in two. Maybe it's just her heart.

"So none of that matters to you."

"Jackie, come on, this is ridiculous. Those dates don't matter. What matters is-"

"What matters is that I expect you to care about things in our relationship!"

"I care about you."

"Then act like it!"

Steven sighs and steps in her direction, but she takes a step back. She doesn't want him to touch her. His hands have a way of soothing her just from coming in contact with her skin, and she's in no mood for that.

"Jackie, look," he says again. "I had a long day at work and I came home and I was tired and I just wanted to relax with Forman and-"

"And what?"

"Jesus, can you let me finish?"

"Fine. Finish." She crosses her arms against her chest and forces herself not to cry. She wants - needs - him to say the right thing. A sinking part of her thinks maybe she's being dramatic. Does she even know what the right thing to say is?

Maybe not, but she knows it isn't, "Nothing. Nevermind," which is what he says.

For months now she's had to hold on to the thought that even if he can't say to her that he loves her at least he can act like it.

Yet here he is. Not acting like it. Not caring for a second that tonight she'd been all dressed up and hopeful until she walked into the basement.

"You know what, Steven? Fine. I won't remind you about any other stupid little dates from now on. I hope you had a nice relaxing night tonight. Sorry I ruined it."

"Jackie," he says again, with a defeating sigh, but she turns away from him and walks out the door. He doesn't follow her.


He loves me.

The gang sits in their usual seats as they exchange stories - Michael in the lawn chair, Fez on the arm of the couch, Donna tucked under Eric's arm, Jackie held firmly on Steven's lap.

While Michael drones on and on about one of his many sex adventures, Steven's finger draws slow circles on her lap. She captures his next hand in hers and laces their fingers together. He drops a tiny, secret kiss on her shoulder, too quick for any of the others to notice. Fighting a grin, she lifts the hand that's holding his as if she's pushing hair out of her face, but instead she kisses it just as swiftly, leaving a tiny mark of shiny lip gloss.

She can tell he's hiding a smile because he drops his head on her shoulder and turns it so no one else will see. And then the hand drawing circles on her lap rises just a little. She has to bite down to stop herself from giggling out loud.

She's so wrapped up in him that she's lost complete track of Michael and whatever he's talking about, and the only thing that catches her attention is her name in his mouth.

"Yeah, like me and Jackie's first time," he was saying in the most harmless tone. Instantly Hyde's gaze flicks up to glare at Michael, but he's not looking in their direction. Michael whistles lowly. "That was...well, it wasn't something to be proud of. That's why I had to seriously consider my options afterwards. Almost didn't call her. But then I thought-"

"Kelso." Steven's voice is threatening and low, and his grip tightens on Jackie's leg.

Jackie feels shame, hurt, and anger hit her all at once. She remembers her first time far too well. She remembers after it even better. It takes no effort to recall sitting on her bed and crying, wondering why it wasn't magical, trying to figure out if she did something wrong, desperately waiting to hear back from Michael.

She'd felt so lucky when he finally called her back; she sucked up to him for weeks after in an attempt to be the perfect girlfriend. To try to live up to some unknown standard. The memory fills her with so much disgust for both herself and Michael, she jumps off Steven's lap and storms into his room.

She can hear her ex-boyfriend's lame excuses come in - "C'mon, Hyde, I was just joking, man, don't-" - and then she slams the door behind her. She goes to his record player immediately and plays the first thing she can get her hands on, wanting to flood the room out with noise to ensure she wouldn't hear any more of Michael's crap.

Though she's sure Steven will make sure he's done saying it anyway. Even though Michael's given up trying to compete for her, he's still Michael and likes to talk about her and their relationship, usually as a form of a burn or joke.

Usually his words bounce off her with ease. But, God, sometimes he could be so senseless.

The music that's playing is loud and fast-paced and not Jackie's style at all. She's glad for it. It feels like the right kind of music to sit down and be angry to. Which is exactly what she does.

She crosses her legs on Steven's cot, leans back against his dresser, and waits for him to come in. She's not sure how long it takes him. Normally she measures time in the number of songs that have played, but she can't tell if the same song is playing from when she started the music or not.

When he finally comes in the first thing he does is turn the music way down. "That ain't your style," he states.

"Yeah, well," she mumbles, turning her head down to look at her interlocked fingers.

"I took care of him."

"Good."

"He's Kelso, Jackie," Steven sighs. "If I had my way he'd never say your name ever again. But he-"

"I know," Jackie interrupts, taking his hand. "I know. Really. I don't know, I guess what he said just...bothered me."

Steven lifts their hands to kiss hers. "Nobody's first time is great," he promises. "And if yours was terrible, it was cause of Kelso, not you."

She gives him a soft smile. "Thank you, Puddin.' I just hate remembering all the terrible things about our relationship. It makes me feel so stupid. I mean, I cried after our first time, Steven. I just... I felt so terrible and unloved, which was the exact opposite of how I wanted to feel. And hearing him joke about it just..." she shudders as a way to finish off her sentence.

Steven takes a long, slow breath. She knows it's because he doesn't like talking about her and Michael together.

"Man, I'm sorry, Jackie."

Jackie frowns. "What are you sorry for?"

His eyes travel down to look at their hands - a sign that he's nervous and unsure of himself. "For...you know, Kelso was a shitty boyfriend and he did shitty things and I knew and I didn't do - or say - anything."

It's so incredibly hard to stay angry at her ex-boyfriend when her current, much better boyfriend, is so good at making her love him.

He continues to stammer out an apology he doesn't even owe her. "We all knew, and we should have - or at least - I just want you to know that when I think about what he did-"

She can't take it anymore. She leans over and kisses him. He sighs his relief into her, glad to be doing something with his mouth that's not talking.

"Thank you," she tells him. "But it's okay. I don't care about any of that. Not anymore."

"You sure?"

She nods. Warmth spreads through her body. She wonders if this is what it's like to feel loved. Like, really loved.

"Okay," he says. "You wanna go back outside?"

Jackie shakes her head. Steven smirks. "Me neither."


He loves me not.

This feeling is becoming too familiar for Jackie's comfort. It's too easy to recognize this terrible, all-encompassing feeling of doubt and fear. She tries to tell herself that Steven cares about her. Of course he cares about her.

Still she thinks it would be easier if he had never told her he loved her. Then she would be able to fool herself that there's some mental block that truly prevents him from saying it. But once, once, he was desperate and selfish enough to look her in the eyes and tell her. And if he could, and he meant it, why won't he say it again?

Why won't he love her enough to tell her he does?

Unless he doesn't.

That would explain the conversation she's overhearing right now. She's so tired of overhearing - so tired of feeling like she learns more about him when he's talking to someone who's not her.

She's especially tired of hearing him talk about nudie bars. As if it isn't bad enough she has to put up with him calling other girls hot. Now she has to listen to him talk about strippers. And how totally hot they are. And how "if you're lucky you could get a good fuck out of 'em too."

Why couldn't he just sit in on these conversations without jumping in? Jackie grits her teeth, but instead of turning and running the other way, she finishes her descent into the basement. As soon as the boys notice her they all shut up and clear their throats. They couldn't be more obvious if they tried.

"Hey." Steven smiles at her and stretches his arm out for her like he always does.

"Don't hey me," she snipes, hoping she gets on his nerves as well as he gets on hers.

He sighs audibly and she can hear him mutter, "Be right back," to the other three idiots as he follows her into his room.

He begins his speech the moment he walks through the door. "I don't know what you heard, but-"

"I heard everything," she lies. She only just got here five minutes ago. But it was enough.

"Jackie, it's just guy-talk. Nothin' to get mad over."

"Yeah, well, I wish you wouldn't talk about other girls," she pouts, folding her arms.

He releases a small laugh. "I wasn't talking about other chicks, man!"

"You were talking about strippers. So if those are the kinds of girls you'd rather be with then-"

He raises his eyebrows and crosses his own arms. "You gonna get jealous over hypothetical strippers I've never met?"

Immediately a fire blazes in Jackie's eyes. "I am not jealous."

Rolling his eyes he says, "Yeah, yeah. Look, let's not have a fight over this crap, all right? It's not a big deal, just forget about it."

For some reason, him dismissing the entire thing - though it's really not that big a deal - sends her spiralling.

"No!" she yells. "No, I don't want to forget about it!" Having turned to walk back outside, he whirls around to face her with a bewildered expression on his face.

"Oh, you want to fight, is that it? Well I'm not playin' this game, Jackie, so-"

"Neither am I! I don't play games, Steven. We are supposed to be in a relationship, okay? You don't get to just decide what we will or won't fight about!"

"Fine. But can we deal with this later? I was in the middle of something."

"No we can't 'deal with this later.' You can't just push me aside and then bring me back out when it's convenient for you or when you want a good fuck or-" The words feel and sound foul coming out of her mouth.

"A what?" Now he's really looking at her like she's crazy, like she's making this all up. "Hold on." He takes four quick strides back to the door and yells through it, "Forman, turn up the music!" then comes back in, closing and locking the door. Obediently, Eric follows instructions and the music outside grows louder. At least he's good for something.

Walking back over to her, her heart beating wildly, he asks, "What did you just say? I don't think I heard that right."

Swallowing tightly, Jackie raises her chin defiantly. "You heard me."

He looks angry at her now. Angry and impatient. "Look, first of all, Jackie, I've never - never - fucked you."

"Isn't that what you call it?"

"No. Not with you. I've never - what the hell is this really about, Jackie?"

"It's about you being a bad boyfriend!" she screams at him.

He looks worse than bewildered and angry now. He looks hurt.

She barrels on while the adrenaline is still pumping through her heart. "It's about you barely talking to me anymore and acting like being with me is some kind of chore and like you're only with me because you have no other choice and like you don't-"

"Like I don't what?" he demands, his jaw set with disbelief, anger, and zen.

"You know what."

"No. I don't. Say it."

"No you say it!" she yells, practically begging.

But she's lost him - she has since the moment she called him a bad boyfriend. She sees him shut down, cut himself off from the world and from her, buried somewhere so deep within himself not even she can reach him. Probably his heart, she thinks bitterly. Clearly she doesn't reach him there.

"If you think I'm such a bad boyfriend why're you still here?" he asks, his voice frustratingly calm.

"Fine," she says with a crack in her voice. "I'll go."

"Fine. Go."

So she goes.

When she opens the door she almost cowers back inside. The music is deathly loud. Eric must have turned it up even more to drown out her screams. He's a good friend sometimes. He turns it down once he sees her.

"Damn, Jackie," Michael says, giving her an incredulous look. "Fez was just asking our advice on how to get a girl to sleep with him."

If looks could kill he would have dropped dead.


He loves me.

Jackie trudges the hallway at school trying not to look as dead as she feels. She avoided Steven all weekend, sure that he would come to his senses and pick up the phone and call her. But he never did, and Jackie's pride and heart were too hurt to make the first move.

The hope she'd been trying to hold onto is now almost completely out of reach.

Maybe he's trying to send a message through the silence. Maybe this silence is the answer she's been waiting for all along: he doesn't love her. The idea squeezes her intestines and makes her feel sick. She hasn't had a proper appetite in days. She's loved him for so long now. He can't be breaking up with her. Not like this.

The sun is shining way too bright for it to be this cold. It's nearly blinding. She blinks the light out her eyes as she walks down the stairs that lead into the parking lot.

She must be going crazy for real. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter and then reopens them. Either she's really losing it or Steven's leaning against the Camino waiting for her. He hasn't picked her up from school in months.

The thoughts that had been plaguing her mind all day don't make her happy to see him. They make her scared. Taking her very slow time, trying to gather herself to prepare for the worst, she walks down the stairs and across the lot to where he's parked.

"Hey," he says to her once she's stopped in front of him.

"Don't you have work?" Her tone is cold and distant.

"Took the afternoon off."

"Why?"

He releases a breath and stops leaning against the vehicle, standing straight when he tells her, "It's been two days, Jackie. That's the longest we've gone without talking in...I don't even know how long."

"Yeah, well…" she clears her throat. "I needed some time to think." The lie comes off her tongue shakily.

"To think," he repeats. "To think. Think about what? I don't even know what or where this is coming from. I don't even know what the hell-"

"Yes, you do," she insists forcefully. "You do know. You just-"

"What, you think I don't love you?"

Jackie almost chokes on air at how easily he seems to say it. She looks at him wide-eyed, answering his question with her expression.

He rushes forward and cups her head in his hands and kisses her. It feels so good to kiss him again, to touch him and smell him and just be with him. She responds immediately, throwing her arms around his neck and arching her body towards his.

Until she realizes what he's trying to do. She places both hands on either of his shoulders and shoves him away forcefully.

"No," she says, ignoring the look on his face. "No, I don't want you to just kiss your love into me, Steven, I need to know."

"Jackie-" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. "Lemme show you something." He opens his wallet and shows it to her. "This is the picture of us I keep in my wallet. Only old dudes keep pictures in their wallet. Do I look old to you? I'm not, but here I am, with a picture of you in my wallet. That I put there. Without you asking!"

"I-"

"Get in the car."

By the time she's scrambled to the other side of the car and gotten in he's sitting waiting for her. He clicks open the glove compartment. "Here's your perfume, your lip gloss, your hair brush. Oh, and your lotion finished so I threw it out. I was gonna steal another one from Mrs. Forman but I remembered you don't like smelling like you're older than 25."

"Steven-"

"Just wait." He reaches into the back and throws a bag onto her lap. Jackie peeks in and can see some type of fabric and what looks like a picture frame. "That is the anniversary gift I bought you. Our anniversary's not for another three weeks! Oh, and by the way, out anniversary is the third, cause we've been going out for a year and a half, not a couple months."

"That's not what I-"

"Don't talk yet."

He puts the car into gear and presses on the gas. They drive in silence for minutes, making the short trip back home, to the Formans. He grabs her hand in the driveway and pulls her behind him, through the kitchen, down the stairs, and into his room.

"All the crap you've ever bought me is in this room. Jackie, you're everywhere. You think I can be like this with anybody else? You think I'm with you cause I have no other choice - as if I have a choice? If I had a choice in this I'd be with anyone but you, okay? Cause you're Kelso's ex and you get under my skin and you're a bratty rich kid and you drive me insane. But I'm standing in this room with you because the way I feel about you - God knows why - I feel - dammit, Jackie!" He takes a deep breath. "I never stop thinking about you, alright? I can't get you out of my damn head. The last two days have been total crap because I miss you when you aren't here, and I'm fuckin' insanely happy when you are and, goddamn it, I DON'T CARE IF YOU HAVE SEX WITH ME OR NOT. I'm not with you for sex or a quick fuck." He grabs her hand and smashes it to his chest, right over his heart, and Jackie can feel it beating wildly and out of rhythm. "I can get sex anywhere. I'm with you because I have no other choice. Because I love you, and I can't help it. And maybe I don't say it enough, but if you can't see that then...you're not lookin.'"

Jackie blinks. She wishes she'd recorded that. She's...she's...she's rendered completely speechless.

This is him. This is her Steven. With his soul staring open, hers for the taking.

"You love me."

All the tension flows out of him at once, and he says defeatedly. "Yes."

With a cry of relief she buries her face in the crook of his neck and wraps her hands around him and holds him as tightly as she could.

"I was so scared you didn't," she whispers against his skin.

Pressed up against him, she can still feel his heart racing, but his tone is slow and smooth and soft. He hugs her back and kisses the top of her head gently. He shakes his head. "Course I do. And I need you to get it through your thick skull so we don't have to go through this again."

Jackie reaches down and captures his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together and squeezing it tightly. She fulfills her biggest dream when she says, "I love you too." She's wanted to say it for so long.

He bends his head to kiss her cheek, then uses his free hand to cradle her face softly. His voice is barely above a whisper but she hears it. "I love you more."

He loves me.