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#why did you let them give him the Season 4 Sideburns
thebluemallet · 1 year
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My Top 10 Favorite Moments From Bridgerton Season 2, Episode 2: "Off to the Races"
It has officially been one year since Season 2, so please enjoy my upcoming series of posts about my favorite moments from each episode (and ignore the fact that I never finished doing this for Season 1). My favorite moments in no particular order (except maybe chronological):
10- Shave and a Haircut (Two Bits)
The back and forth between Anthony and Benedict is gold. Anthony is being his usual, brooding, calculating self. Benedict is just waiting for all of Anthony's plans to get derailed by the sissster! And probably the most quoted line from the trailer is in here and I love it. I am, of course, talking about Anthony's desire to go about choosing a bride with his head and not his dick heart.
I don't know if the cloth over the face was an intentional nod to Anthony's sideburns from last season, but if it was, kudos to the production team for thinking of that.
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9- Door to the Face
I a-door Kate telling off Anthony and then shutting the doors to the drawing room in his face. She is the gatekeeper and she'll do whatever it takes to keep Anthony away from Edwina.
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8- Hug-blocked
Oh, Penelope. You sure have some awkward moments, don't you. First, you slightly horrified your best friend when you said "...someone like--Colin!" Then you almost forgot yourself in the excitement of Colin being home and went to hug him before the other Bridgertons cut you off. At least it gave her a moment to remember herself and luckily for her, no one else seems to notice what she almost did.
While I would like the montage for season 3's first episode to be Colin getting increasingly confused/stressed out/sad because Penelope is ignoring him, I think it might actually end up being more of this awkward cutie trying and failing at the marriage mart.
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7- "You think too much about it." "And you too little."
Kate and Anthony's argument over which horse will be the victor gives me life. And they're so absorbed in each other that Edwina's and Dorset's attempts to try and break up their debate get drowned out. And the two of them just absolutely losing it while watching the race is amazing. And I love the look on Anthony's face when Kate starts whistling. He's bewildered. He's in awe. He's horny as hell.
How did nobody else notice that these two were perfect for each other based off of this interaction???
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6- The Fencing Scene
I would hereby like to petition the showrunners to please let us see the flowy white shirts the men are wearing more often. Anyway, on to the scene. Anthony is having a temper tantrum ranting to his brothers about Kate. If this is Anthony trying to hide how much he likes Kate, then he is going to be absolutely sickening in season 3 when he doesn't have to hide it anymore. I'm amazed that the brothers aren't picking up on it. Colin, you're forgiven since you've only just returned to the country, but Benedict, you haven't taken any drugs yet at this point in the show. You should have been able to read between the lines.
And did I mention: give us more of the flowy white Regency men's shirts.
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5- Trojan Horse
Showing up at Lady Danbury's house with Nectar showed that a) Anthony really knew nothing about Edwina and b) he accidentally got the perfect gift for Kate. If only he wasn't so stupid. But his stupidity leads to some great lines this season so I'll take it.
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Seriously, this is the 19th-century equivalent of getting someone a Ferrari, why would you do this, Anthony?
4- Pouty Anthony
Anthony pouting over being excluded from the invitation to Lady Danbury's. That's it. That's all I have to say.
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3- Edwina Bonding With Penelope
Let's be real, Penelope's hair and outfits improve this season...but not until episode 3. Edwina is kinder than I am because she is very nice to Penelope about her dress and even makes her smile. I would not be able to say one nice thing about that outfit without lying through my teeth. Obviously, Penelope had other motivations when she spoke with Edwina, and she needed to be among the suspects for the Queen for plot reasons, but Edwina made Penelope feel good about herself for a minute there. I wish this friendship had been explored a little more this season, but alas.
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2- "You are Pen...you do not count."
The only reason this is on my list is because I'm hoping this moment to come back and bite Colin in the ass in season 3. I like to imagine that when he starts to come to his senses, he'll remember this moment as he's about to drift off to sleep, cringe, and then lie awake for hours wondering what the hell is wrong with him.
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1- Lady Danbury's Warning
Yes, Lady Danbury dropped the ball this season by not picking up on the attraction between Kate and Anthony sooner and also not denouncing Anthony courting Edwina. When Kate insists that she doesn't care what anybody thinks of her and she'll be more than happy to live the rest of her life alone in India, Lady Danbury calls her out on this. It's obvious to us and Danbury that Kate does care what people think of her (read: Anthony) and that she would be devastated at leaving her family behind and probably never seeing them again.
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tragedynatural · 3 years
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sam flatironed his bangs every morning in season 1 with a straightener he got from claires it was just never relevant to the story
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whosscruffylooking · 3 years
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The Purest Things- Repeating History
Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and alcohol. Canon typical violence.
A/N: this takes place during season 3 episode 11, birthright. i had a lot of fun studying this episode and making it my own. i have changed certain dialogue and who says what for the sake of the story. please enjoy!
The Purest Things Masterlist
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(my gif! please credit if you use.)
january 2008
Syd Moore said, “Disregard for the past will never do us any good. Without it we cannot know truly who we are.”
+++++
Your alarm is often hushed before it even has an opportunity to set off nowadays because you usually wake up before it even has the chance.
4:25 A.M.
You groan and toss your pillow over your face. Maybe, just maybe, you can will yourself to sleep for a little longer. As if someone heard your pleas for slumber, your phone starts buzzing on your bedside table. Of course, it is unnecessary for you even to read the messages. There is a case.
+++++
"Last night in Fredericksburg, a 20-year-old woman, Molly McCarthy, was abducted," J.J. begins, "She's the third to go missing in the last 6 weeks. All disappeared from public places. No one's seen them since until now. A couple days ago, body parts with cigarette burns were recovered from a national park that was once the site of the battle of Chancellorsville."
"Were they able to make an I.D.?" you and Hotch ask simultaneously. Your eyes meet, but he breaks the contact abruptly. Flustered and insecure, you bury your focus deep into the file in front of you. The group discusses the case for a couple of minutes, but you are so concentrated on the papers that you hardly absorb any information they've shared.
There is something familiar about this case to you. Suddenly, realization strikes.
Rejoining the discussions, you say, "I remember reading about a case like this in Spotsylvania county. Similar markings on the bone. It was the winter of 1980, also in Fredericksburg. There were 5 women aged 16 to 24. They were buried in pieces."
"Same markings. Same civil war battlefield," J.J. responds in agreement.
The team agrees that this could be the works of the same killer. There are aspects of the more recent killings that would be impossible to copycat since those details had never been released to the public. But, if this is the same unsub, what's he been doing for the past 27 years?
+++++
Hotch focuses on the road while you watch out the window of the passenger seat. Occasionally, you sneak the odd peek at him. His stoicism is alluring, and you find yourself drawn to this demeanor like a moth to a flame. Piecing together the tiny glimpses you've collected thus far as if working on a mental puzzle, you scrutinize his attributes. His eyes bare the beginnings of crow's feet. Only his sideburns tease the speckling of salt and pepper undertones. His lips turn downwards at the corners, no doubt from years of scowling at unsubs.
Reid speaks up from behind you both and breaks your train of thought. Probably for the better, there's no reason why you should examine your unit chief so intently.
"It's funny--he always dumps the bodies in this battlefield, no matter what the risk."
"It's a respected landmark. He's flaunting," Aaron reckons.
"It makes him feel important," you say in agreement.  
Once you have arrived at the crime scene, you follow Agent Hotchner closely. Reid trails ahead, most likely trying to keep up with his own train of thought.
"How does someone not see or hear them?" You ask the sheriff.
He turns to you with a defeated expression, "It was dark. He had the advantage. Molly's boyfriend was the last person to see her. He said she was alone for a minute, maybe less."
Hotch surveys the surroundings, "He's patient and works fast."
"He's perfected his M.O.," Reid states while looking around.
You cross your arms as a wave of unease gets the best of you as you envision the moments leading to Molly's attack.
"If our unsub's pushing 60, he's gotta be strong enough to carry her a long way without her struggling," you bring out.
Hotch looks to you with a concerned squint. You shake your head, signaling to him that it's nothing you can't get under control. He nods in response. The sheriff agrees to point out the various entrances to the park.
"I'll catch up with you," your Unit Chief states. He motions for you to step aside with him, and you comply.
"You know, ever since my wife and I had our son, I dread receiving cases involving children," he discloses to you.
Tears well up in your eyes, "I can't even imagine, but sir, why are you telling me this?"
"This job will inevitably strike close to home on some cases more than others. It's okay for you to feel overwhelmed by it all every once and a while," he assures you.
"You never lose it, though."
He sighs heavily, "Maybe I should have."
Shortly before you joined the BAU, Hotch's wife Haley left with their son Jack. You never ask questions or stick your nose where it doesn't belong. It isn't your place, and you can't blame him for not wanting to bring his family struggles to work. He deals with enough broken families on the job as it is. Mixing his own personal life into the field would only make it more challenging to prioritize. Despite all this, you cannot help but wonder what exactly led to his and his wife's separation. You hope that they can find their way back to each other. The crimes you investigate do not need to claim the Hotchner's as victims as well.
+++++
"I'll let you talk to Chrissy Wilkenson," Hotch directs you towards the kitchen. You wipe your sweaty palms against the fabric of your pants and make your way into the kitchen, Hotch following closely behind you.
"Mrs. Wilkenson," you say gently, "My name is Y/F/N. I have just a few questions about your husband. Where does Charlie usually go when he's stressed?"
"The barn," she stutters. You can tell she's anxious and afraid for the well-being of her family.
"Anywhere else, Chrissy?"
Hotch is called into the other room, and you continue questioning Chrissy. She's becoming overwhelmed, so you guide her to the dining room.
"I know this is difficult, Chrissy."
"Did the father of my child really do that to those poor women?" She cradles her baby bump.
Your heart breaks for her, and you choose to remain silent. Sometimes saying nothing speaks louder than words.
Footsteps bound throughout the house, and Hotch appears in the doorway, "The sheriff will stay here with Mrs. Wilkenson. We need you with us."
Standing up from your chair, you place your hand atop Chrissy's, "History doesn't have to repeat itself." It is almost as if she could tell you were reading her thoughts. The endless whispers that cloud her mind making her feel like she's left with only one choice, but there's always another option. That is all you are trying to remind her of.
+++++
As you and your team trek through the forest, you see a clearing.
"Hotch, this way," you beckon him to pursue your course.
Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, and you stop in your tracks. You make eye contact with Hotch and mirror each other's actions, dashing towards the opening in the trees. Your heart pounds in rhythm with your footsteps colliding against the ground. It is clear to you from your exchange with Chrissy at the house that the origin of the gunshot will shock everyone but yourself. As you reach the clearing and rush down the hill, your speculation is validated.
Chrissy Wilkenson is standing over the body of her husband, the unsub. A traumatized young man haunted by his father's past and plagued by the idea that children are trapped in the endless cycles created by their parents.
I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Jesus. Now is not the time for that.
The newly widowed woman claims self-defense, yet the cops handcuff her anyways. Inside, you feel conflicted while watching her get into the back of the squad car.
Hotch appears by your side but remains silent. Again, sometimes silence speaks louder than words. You bit your lip, attempting to hide the fact that it is trembling.
"What did you say to her as you were leaving the dining room?"
"I told her that history does not have to repeat itself. I wanted her to know that even when it feels like you are backed into a corner, there is always another way out. Sometimes people don't know where to look for their out thought," you quiver.
He lightly touches your arm and gives you a reassuring tilt of the head, "Just know that you did everything you could. We will never do this job perfectly. Doing the right thing usually costs more than it pays. You did your part.  I'm not a saint, and I am far from a hero, but I have integrity and honor, and I do this job to the best of my ability."
"If you can leave a case with a clear conscience," he continues, "you know you did the best you could. Any other thought process will eat away at you slowly but surely, and ultimately, it will result in the demise of your career and destruction of yourself."
+++++
After a seemingly neverending day, you all arrive back at Quantico.
"I could really go for a drink, guys. What do you say? Newbie's buying," you wave your wallet around frivolously.
"I could go for 5 drinks!" Prentiss exclaims.
"Count me in," Morgan winks at you. He never fails to make you blush.
Reid hesitates and you pout your bottom lip, "Please Reid! How could you not want a repeat of Dolly Parton night last month?"
Hotch comes down the stairs, "Dolly Parton night? Do I want to know?"
You and Derek snicker to each other as Spencer attempts to diffuse his own embarassment.
"9 to 5 is an iconic female anthem that certainly has a rather bewitching affect on a man when mixed with alcohol."
"You only drank Diet Coke that night," you roll your eyes at him.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Hotch forcing his way through the small group formed around the desks.
Making your way over to him, you invite him to join, "Want a beer?" You second guess yourself, but it seems as though his rather stern expression softens ever so slightly when he pivots on his heels to look at you.
"I would like that," he answers softly.
He immediately returns to his original path and hovers near the glass doors. You casually make your way over to him, joined by Dave and Emily. A man barges in through the glass doors announcing Aaron's name.
"Agent Hotchner?"
"Yes," the subject in question breaths out almost defeatedly.  
The yellow package he holds in his hands is all too familiar and instantly churns your stomach into knots. You gnaw at your bottom lip, drawing a metallic taste that causes you to cringe.
"What is it?" Emily speaks up.
There's no question as to what it is. Oh Hotch. I’m so sorry.
Hotch's eyes trace the package from corner to corner in disbelief, "Haley's filing for divorce. I've been served."
When he eventually takes his eyes off of the lettering, his eyes meet yours. They lock onto you and it is in that moment that you feel as though you have been given the key to unlock his soul. His eyes are so unusual at this moment; they are more vulnerable than you have ever seen. The stoic man is gone, and instead, it is the eyes of one who is in tremendous pain. You had mistaken his bloodshot eyes for physical fatigue on the plane, but now you see that it is emotional exhaustion as well.
If only you knew how badly I want to hug you and tell you that you won't be swallowed up by this darkness. There's a long road ahead, but you have so many people here who love you and are here to support you through this. You aren't alone. Trust me, I know.
In some way, you pray that he can read into your soul and see the pain you feel for him. Once more, your shared silence proves to speak for itself.  
At last, he breaks eye contact with you and finally releases the breath that you had been holding in. Dave grabs onto your arm, seeing the clear impact Hotch's news has on you, no doubt having also noticed Hotch's immediate response in looking at you.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can join you tonight," he excuses himself and escapes to the seclusion of his office.
Maybe history does have a way of repeating itself.
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fleckcmscott · 4 years
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Watch What Happens - Chapter 13
Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12
Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.
Chapter warning: Adult Situation, Swearing, Angst, Brief mention of past self-harm
Words: 2,501
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The train line to Arthur's apartment wasn't yet running when he left Y/N's place. He had to walk home, which he didn’t mind. The cold air helped clear his head as he went, smoking all the way. There weren't many people on the streets this early. A newspaper stand owner was readying his shop. A few homeless people were on steps, wrapped up and trying to keep warm. Some construction workers were walking by, carrying signs.
Arthur looked at every single one of them as he passed. Could they finally see him? Did they know what had happened? Was Gotham able to tell his life had been turned on its head in the past twenty-four hours?
He giggled lightly. I got laid. No. Even as that phrase came to him, it felt crude, wrong. He was ashamed he'd even thought of it. Almost a week ago, Gary had told him to be a gentleman - a gentleman would never say something like that. But he didn’t know how he was supposed to think about what had occurred. He speculated as to whether he'd merely fucked Y/N or made love to her. Slight panic filled him as he realized he needed it to be the latter.
As Arthur passed by, he stopped in front of the grocery where he'd first run into her. It wasn't open yet. But he wanted to relive the experience. His eyelids shut as he remembered the small talk she’d made, her stare, her quiet “night.” Those small gestures, which had seemed natural and easy for her, had started a pattern that captured him. And he didn't want to be let loose.
When he reached the foreboding stairs that led to his home, he sighed and surveyed them. Every time he trudged up them it was a choice. A choice to not give into the negative thoughts and anger that plagued him. This morning, thinking of Y/N, imagining she would be at his apartment waiting to greet him with a kiss, made ascending the concrete a little easier.
When he got home, he followed his usual routine of getting into his house clothes, putting his laundry in the hamper, and checking on Penny. Thankfully, she was still asleep. Before sitting down at the breakfast bar with his journal, he grabbed a cookie (one of the chocolate chip Y/N had brought over) and a short glass of milk. Once situated, he opened the notebook to what he had been writing at her apartment, pondering.
When he had been in his early twenties, he'd kissed a girl, once. She'd been a co-worker at one of his gigs. It had been an impulsive act and nothing ever came of it. But he'd held onto that memory for years, until he'd understood no woman would ever have an interest in him. He'd tried, and failed, to shield himself by not hoping.
Kissing Y/N was different. She said he made her happy, claimed he turned her on. She'd been unbelievably responsive to his touch. And the way she’d begged him to fill her... "Arthur...I need you inside me." Goosebumps broke out at his recollections. He was thankful for the guidance she’d given him. It had been enough for him to feel like a participant instead of the novice he was.
Later, the sensation of her throbbing against his mouth when she came, knowing he had done that to her, had been one of the only times he had ever felt powerful. They'd both gotten up off her couch a little shakily. She'd still looked blissful and somewhat dazed. He smiled as he remembered how her lips had pulled at him, then parted as she moaned. ("She was so noisie! I can never bring her over. Penny woud heer everything.") He still couldn’t fathom how she hadn't minded when his cock chose not to cooperate. And that she’d asked him to come over again - tonight!
She’d offered the use of her shower, and he’d gladly accepted. As he'd watched her pick out towels for him, standing there in her bathrobe and bare feet, he'd been unable to speak. She must have noticed, because she'd kissed his nose and asked if he was all right. He'd nodded.
He'd had to use her shampoo, resulting in his hair smelling like strawberries. Vaguely, he wondered if he smelled like a woman. But he decided he didn't care - the scent kept her closer. He'd wanted to shave, but she only had a wet razor hanging on the shower wall. Since his most recent release from Arkham, he'd used an electric shaver. The therapist and doctor there had advised him not to keep other types of razors in his apartment. Blinking, he’d turned away from it, deciding to shave at home.
After getting dressed and leaving the bathroom, Arthur had found Y/N in the kitchen. She'd put coffee on and two mugs were on the counter. It was a snapshot of domesticity he never thought he'd get to experience in his wretched life. They'd stood together in front of the stove while she made toast and burned scrambled eggs. He was proud of himself for having taken only five or so seconds to put his arm around her back at the waist. Then he’d tried to distract himself from wondering if it was all right by sipping his drink.
She’d leaned into him with her hip, looked up, and said, “I never noticed your sideburns before.” She’d rubbed at one gently, then moved her hand to his chin and pulled him to her for a quick peck. “They’re cute.” He hadn’t said anything in response to the sudden compliment, still suspicious of the idea that a woman, even Y/N, could find any part of him “cute.” Averted eyes and a slight, toothy grin had been all he’d managed.
When she’d served breakfast, he hadn't had the heart to tell her he wasn't hungry. He’d enjoyed the raspberry jam on his toast - he usually only bought grape, it being the cheapest option. And even though the eggs were terrible, he’d smothered them with ketchup and eaten them. She'd been talking the entire time, telling him about her upcoming day and asking about his. But he'd only half heard her. He was too busy trying to figure out how he was ever going to interact with her normally after all this.
His eyebrows pinched. Even before his first breakdown, connections had been impossible for him to make, and Arkham hadn’t exactly been a place to seek warmth. For so many years, he'd yearned for someone, to matter to that person and know what it was to love them. He was at a loss as to what to do now that he had it. If he had it.
Changing the context of how he thought of himself to include not only mentally ill loner but also potential romantic partner, would be a mindfuck. He wasn’t sure he was up to the task. And he knew he had nothing to offer besides his problems and his heart, whatever that was worth. He hoped it would be sufficient.
Holding his pen, he bit his lip. He wouldn't be able to take back the words once they were out. Carefully, writing as clearly as he could, he let the ink touch the paper. "I think I love Y/N. Shud I tell her? What if its to soon? I don't want her to be upset." Staring at what he'd written, Arthur let out a long breath and lit a cigarette. Then, smiling, he put his head down as his eyes welled up. He wiped at them hastily.
He had left Y/N’s apartment reluctantly. Even after her invitation, he felt as though stepping out her front door would wake him up from a dream he’d never return to. The solid feeling of her lips on his, her tongue teasing his mouth for entry when they'd kissed goodbye, helped assure him there'd be more. Part of him had wanted to tell her he loved her, like he'd just written in his notebook. It would have been nice to experience saying it to someone. But he'd forced himself to hold back. That was a vulnerability he couldn’t allow. Not yet. But he hoped she'd been able to see it in his eyes and feel it in how he'd touched her.
As he took a drag off his cigarette, he crossed out the word "think" and replaced it with "kno."
Arthur had come dangerously close to confessing everything to her. It would have been a relief to get it out the way. To have her end it if she decided he was too much of a mess to take on, which he assumed was likely. But he hadn't been able to go through with it. And the permission she'd given him to keep his secrets, even though she'd told him she wanted to know him, had been confusing. Now he wasn't sure how much she actually wanted to learn.
But she kept asking so many questions.
He didn't know what he was obligated to tell her. That one of the few times Penny had paid attention was when he'd been hitting his head against the shower wall? That she’d had him committed more than once? He wasn't upset with Penny for that - he was grateful she’d momentarily cared enough to stop him from hurting himself. But on many days he wondered why. Arthur Fleck was a meaningless speck. Born to be put upon and feel bad while trying to take care of his mother and deal with whatever other shit life decided to throw at him.
Taking a deep breath to quell his mind, his eyes shut. Sitting there all day, counting down the minutes until Y/N touched him again, wasn't going to help. There was vacuuming that needed to be done. The bathroom had to be cleaned. And he needed to start his day so he could go out and find a job.
He'd cut back on groceries, changing from seltzer to tap water, buying white instead of wheat bread, getting TV dinners that were marked down because they were close to expiring. But it was still difficult to maintain his meager savings. Maybe he could pick up a spare shift at Amusement Mile. It was the off season, but there had to be work to do.
He wrote another line in his journal before closing it: “Gotta work on more jokes. No time to waste."
After getting up from the breakfast bar, Arthur padded into the kitchen to start Penny's Farina porridge. Still pretty full from Y/N's delightfully awful cooking, he started making Penny an extra portion. He felt a twinge of remorse for having left her alone all night. He knew he was all she had. Until four weeks ago, she'd been all he'd had, too.
Once he was in the bedroom, he opened the window shade and sat in the chair next to her. He studied her face before reaching out, wondering if she would be proud of him if she knew what had happened. Then he peeled the blanket back and touched her hand. "Mom, come on,” he said gently. “It's time to wake up."  
Her eyelids started to flutter; she eventually focused on him. "Happy."
He gulped, concentrating on her face. Ask how I am. I finally have something good to say. I did my act! I'm in love! He was sure he looked as desperate as he felt. Please notice me…
It took her a few seconds to sit up. "Happy, I wrote a new letter. It's on the coffee table."
Sighing, he turned to look out the window. "Okay." After nodding to himself, he stood and helped her out of bed, lifting her light frame gently until she was stably on her feet.
As he guided her to the living room, she spoke. "You smell like perfume."
He smiled, the hurt in his chest softening a bit. "That's because I was with Y/N. I had a big date." A big overnight date, he thought with pride, then laughed as he blushed. He deposited Penny on her usual chair and flicked on the TV. On the way back to the kitchen, he grabbed the envelope. As he got out a bowl, he studied the letter. What on earth could his mother be constantly writing to Thomas Wayne about? He checked briefly to make sure she wasn't paying attention, then opened it, his back to the living room.
His reading wasn't the best, and it took him time to take in the words on the page. "Your son..." "Our son..." He reread those key phrases, thinking he must be mistaken. As he went further, his grip on the papers tightened. "Arthur is a good boy." His jaw clenched. "...how happy he is most of the time." "I love you forever, Penny Fleck."
Slowly, he folded the letter back together and stuffed it in its envelope. Despite the deep breath he took, he couldn't stop the confusion, anger, and hint of excitement from blooming in him. A scowl came across his face as he tried to control himself, failing already.
Arthur slammed his fist on the counter, knocking the bowl on it to the floor with a crash.
Penny called from the living room. "Happy, what happened? Did you hurt yourself again?"
"How come you never told me?" he yelled, going to the living room entrance.  
She stood from the chair, pointing at him. "Is that my letter? You have no right opening my mail!"
He slowly advanced on her. "How could you keep this from me?"
Penny ran into the bathroom, faster than he'd seen her move in years. "You're gonna kill me. You're gonna give me a heart attack!" she shrieked, slamming the door and locking it.
"I'll give you a-" he followed her and pounded on the door, then jiggled the handle.
"I'm not talking to you until you stop being angry!" she yelled.
Immediately, he withdrew, pacing back and forth. "Okay. Okay," he said meekly. "I'm not angry, Mom," he said calmly, shoulders tightening as he approached the bathroom again. "I'm not angry." Leaning in, he put his hand on the door. "Please. Mom. Is this real?"
There was a long pause before her muffled voice came through the wood. "He's an extraordinary man, Happy. A very powerful man." Arthur stared at the door in disbelief. "We were in love. He said it was best that we not be together because of appearances."
When he leaned his head against the door, he sighed. "And I could never tell anyone-," she continued, "-because. Well, I signed some papers." His eyes drifted shut. "And besides, you can imagine what people would say about Thomas and me. And what they'd say about you."
His answer came quietly, voice rough with emotion. "What would they say, mom?"
He heard her intake of breath before she answered. "That you're an unwanted bastard."
Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @clowndaddyfleck​ @sweet-nothings04​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @invisiblewispofwhimsey @let-the-stars-fall-in-the-abyss​
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zen3to5 · 4 years
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J/H 4-01: It’s A Wonderful Life
Well, Eric broke up with Donna, just as in the show, and Hyde went and got Jackie and Kelso back together...what does that mean for Season 4?
(We're doing things a little differently this time. Because "It's A Wonderful Life" has only one storyline, and because all my changes happen in the middle of the episode, I didn't write out the entire thing. You can imagine this version of 4-01 beginning just the same as it does in the show, with Eric in bed, through meeting the angel, cancelling out the kiss, and the first look at life without Eric and Donna's relationship in the basement. Imagine, then, that after the angel tells Eric "I'm gonna show you a lot of neat stuff like this," the scene cuts, and we move on to:)
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INT. HUB - DAY   A sunny and busy afternoon. ERIC and the ANGEL stand in front of the pinball machine. Right in front of them, ALTERNATE ERIC, clad in letter sweater, plays chess with a NERD, while THREE DORKS stand around them, watching.   ERIC: This can’t be that bad. I’m wearing a letter sweater.   ANGEL: Chess club. Loser.   Alt. Eric considers the board, then makes his move with a smug grin.   ALT. ERIC: Ah, checkmate.   The nerd and the dorks walk away, defeated, as Eric and the angel share a look.   ALTERNATE FEZ enters, in full marching band uniform, with a trumpet in hand. He crosses to Alt. Eric.   ALT. FEZ: Hey, I made the marching band. Oh, at last I will be accepted by the cool kids and not get beat up.   Alt. Eric nods encouragingly. Unfortunately, a JOCK and a HUNK appear, grab Fez by the arms, and haul him back to the door.   ALT. FEZ (cont’d): Ai, no! Not again, guys!   A SECOND JOCK holds the door open, and they all disappear with poor Fez.   The bathroom door swings open, and out step ALTERNATE HYDE and ALTERNATE DONNA, Alt. Hyde’s arm around Alt. Donna’s shoulders. Alt. Hyde has lost his sunglasses and wears a ratty jeans’ vest over his T-shirt. Alt. Donna wears a leather jacket. She has her shirt pulled up, showing a tattoo across her stomach - “Question Authority.”   Alt. Eric glances up at them briefly before bowing his head over the chess board. His head snaps to the door when ALTERNATE KELSO bursts in and makes a beeline for Eric’s table.   ALT. KELSO: Is your sister home?   ALT. ERIC: Well, yes, but -   ALT. KELSO: Great.   He throws himself across the room over to Alt. Hyde and Alt. Donna.   ALT. KELSO: (to Alt. Donna) I need you to keep Jackie busy for, like, a half-hour. She’s out back and I need to get over to Laurie.   ALT. DONNA: Again? Kelso, I am not a babysitter for your midget brat girlfriend.   Alt. Hyde jostles her, gives her a peck on the cheek before clapping Alt. Kelso on the shoulder with his free hand.   ALT. HYDE: Don’t worry, man. I’ve got you covered. We need wheels for the drive-in tonight, so we’ll have Jackie drive us there.   ALT. KELSO: Great.   ALT. HYDE: Then we’ll swipe the keys and ditch her.   All three of them laugh.   ALT. KELSO: All right! (to Hyde) You know, you’ve gotten so much cooler since you dropped out of school!   Grinning ear to ear, he runs out of the Hub, and Alt. Hyde and Alt. Donna begin making out while Alt. Eric steals glances.   Eric steps toward the smooching couple for a better look.   ERIC: No, wait. That’s – this is all wrong. Donna wouldn’t get a tattoo, she and Hyde wouldn’t help Kelso cheat on Jackie, and... well, Hyde might drop out, but I’m pretty sure that’s where Red’s “foot in ass” theories on parenting would go into practice.   ANGEL: It’s not Red’s problem.   ERIC: What do you mean?   ANGEL: Look at you.   He indicates Alt. Eric and Alt. Hyde – or rather, the space between them.   ANGEL (cont’d): Between Donna going with Hyde and you turning into – that...   He gestures dismissively at Alt. Eric, who’s now fingering the chess pieces.   ANGEL (cont’d): You and Hyde started to drift apart.   ERIC: Wait... you’re saying Hyde and I aren’t friends?   ANGEL: Not good enough friends that you’d take him in when his mom left. That’s why Hyde dropped out. And without your parents’ influence, he went wild, and it rubbed off on Donna.   As if to illustrate, Alt. Hyde’s hand drifts down to Alt. Donna’s butt. They make out across the room until they’re bent over the pinball machine. Not once do they notice Alt. Eric.   ANGEL (cont’d): And once they went wild, they didn’t care what Kelso did, and never developed the soft spot for Jackie that led Donna to be her friend and Hyde to look out for her.   Alt. Donna moans with delight and kicks out. Her sandal flies off her foot and beans Alt. Eric in the head, knocking him from his chair and sending the chess set flying.
BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - NIGHT   Eric sits on the deep freeze with the angel standing nearby. Alt. Eric, watches TV on the couch. On the other end of the couch is ALTERNATE JACKIE, wearing her street clothes from 1-21 (“Prom Night.”) She lets out a long, loud sigh. Alt. Eric slowly turns to look at her.   ALT. ERIC: You don’t like Soul Train?   ALT. JACKIE: It’s just... that powder blue suit on Don Cornelius reminded me of the prom.   ALT. ERIC: Oh, right. That thing no one asked us to.   His voice trails off as he turns back to the TV. Eric leans back in disgust.   ERIC: I sat out the prom with Jackie? Oh, let me guess – Hyde had a magical freakin’ night there before having sex with Donna in the motel room I was supposed to get.   ANGEL: No. Hyde didn’t go the prom. He’s at home right now too.   Eric sits up straighter, smiles.   ERIC: Oh.   The angel turns to him and grins.   ANGEL: Having sex with Donna.   Eric throws his hands up.   ERIC: OH!   The basement phone rings. Alt. Eric gingerly picks it up.   ALT. ERIC: Hello? Donna? ...Uh-huh... uh-huh... but are you sure... oh. Okay. Great! Thank you. See you soon.   He hangs up. With a nervous glance over at Alt. Jackie, he stands and stretches.   ALT. ERIC (cont’d): So... that was Donna. There’s a party over at Hyde’s for after prom.   Alt. Jackie looks up, eyes shining, and hops to her feet.   ALT. JACKIE: Great! Then what are we waiting for? Will Michael be there?   ALT. ERIC: Well, yes... but you can’t be. You’re not invited.   ALT. JACKIE: (beat) And you’re still going? You’re leaving me here alone?   She’s either about to cry or about to kill him. Alt. Eric looks all over the basement in a futile search for the right answer. Finally, he holds up a hand.   ALT. ERIC: Or – you know what we could do...   CUT TO:   INT. HYDE’S HOUSE – NIGHT   If the Hyde residence looked dirty when his mother was still at home, it’s an absolute wreck now. Alt. Jackie stands outside, looking in through the window with a furious expression. Alt. Eric, inside looking out, gives her an apologetic shrug and moves into the party.   It isn’t all that wild an affair; a couple of couples dancing and some unsavory-looking characters roaming around the halls. Alt. Hyde and Alt. Donna sway together in the middle of the room, holding each other tight. Eric and the angel stand behind Alt. Donna, who has a fresh tattoo on her right bicep.   ANGEL: Hmm... another tattoo... (reading) “Property of Hyde.” Classy.   Eric rolls his eyes as Alt. Eric tries to pass by the couple. They bump into him as they dance. Alt. Donna looks up first; it’s clear that she and Alt. Hyde are both drunk.   ALT. DONNA: (slurred) Eric! You made it. It’s so good to see you.   ALT. ERIC: You too. I’m surprised you were able to call – did call. And Hyde, man – it’s really good to see you again -   ALT. HYDE: (slurred) Yeah, yeah, that’s great, Forman. Keg’s in the kitchen.   He claps Alt. Eric on the back and shoves him toward the kitchen door. Alt. Eric bumps into Alt. Fez, clad in Elton John glasses and acid-wash jeans. He has a record in his hands. Alt. Eric straightens up and looks down at the record.   ALT. ERIC: Hey, Fez. Whatcha got there?   ALT. FEZ: The new Leo Sayer album.   From nowhere, the jocks and hunk from earlier swoop down on them. A jock punches Alt. Fez in the jaw, the other jock catches him and drags him into the kitchen, and the hunk does the same with Alt. Eric.   The angel gives Eric a light elbow to the ribs, but Eric just scoffs and looks around the room. Alt. Hyde and Alt. Donna are back to dancing, but another couple catches Eric’s eye – Alt. Kelso and PAM MACY, making out on the arm of the couch.   ALT. KELSO: I wrote you a love poem, Pam. It goes like this: “I love your rack I’d love to shack Up with you And do it too.”   PAM: Oh, Michael... that is so deep.   ALT. KELSO: Yeah. I kicked that poem’s ass!   He leans in for more kissing, and the two of them fall down across the couch. Eric instinctively inches away from them.   ERIC: Kelso and Pam Macy... because Kelso and Jackie never got back together on prom night.   ANGEL: You see the domino effect? You never kiss Donna, Hyde doesn’t take Jackie to prom, she never makes up with Kelso. Now she’s out in the cold, and you and Fez are having your underwear stretched over your heads.   ERIC: I know. It’s like my relationship with Donna touched everyone’s lives for the better. And I was just gonna throw that a –   He blows a long raspberry in the angel’s face. The angel winces, wipes away the spittle.   ANGEL: Okay. You’re unpleasant.   ERIC: Just give it up. I don’t care. This still isn’t as bad as having Donna and losing her.   ANGEL: Oh, no? Well, it gets a lot worse. Come on, we’re going into the future. That’s right – the ‘80s!   Heard only by the angel and a stunned Eric, “Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats begins to play.   MEN WITHOUT HATS (aud. only): We can dance if we want to We can leave your friends behind ‘Cause your friends don’t dance And if they don’t dance Well, they’re -   The music cuts out, and Eric looks to the angel.   ERIC: Man, what the hell was that?   ANGEL: Oh, you’ll find out.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY   The 1980s. They’ve had no impact on the Forman’s decorating sense, but some impact on Alt. Eric: he actually has sideburns now. He wears the same Price Mart manager’s suit his father used to wear as he eats a bowl of cereal at the kitchen island.   Behind him stand Eric and the angel. They watch as ALTERNATE KITTY, her hair now worn down and a brighter blonde, enters from the living room. She looks less than thrilled to see her son eating at the island.   ANGEL: Welcome to 1983, Eric.   ERIC: Wait... I still work at Price Mart? I still live here?   The angel nods. Eric moans, sits down at the kitchen table.   ERIC (cont’d): Good God, I wish I could just wake up.   ANGEL: Oh, you may never wake up. This could be a coma dream.   Eric drops his head onto the table.   Alt. Eric smiles up at Alt. Kitty. She attempts to smile back and goes immediately for a wine glass in the cupboard.   ALT. KITTY: Eric, honey, college registrations are going to be done soon. Have you thought at all about finally applying and enrolling - and moving away - to UW, or Chicago, or... or Africa?   Eric’s head snaps up.   ERIC: I haven’t even gone to college?   The angel throws his head back and laughs.   Alt. Eric stands, moves around the island to Alt. Kitty.   ALT. ERIC: No, but I have thought about putting in for another promotion at Price Mart so I can stay at home with my mother, who I just couldn’t stand to be away from.   He stands, hugs Alt. Kitty.   ALT. KITTY: Oh, God.   The kitchen door swings open, and in come ALTERNATE RED and Alt. Jackie. Alt. Red looks the same as always; Alt. Jackie has gained a giant ‘80s hairdo and a hell of a lot of mascara.   ALT. RED: (to Alt. Eric) Are you still here? For God’s sake, Eric! I told you to go pick up the Toyota from the shop over an hour ago!   ALT. JACKIE: And what about my dry cleaning? I need my green dress for the Price Mart ball. And you’d better remember those dance classes, or so help me, my foot is going right up your ass!   Alt. Red nods approvingly. Alt. Eric bows his head, cowed. Our Eric leaps to his feet and grabs the angel by the shoulders.   ERIC: No! Oh, dear sweet Jesus, please tell me, no! I cannot be married to Jackie Burkhart!   The angel shrugs himself free.   ANGEL: Relax, you’re not married. Neither of you are. You never found anyone. But Jackie needed someone to yell at and you’re always around, so she’s always over. It’s a little like marriage, but... you know, without any love or sex.   ERIC: (beat) You know, that actually makes it better.   Alt. Eric passes meekly by them, and they follow him out to:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - DAY   The hedges may be a bit thicker, but otherwise, 1983’s passed the driveway by. The Vista Cruiser still sits in the garage. Alt. Eric pulls its keys from his jacket pocket as a motorcycle pulls into the driveway.   On it is Alt. Hyde and Alt. Donna. Alt. Hyde has gone full-on biker: a giant beard, leather jacket, chaps, and bandana. Alt. Donna has dreadlocks in her hair, a loose white dress, and a pregnant belly, along with several more tattoos. Her arms are wrapped tight around Alt. Hyde’s chest. He puts his left hand over hers, displaying their matching wedding bands.   ALT. DONNA: Eric?   ALT. ERIC: Donna? Is that you? And – and Hyde? Where have you two been? It’s been forever.   ALT. HYDE: Layin’ low ‘til the heat was off that jewelry store bust.   ALT. DONNA: Well, we were just down at the courthouse, but not for that.   Beaming, she wiggles her ring finger.   ALT. HYDE: Congratulate us, Forman – we just tied the knot.   ALT. ERIC: (beat) Oh... well, that is just – super!   He puts on his best fake grin. Eric and the angel share a pitying look.   Alt. Jackie stomps out from the kitchen and slaps Alt. Eric on the arm.   ALT. JACKIE: Eric! You can give money to hobos later! Now go, dry cleaning, now!   Alt. Donna and Alt. Hyde laugh.   ALT. HYDE: Oh, Forman, don’t tell me you’re still under the Man’s bitchiest boot heel.   He and Alt. Donna laugh again as Alt. Jackie glowers.   Alt. Kelso sneaks around from the back of the house. He has perfectly coiffed hair and a slick gray suit. His eyes are fixed on the kitchen door; he doesn’t notice the others, but they see him.   ALT. ERIC: Kelso?   He spins around, sees the gang.   ALT. ERIC (cont’d): What are you doing here?   Alt. Kelso stands up straight, flashes a huge grin.   ALT. KELSO: (anchor voice) This just in: your sister’s in town, and I never miss a home visit by Laurie Forman! (sees Jackie, drops voice) Oh. Hello, Jackie.   ALT. JACKIE: Hello, moron.   Alt. Kelso recoils, scoffs.   ALT. KELSO: Well, for your information, this moron is the number one anchorman of Cedar Rapids, whereas last I heard, you got thrown out of UW for making the cheerleading coach cry and had to settle for a job as a stewardess!   They stare each other down as the last member of this sad group appears: Alt. Fez slowly walks up the driveway. He’s got quite the look going on: Mike Score’s haircut, bright red pants, black leather vest and boots, an electronic keyboard tucked under his arm, and egg yolks everywhere.   ALT. FEZ: I was hired to play the national anthem at the high school football game. (beat) I don’t think they liked it.   The six of them all look around, swaying on their feet. The angel turns to Eric, who does his best to look unaffected.   ALT. ERIC: Boy, I sure am glad this isn’t uncomfortable.   Alt. Hyde reaches into his vest and pulls out a brown paper bag.   ALT. HYDE: I think I know how to take care of that.   Everyone realizes what he has in the bag; they all smile and nod.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY   THE CIRCLE. Alt. Eric hacks and sputters, while Alt. Jackie looks on disapprovingly next to him.   ALT. ERIC: (between coughs) You were right, Hyde. This – this is so much more comfortable...   Pan to Alt. Kelso.   ALT. KELSO: (anchor voice) We have breaking news: I’m toasted. (drops voice) Man, they pay me gobs of money to talk like that.   Pan to Alt. Hyde, his arm around Alt. Donna.   ALT. HYDE: (to Alt. Fez) Fez, do something with your hair, man. It’s making me paranoid.   Pan to Alt. Fez.   ALT. FEZ: Guys, I have discovered a band that will change music forever.   He starts up his electric keyboard and begins to sing.   ALT. FEZ (cont’d): And I ran I ran so far away I just ran I ran all night and day...   Pan to the angel. He takes a big inhale and cracks up.   ANGEL: You know, there are some things about Earth I really miss!   CUT TO:   INT. EVENT CENTER - NIGHT   A generic white room for renting out, a few round seating tables and a buffet line set up. A large green sign welcomes the class of 1978.   Eric and the angel enter through the veranda doors.   ANGEL: Okay, welcome to your ten-year high school reunion.   They survey the party. It isn’t much of one; a few scattered attendees and Alt. Fez as the entertainment, dancing to prerecorded music in yet another disastrous ‘80s outfit of pinstriped white suit and aqua T-shirt.   Alt. Eric, in a conservative suit, approaches the buffet table. A brown smear covers his upper lip.   ERIC: All right! I finally grew a moustache!   ANGEL: Actually, it’s chocolate cake.   Just to prove it, Alt. Eric wipes it away with a napkin.   Alt. Kelso enters from the hall, beer in hand. His hair is still coiffed, but he’s gained a large beer gut. Pam Macy, with the frizziest of ‘80s hair and a pregnant belly, is with him.   ERIC: What happened to Kelso?   ANGEL: Oh, he got fired. Yeah, he thought the news would be funnier drunk. Now he works for you, selling waterbeds.   ERIC: (laughs) What a loser. (beat) Wait, I sell waterbeds?   ANGEL: That’s right.   Alt. Kelso and Pam make their way to the buffet table. Alt. Eric sees them, frowns.   ALT. ERIC: Kelso, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to lock up the store tonight.   ALT. KELSO: But it’s our reunion, man! I’ll lock it up tomorrow, I promise. Unless your sister’s flight gets canceled, then I’m sneaking over.   Alt. Eric throws his hands up and Pam swats Alt. Kelso on the arm.   Alt. Jackie, who has been walking the floor throughout the scene, comes up behind Alt. Kelso. She wears a gray business suit with long skirt, straight hair pulled into a tight bun, tortoiseshell glasses, a clipboard and pencil in one hand and a whistle around her neck.   She raises the whistle and blows. Alt. Kelso, Alt. Eric, and Pam all jump.   ALT. KELSO (cont’d): Damn, Jackie! That’s even more annoying than your voice!   Alt. Jackie glares at him and starts furiously scribbling on her clipboard.   ALT. JACKIE: “Bringing alcohol to a school-sponsored function...”   ALT. KELSO: What? But Jackie -   ALT. JACKIE: “Not addressing the vice principal as ‘Miss Burkhart...’” “Neglecting the orders of your supervisor...”   ALT. ERIC: Thank you, Jackie, but -   ALT. JACKIE: Shut up, Eric! (looks Pam over) “Bringing your skank...”   Pam gives an offended gasp, and Alt. Kelso puffs out what passes for his chest.   ALT. KELSO: She is my wife! And we’re not actually in school, Miss Burkhart, so you’ve got no business telling us what’s -   ALT. JACKIE: “Being an idiot...”   She jabs the clipboard and looks up, a nasty smirk on her face.   ALT. JACKIE (cont’d): Know what that adds up to? YOU’RE OUT, MICHAEL!   She blows her whistle and points to the hall. When Alt. Kelso and Pam don’t immediately move, she blows again and advances, chasing them out.   Alt. Eric makes his way over to Alt. Fez’s stage. He’s busy singing “Everybody Have Fun Tonight” by Wang Chung.   ALT. FEZ: Rip it up Move down Rip it up Move it down to the ground Rip it up Cool down Rip it up And get the body feeling right   As Alt. Eric watches, Alt. Donna enters from the hall and takes a spot on the floor behind him. She’s come a long way from her wedding; she now has a short haircut and a conservative dress, very much a housewife look.   ALT. FEZ (cont’d): Everybody have fun tonight Everybody have fun Everybody Wang Chung tonight Everybody have fun Everybody have fun!   The crowd, such as it is, applauds. Alt. Eric glances behind and sees Alt. Donna. He straightens himself up and moves to her.   ALT. ERIC: Oh, hey, hi! Hey, Donna! It’s Eric Forman from, um, Point Place High School.   ALT. DONNA: Yeah, Eric. I know. It’s our reunion.   ALT. ERIC: Right, good one. So, uh, how’re you doing?   ALT. DONNA: Um... pretty lousy, until I saw how fat Kelso got. Made the drive from Joliet worth it.   ALT. ERIC: Oh, right, I heard you guys moved. How’s Hyde?   ALT. DONNA: Hyde’s good. The kids are good. (beat) He’s gone a lot. Prison, whatever. (beat) So, Eric, uh, how... how are you?   ALT. ERIC: I’m, uh, great. I’m the number three waterbed dealer in Wisconsin, so... (beat) Donna, you look great.   ALT. DONNA: Oh, thanks. (beat) You know, don’t laugh, but... (beat) Actually, never mind.   ALT. ERIC: No, no. What?   ALT. DONNA: I had a crush on you in high school.   ALT. ERIC: I had a crush on you too.   ALT. DONNA: You know, I almost kissed you once.   ALT. ERIC: What might have been, huh? (beat) So, are you still writing?   ALT. DONNA: Oh, God. Well... I mean, permission slips. Three kids, you know?   ALT. ERIC: Right. Well, you should start again. ‘Cause, you know, you were really good at it.   ALT. DONNA: Ah, well, it’s too late for that. It’s too late for a lot of...   She trails off. Alt. Eric can’t meet her eyes.   ALT. DONNA (cont’d): Hey, so, I’ll see you, Eric.   ALT. ERIC: Yeah, I’ll see you, Donna.   ALT. DONNA: ‘Kay.   ALT. ERIC: Okay.   She walks away. Alt. Eric bows his head.   Eric and the angel slowly approach, the angel gesturing to the scene they just watched.   ANGEL: Huh? Huh? Start the waterworks.   He pulls a handkerchief from his suit and offers it to Eric, but Eric just shrugs.   ERIC: Sorry.   ANGEL: Come on. You’ve gotta feel something.   ERIC: Yeah, envy. He never had to feel the pain of losing her.   Alt. Eric’s head snaps up. He crosses to them.   ALT. ERIC: Oh, wait a minute. You actually had a relationship with Donna?   ERIC: (to angel) Wait, I thought you said he couldn’t hear me.   ANGEL: I’m loose with the rules. So sue me.   ALT. ERIC: No, seriously, you had Donna?   ERIC: Look, we broke up. You’re much better off.   ALT. ERIC: Says you! Look at me – I’m 28 years old! The closest thing I’ve had to sex is whenever Jackie goes to kick me in my shins and ends up catching me in the nads!   ERIC: Idiot! You’re sad you were never with Donna? Well, you got off light, man! I had her and I lost her, and believe me, you don’t want to know how bad that hurts!   He storms off. The angel turns to Alt. Eric.   ALT. ERIC: So... you’re an angel, right?   ANGEL: Why, yes. Yes I am.   ALT. ANGEL: Could you, like... could you do anything to help me?   ANGEL: Listen closely – no.
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And from here, the episode wraps up just as you know it, with the same credits scene of Fez singing. 
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