Tell It To My Heart
Hey there! Though I've attempted to do a 90210 fic, I've never done a BH 90210 fic, which I think is a bit odd. So I've decided to do a two-part Brelly (Brandon/Kelly) fic for Valentine's. I'm such a huge fan of theirs. It broke my heart when they didn't get married. For real. :P I don't know what the writers were thinking. I have no problem with Dylan/Kelly during the high school years, but I really wish they permanently called it quits during the later years. Plus, Dylan/Brenda was amazing. :D
Anyways, this fic takes place during that fated weekend retreat, when Brandon's on the task force and decides to ask Dylan and Kelly if he can "borrow" Kelly so she can be his fake girlfriend. While the writers did a wonderful job with this storyline, I'm going to try to go into more depth about what each of them was feeling. The chapters are going to be half Brandon and half Kelly POVs. It's mostly them, with some minor appeareances by everyone else, including Josh Richland and Clare Arnold. The first part takes place the night of the spring dance and the second part on the drive home. Best wishes, Nikki!
Happy Valentine's Day!
I feel the night explode when we're together.
Emotion overload in the heat of pleasure.
Take me I'm yours into your arms.
Never let me go.
Tonight I really need to know.
Tell it to my heart.
Tell me I'm the only one.
Is this really love or just a game?
Tell it to my heart.
I can feel my body rock every time you call my name.
The passion's so complete. It's neverending.
As long as I receive, the message you're sending.
Body to body, soul to soul
Always feel you near.
So say the words I long to hear.
Tell it to my heart.
Tell me I'm the only one.
Is this really love or just a game?
Tell it to my heart.
I can feel my body rock every time you call my name.
Love, love on the run, breaking us down,
Though we keep holding on.
I don't want to lose, no I can't let you go.
Tell it to my heart.
Tell me I'm the only one.
Is this really love or just a game?
Tell it to my heart.
I can feel my body rock every time you call my name.
Tell it to my heart. Tell me from the start. Tell it to my heart.
Tell it to my heart. Tell me from the start. Tell it to my heart.
Never make it stop. Oh, take it to the heart.
Tell it to my heart...
Tell It To My Heart is the property of Taylor Dayne.
Surrounded by a turkey cut-out in overalls, tied up squares of hay, and furiously played fiddles, Brandon Walsh never felt more Midwestern. Who actually does this? Sure, when he pictures square dances, he sees tall hats, root beer floats, and kicked up heels, but being in the midst of it all is like stepping into another dimension, a dimension where he has to dance. He moved his feet where he was supposed to, listening to the called out instructions and the rhythm of shoes pounding the wooden floor. Still, it was no match for his skates crossing the ice of lakes in Minnesota or skiing down a snowy hill. Luckily, tonight, he doesn't have to dance alone.
Kelly Taylor's blonde ponytail bounces on her back and shifts across her neck as Josh Richland leads her across the room. Their promenade is going pretty fast so he knows he has to speed up to catch them. Nobody, especially Kelly, deserves this torture. As they come forward, he views Josh beaming and Kelly wincing.
"Getting in an extra dosey do, Richland?" calls Brandon, edging his way in between them as the entire floor veers right.
"She was tired of having someone stomp on her feet, Walsh," returns Josh.
"At least Brandon isn't cutting off my circulation," says Kelly, managing to unfurl Josh's grip on her waist.
"Oh....sorry," says Josh, backing away.
"Thanks," says Kelly.
"I'll just let you two.... 'lovebirds' enjoy the rest of the night," says Josh in a mocking tone.
"For us to enjoy it, you'd have to leave," provides Brandon.
He guides a smirking Kelly to a corner. This may be a guise, with Kelly acting as his cover so he can secretly be with Lucinda, but he's not ready to have it be announced on the front page of the Condor so the Chancellor can read it. He's so glad he's not working on the paper with scum like Richland. He'd rather be covering pee-wee hockey for some no name league in a Duluth daily for the rest of his life. In any case, it's not like Lucinda cared that Kelly was his pretend girlfriend. She hardly lifted her eyes from her book on Guatemalan architecture when Brandon finally left her house. It was becoming more and more of a pain to find time in his schedule to sneak off to her house, too. What with the Task Force, the writing of the proposal, and his own studies, he was tired by the time he got over there. They weren't even really talking anymore. It was all physical, which she liked. He misses the other half of a relationship. Well, a healthy relationship, anyway. Every couple hits a rough patch, though.
"I didn't think it was possible, but he's more annoying when he's in your face," groans Kelly.
"You don't have to tell me twice," agrees Brandon.
"Well, I will tell you that you more than held your own when we were dancing," compliments Kelly.
"Look who's talking," says Brandon, then doing a Texan accent. "Why, Miss Kelly Taylor, I didn't know you knew how to allemande left."
"I can't spell allemande," laughs Kelly. "No, I just did what the other girls did."
"All that counts is that you do it well," affirms Brandon.
Kelly is definitely playing the part of his girlfriend well. It called for double the affection-- hand holding, pats on his knees, exchanging soft, subtle smiles. Having had quite a few girlfriends, he almost believes she is one of them sometimes. She let him walk arm in arm with her, or made sure to sit next to him during the retreat seminars, or came when she called to him. Then, a couple minutes would go by and the fuzzy face of Dylan McKay would form in his mind because Kelly was on loan from him. He hates to phrase it like that, as if Kelly were an object, but it was the running joke with the three of them. It essentially meant he'd have to return her safe and sound to Dylan. That he can do, with no problem. There shouldn't be a problem, right? They're close, as close as three friends can be.
"Hungry?" asks Kelly, nodding to the table.
"Starving," answers Brandon as he puts an arm around her shoulders.
She doesn't shirk back from his touch when they approach the picnic tables to the right of the room. Cups and plates were already in their places, helpings of barbecue chicken, ribs, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, rice pilaf, fish, and rolls on the tables. Brandon pats his stomach, makes a show of it. Kelly hits him softly in the gut.
"I'm one hundred percent sure Jim and Cindy taught you manners," murmurs Kelly.
"You should see me during Fourth of July picnics," says Brandon.
"I have," says Kelly, wrinkling her nose. "Which is why I know you're going straight for the corn on the cob."
He stalls his hand as he reaches for the platter with the corn. Kelly nods knowingly.
"Great intuition," remarks Brandon. "I'm a creature of habit, I must confess. You probably know Dylan's eating habits backwards and forwards too."
"No, Dylan's kind of...unpredictable," says Kelly, looking down and fidgeting with her skirt.
Brandon reaches for her glass and pours her some water.
"Which isn't always the best thing," sighs Kelly.
"Must keep the romance alive," offers Brandon politely.
"Yeah...that's it," murmurs Kelly, accepting the water.
There's a trace of sadness in her words, although perhaps he's searching for a trace of anything. He'd been noticing a bit of drifting for the two of them. Kelly seems more committed to her studies and Dylan was on an individual path he didn't want any of them to join him on, which Brandon understood on some level. People their age either stuck by their close high school friends or wanted to try new things and meet new people. For him, it's been a little of both. He likes interacting with others in different types of settings, yet he doesn't mind living at home with his parents. None of his friends had a problem with his living arrangements, and he came and went whenever he pleased. Plus, if those friends included Kelly, why trouble the waters? He is, like he said, a creature of habit. He wants certain people around. Brandon accepts the bowl of rolls Kelly hands him.
"What was your favorite seminar today?" asks Brandon, trying to change topics.
"Oh, they were all pretty interesting," replies Kelly. "I liked the one on starting education earlier for children. Like Erin, she's incredibly bright and she hasn't entered pre-school yet. We're discussing child psychology in one of my classes actually."
"Really?" says Brandon.
"Eh, you're not interested," waves off Kelly.
"I happen to be interested in whatever you're interested in," assures Brandon. "Why else would I let you get a word in edgewise with the Chancellor?"
They glance over at the Chancellor, taking a Polaroid with the cartoon turkey, Clare lowering her head in shame. Brandon and Kelly laugh.
"This'll be a trip we never forget," says Brandon as he takes a sip of water.
"I can say that with absolute certainty," says Kelly, raising her glass.
They clink cups and are suddenly interrupted by a huge sigh and Clare dropping into the chair next to Brandon's. Judging by Clare groping him during the dancing, he's thinking her placement is more than intentional. He'd steered clear of her for most of the day but Clare clearly made her presence known in these nighttimore hours.
"My dad's insane," says Clare.
"All dads have their cheesy moments," comforts Brandon.
"Moms, too," adds Kelly.
"Yeah, but theirs won't follow their kids to college," laments Clare. "The same college where their dad is the big cheese."
Wait, that statement meant....no. Brandon widens his eyes.
"You're going to California University?" asks Brandon.
"Depends," says Clare, eyeing him up and down.
Kelly clears her throat, but not without a smile. Brandon briefly elbows her.
"I hear there are amazing schools out East," offers Brandon. "And my sister Brenda...I mean, she ended up transferring, but she had great things to say about..."
"Relax, Brandon," says Clare. "You always look...so tense."
Clare sets her fork on her plate and begins to massage Brandon's shoulder. Her red nails glint under the lights of the cabin. Brandon rubs his forehead. It almost seems too soap opera-ish to be true. The underage, Chancellor's daughter likes the guy the Chancellor most likes?
Kelly rises resolutely. "I'm beat. Need someone to walk me to my room."
"Maybe Josh....," begins Clare.
"I was hoping for someone more chivalrous," says Kelly, grinning at Clare. "Brandon?"
"You guys haven't eaten..." says Clare.
"Grab a plate and go?" suggests Brandon.
"Right," says Kelly quickly. "See ya, roommate."
"Bye," sighs Clare.
They load their plates with enough room, wrapping them in aluminum foil, and Brandon tells Kelly he's getting them some napkins. Chancellor Arnold and a couple of his associates stand by the musician's stage where the desk with the napkins is located.
"Are you and Kelly having a good time, Brandon?" questions Chancellor Arnold.
"A wonderful time, sir," guarantees Brandon.
"Maybe next retreat, I could give your girlfriend a twirl around the floor," jokes Chancellor Arnold.
Brandon's eyes stray to Kelly, smiling at him from the exit.
He grins. "I think she'd like that, sir."
II.
She suggested a walk. He immediately said yes. They set their food in her cabin and started off into the night. In the dark, you can see the golden marigolds swaying in the air, hear the waterfall trickling over the stones, and smell only the scents that come from the woods. Kelly recalls when their whole group went camping-- David, Donna, Andrea, Steve, Dylan, Brenda, her and Brandon. They had fun after all the stress, and she didn't have mixed feelings, which she has now. Everything was simple then.
Most of the complex feelings, she should have a name for. She thinks her knowledge of psychology should come in handy. Analyze the situation. She's known Brandon for over three years. Her best friend is his sister. Her boyfriend is Brandon's best friend. She and Brandon are friends. It's not that hard to list the reasons why she should feel guilty, but it's easy to be with him. Their conversations are sweet and surprising. He does nice things for her without her asking. He routinely asks if she's comfortable doing this, or anything. This is what it's always been like with him. So why, on this trip, are things different? Why, when he touches her, do her synapses go racing? The reason is not in her textbook.
"How do you think Rocky is?" asks Kelly, their feet crunching the twigs on the dirt path.
Donna, Jim, and Cindy were discussing Rocky before they left for the retreat. The stray dog wasn't the only topic of discussion, however. Brandon's parents weren't coy about their interest in why she was accompanying their son to events lately. She did her best to make it sound light-hearted. Her heart is heavy as a leaf sails past her ear.
"Knowing Bren, they've taken him to a first-rate vet," guesses Brandon.
"You Walshes have big hearts," says Kelly, which she has no trouble saying since it's the truth.
"Oh, yeah," kids Brandon. "We have a lot of love to give."
"I'm serious," insists Kelly. "You guys have made me and others feel right at home."
"You're practically family," says Brandon.
"Hence, the sister comment," sighs Kelly.
As much as she's joking about it, that comment still really stung. It stings more today than it did months ago, mostly because she's spent more time with him and didn't want to be another Brenda. Maybe that night was her fault. She came on too strong. All she truly remembers is being in her room, in her black dress with the white ruffles, convincing herself that she would stun Brandon Walsh as soon as he saw her. Instead, the Spring Dance was a bunch of awkwardness, with the top embarrassing moment being when Brandon said that he couldn't be with her because she was like a sister. Ugh, talk about the guy you couldn't get. She shoved the dress in the back of her closet and shoved any future for them into the far side of her memories. Kelly does wonder if their recent time together, during this first year of college, would lead him to answer that question in a different way.
"You reminded me of another thing I said," points out Brandon.
He stalls her, preventing her from walking. She turns to him and meets his blue eyes, his hair rustling a tad. Her own blue eyes fall to his mouth.
"I said that if we were perfect strangers, I'd be in love with you," reminds Brandon.
"Mmmm, yes, and it made you smile," says Kelly.
Brandon steps closer and her heart beats boldly under her blouse. She's afraid he might hear it. Kelly pretends to stare at an oak tree beyond him.
"I guess the jig's up tomorrow," says Brandon.
"The...the jig?" stammers Kelly.
"Us being...an us," explains Brandon. "There aren't any more Task Force commitments where we would have to pretend that we're committed."
"Oh," realizes Kelly aloud.
Yes, he'd go back to being with Lucinda in secret, and she'd go back to being with Dylan. Dylan would be distant, argumentative, and retreat into himself. Perhaps she was pushing Dylan funding Lucinda's film for their benefit moreso than hers. Then, they'd have at least one thing in common, supporting the project. Then again, Dylan could be so stubborn sometimes. She could see him turning Lucinda down flat. Brandon....he obviously didn't turn her down flat. Honestly, she had a hard time picturing them together. While they're both intelligent, more intelligent than her she believes, Lucinda was more unbound and new-age. With his upbringing, Brandon came across more traditional and honorable. It was part of the attraction.
No, there can't be an attraction. Kelly takes a deep breath and releases it. This is fake. This is all so fake. Brandon has someone and he's happy, or else he wouldn't try to save it by having her masquerade as his girlfriend. Heck, he was even calling her his girlfriend in front of that sneak Josh Richland. This is all some puffed up rouse to keep everyone quiet. Will her emotions remain quiet? They're strong and growing thicker, far more fuller than she expected.
They no longer stare at each other. Kelly awkwardly plays with the sleeve of her jacket.
"I'll miss teasing you the most," confesses Kelly.
"You were pretty good at it," chuckles Brandon.
"What will you miss about me the most?" asks Kelly. "Your faux girlfriend, that is?"
"That smile," replies Brandon. "Pretending it was only for me."
In most cases, those smiles were for him. Kelly shakes her head.
"I don't lie with my smiles," says Kelly.
"That's what I was hoping," says Brandon.
An owl hoots in the distance and they both stare in that direction.
"I sorta wish tomorrow wasn't coming," sighs Kelly, staring at a twig on the floor.
"Kel," says Brandon, putting an arm on her waist.
She likes it there. His fingers are gentle and his palm is smooth. Her throat grows dry.
"Brandon, I'm feeling things I'm not allowed to be feeling," whispers Kelly.
"I didn't know there were rules for feelings," points out Brandon, lifting her chin with his other hand.
"I also sorta hated Clare touching you," says Kelly, blushing.
"I wasn't a fan of it, either," says Brandon.
He smiles and strokes her waist tenderly. The smell of the marigolds fills her nose, like faint perfume. Water trickles and rushes across the stones, matching the loud cacophony of her beating heart. She doesn't want to leave this retreat, this spot.
"I have a boyfriend," breathes Kelly. "You have a girlfriend. And..."
"Whatever is going on, Kelly, would follow us right back to Beverly Hills," insists Brandon.
"Not if we don't act," whispers Kelly.
Brandon presses his palms against her cheeks. They feel good there. He's forcing her to look at him, confront whatever will follow them past the woods. She instinctively closes her eyes. This is too hard. This is what she wants.
"Would kissing you be acting?" whispers Brandon.
"Yes," replies Kelly, her eyes fluttering open.
"I'm not sure I can't," says Brandon. "If I did...it'd be real."
Kelly places her hands on either side of his jacket. His heart is drumming underneath like hers. She's not alone.
"You can," whispers Kelly.
Brandon nods and presses his lips against hers. Their lips move to match the speed of the waterfall, steady as each flowing stream. They shift their heads until the kiss is deeper and urgent. Kelly lets her body rest against his. His embrace is a warm blanket she can sink into, never desiring to get out of. He holds her in a careful clutch and her knees begin to buckle. This is more real than she's ready for. She delicately pushes him away and rubs her lips.
"Kelly," says Brandon. "I'm...sorry."
"Why'd it have to be so wonderful?" asks Kelly, more to herself.
"So, you...you felt it, too?" stammers Brandon.
"I'm...I'm not prepared to...I don't know what to say," sighs Kelly. "Or do."
Brandon stuffs his hands in his pockets. His eyes shine as much as the moonlight. Kelly hates that she notices it. She's gotta go, be away from him for a bit.
"Maybe I'll walk the rest of the way," says Kelly, going past him. "I'll walk myself."
"You sure?" calls Brandon from behind.
She looks back at him. There he is, Brandon Walsh, her friend. Still, the way his gaze searches her, and how he slumps his shoulders, and how he grins shyly, is new and more than friendly. He's more mysterious. She may not know him half as well as she thinks.
"I'm sure," replies Kelly.
"Good night, Kelly," says Brandon.
"Good night, Brandon," returns Kelly.
The cabin is a four minute hike and Kelly considers what happened in the woods the whole walk. Should she tell Dylan? How do you tell him something like that? Would Brandon tell Lucinda? The final question is the most odd, but nearly breaks her heart in half. When it's time to let him go, and the charade is over, will she be able to do it? Kelly considers the answer as she unlocks the cabin door, and hugs herself in the dark.