Author's note: It's a darn, crying shame that I'm so close to the end in posting this. It was fun to write. Touched all the right emotions with me. I'm also quite sure that I fudged up some of the pagan rituals...just consider it my way of taking poetic license.

Chapter IV

It was five in the evening when Brenda went downstairs to place a long distance call. She and Dylan didn't do much today since it was practically freezing and they'd gotten up at almost noon.

She whispered a thank you to the hotel clerk who handed her the calling card and proceeded to dial the number. It wasn't until after she dialed the number did she realize how early it probably was in Beverly Hills. Still, being a Saturday, she was sure her brother was awake, even if it was only nine in the morning.

He picked up on the third ring, his voice sounding full of sleep. "Hello?"

"Hello, brother," Brenda said cheerily, mostly because she knew it would get on his nerves. She heard some rustling and a muffled voice then the door closing. He must have still been in bed.

"Hey, Bren," Brandon greeted her properly this time, his voice sounding more excited than previously before. "How's Dublin?"

"It's beautiful. Unfortunately, Dylan and I decided to come when they're having a freak winter and it's actually cold." She couldn't explain the warmth that went through her at her brother's laugh. She really missed him. "How's Andrea? I hope I didn't wake her."

"Nah, she was awake. She's good. Doctor says if she doesn't deliver within the next few days he's going to induce."

"I see my niece is still being difficult."

"No, your nephew is still being difficult," he corrected, certain that he was having a son and still upset with his wife for not allowing him to find out the sex. "Hannah is busting with joy. She can't wait to be a big sister."

"Remind me to tell her how awful brothers can be when I come to visit."

Brandon laughed sarcastically. "She can't wait to see her Aunt Brenda anyway." Silence for a beat as Brandon informed Hannah that her favorite cereal was on the shelf. "Sorry," he apologized. "So when can I expect you? Hannah's not the only one who can't wait to see you."

Brenda smiled against the phone. "Should be soon. I've received a couple of scripts for some movies out that way that are decent enough. And Dylan wants to see Iris. He hasn't since she moved back. Besides, I have to come and spoil the newest Walsh something fierce."

"You are not to spoil my children, Brenda Walsh. That computer you bought for Hannah was enough to last a few years."

"I hope you know this is going in one ear and out the other, brother," she told him casually.

"I have no doubt." She could almost see him rolling his eyes. "So, what's up? You just calling to check in? You sounded kind of…sad…through your cheeriness."

"It should be criminal the way we know each other."

"Twins, Brenda," he reminded her. "Out with it."

"Dylan and I talked about the baby we lost last night."

She felt him tense through the phone. "How'd that go?"

"We're still in Dublin together, so good, I guess." That wasn't fair. "No, it went well. We needed to talk about it. We really hadn't these three years…and…it was good."

"That's great. I'm glad you guys are moving forward."

She chuckled. "Always faithful in our love, huh?"

"Always faithful that neither of you would ever love anyone else the way you love each other," he corrected. Hesitated a moment before continuing. "Something else bothering you?"

"No, no," Brenda replied, fingering the ring on her finger. Admiring the beauty and noticing how perfect it looked on her finger. "I'm good. For the first time in a really long time, I'm good. I feel like…a whole person again. Like I've changed."

"You have," Brandon assured her. "You've matured into a confident, vibrant and loving woman. One who's not perfect and no longer tries to be. You're comfortable with your life, Bren. It's a good thing."

Brenda remembered now why she called her brother in the first place, and how happy she was for doing so. "You always know the right thing to say."

"Of course. A part from being a genius, I'm very good with the words."

Brenda laughed and rolled her eyes. Out the corner of her eye, she saw couples walking hand in hand to the dining room. The dining room itself was elaborately decorated with soft gold and white. Flowers adorned every table and practically every surface that sturdy enough to support the weight. Outside the door to the dining room she saw a sign that welcomed the participants in tomorrow's hand-fasting ceremony.

"Okay, genius who is very good with words, I have to go now. I just wanted to hear my best friend's voice."

"Aww, you missed me," Brandon teased, even though he missed her, too.

She chuckled again. "Give Andrea, Hannah and the baby my love. I'll see you, soon. I love you, Brandon."

"I love you, too," was the last thing her twin said before they both hung up.

With his words of how much she's changed ringing in her ears, Brenda went to the desk to speak to the clerk who helped her before. The pretty woman looked up with a smile.

"How can I help you, Miss Walsh?"

"I'm curious about the ceremony that's taking place here tomorrow. Can you tell me what it's about?"

The woman beamed so brightly, her smile rivaled the sun. "Of course! We hold the ceremony once a year on the day of the Winter Solstice. Most of the couples who participate are either already legally married and renewing their vows in a traditional Pagan way or are new couples who are not overly religious, at least not in the organized church sense, and want to be bound together as husband and wife." She paused to take a breath. "Is this something you and Mr. McKay would be interested in participating in?"

"Yes," Brenda answered honestly, not needing a moment to consider it. She was certain now that she wanted to be his wife. "But we don't have a marriage license. Would that be a problem?"

The clerk smiled just as brightly as before. "Not at all."

"How was Brandon?" Dylan asked when Brenda walked into the their suite. He looked up from the book he was reading and noted the large garments bags she carried. "What's all this?"

"Brandon's fine," she answered; ignoring his second question, she laid the garment bags down on the bed, and placed the other bags at the foot off the bed. "He sends his love and demands that none of the things we bough be for his children."

Dylan laughed. "I'm sure you told him there was no chance of that happening."

She made a non-committal sound. And sat down on the other side of the bed. "He knew it without me having to say so."

Dylan laughed and watched her suspiciously. He could always tell when his girlfriend (fiancée) had something up her sleeve. Her poker face was terrible.

"So…what's in the bags?"

"Oh, some stuff for me and some stuff for you," she answered, trying to sound cryptic and coming across as giddy.

"What stuff?" he asked slowly, unsure of really wanting to know in case it was another pair of pajamas.

With a small smile, Brenda pulled up the garment bag she placed in front of him. Unzipping it with flourish and a tah-dah at the end, she pulled out a plain white suit and shirt. There was a creamy gold colored tie hanging on top of the crisp white shirt.

"It's a little plain to look at on the hanger, but I think it will just have to do on such short notice."

Dylan looked from the suit to her and back again twice, coming up confused as to why he would even need a suit. "Okay," he laughed shortly. "What's the suit for?"

Brenda's face was the picture of innocence when she said, "Well you're going to need something to wear when you marry me tomorrow afternoon. Apparently both the bride and groom are required to wear white at these rituals."

Dylan continued to look at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"Okay, what?"

"Honestly, Dylan, it was your idea to participate in the hand-fasting ceremony and now, you don't want to?" She tsked at him and she laid the suit down with care. "Try to pull together your participation at a mass wedding on such short notice and the groom still doesn't want to cooperate."

Her boyfriend's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. She could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but he was still confused.

"I thought you didn't want to participate? I thought you had reservations about becoming my wife?" He asked, but there was no amusement in his voice or eyes.

"I did," she replied honestly. "But I don't anymore."

Dylan opened his mouth to say something and then closed it just as abruptly. His brain was working faster than his mouth could catch up to.

"Okay, what happened between you leaving this room to go call your brother and deciding you want to get married in a Pagan ritual?"

"We happened," she answered, again, honestly. "You and I came here and we faced everything we needed to face." She reached for his hand. "We came together, for the first time since we've been back together, and it proved to me that I've changed. That I'm worthy of you."

"Wait, Bren…"

"That we're worthy of each other. That we can face and get through anything as long as we talk to each other and not run away. It's you that changed my mind, Dylan. It's what you've been saying all along. I want to be your wife, Dylan McKay. I want to wear your ring and have you wear mine."

Willing to accept her words for truth, Dylan smiled. When he finally allowed himself to think about it, he realized he was happy. This was what he wanted. To be married to Brenda and spend the rest of his life loving her and making her happy. The thought not only excited him, but warmed him inside and out.

Then, a thought dawned on him. "But we don't have a marriage license. Or rings." His face fell a little, but Brenda only smiled.

"Turns out, we don't really need a license to participate. The hand-fasting is symbolic. Besides, we can always get a license after or wait until we get back to London. And…" She shot up quickly to pull a smaller bag out of the larger bags she left at the foot of the bed. Walking instead to sit on his lap rather than back to her side of the bed, she pulled out a red velvet box and opened it to the large silver diamond encrusted wedding bands. She felt something inside of him melt, and likened him to be feeling much like she had yesterday when she received her ring. "I hope you like what I've picked out."

"They're beautiful," Dylan said, his voice low and verging on quivering. He kissed her lips softly, taking the box from her hands and appraising the rings. Another thought occurred. "What about your dress?" His eyes glanced to the garment bag.

"It's downstairs being worked on," she replied. "You really think I'd pick out a suit for you and not get my own wedding dress." She rolled her eyes and Dylan tickled her side. "It should be ready by tomorrow morning. Perfect timing for the evening ceremony."

"You've thought of everything," Dylan joked. His smile was wide and toothy and full of the type of joy she hadn't seen in him in a really long time. Happiness agreed with them. It looked wonderful on them both. "But is this really what you want? A spur of the moment wedding in a strange land with no family and no friends, that probably isn't legal anyway?"

She shrugged. "I just want to be your wife. I want to let go of the pain and the hurt of the past and move forward with you."

Smiling again, Dylan caressed her face. "I want that, too."