"You know, Brenda would've had a relationship with Val from Buffalo or from, you know, from their frie - from their families being friends, the same way Brandon did when they were young kids. In fact, she might have even had a close relationship with Val. They might have been a dynamic duo." - EP Larry Mollin, Beverly Hills Show Podcast in May 2020
xx
Hauling eight adults full of satiated appetites and cheerful chatter regarding the incredible performance witnessed earlier in the day, the Silvers' van ambled past the palm tree-lined streets of Beverly Hills.
She studied the shops that constituted Rodeo Drive, recalling the desperation she used to experience about purchasing an article from one or more of their clothing departments.
Now that she could do so without begging her parents or praying the check wouldn't bounce, she realized with a start that the shopping district no longer held any appeal.
A corner shop in a quiet Alps-encumbered village fascinated her far more, or getting lost in the mountains during a group trek with the lads and stumbling over a hidden sweets shop.
Sandwiched between Dylan and Brandon, who managed to tear himself away from his fiancée long enough to share a presumably short car ride with his sister and fictive-kin, Brenda glanced over at the two men when the residential area became a little too nostalgic for her liking.
"Uh, lads?" she asked, visually combing over the scenery, "Does one of you live in our old neighborhood?"
"Ah, now you see, world traveller Brenda, that's part of the surprise," said Steve in the middle seat. He sat situated on either side of Kelly and Andrea, with an arm resting lazily around both.
"What, a scenic drive through the pathway to the home formerly known as Casa Walsh?" Brandon asked, reaching over his twin to nudge Dylan's elbow.
"You could say that," he replied in a partial grin, lowering his genial gaze to Brenda.
"We figured Brenda Walsh's return to the best city in the world wouldn't be complete without stopping by the old place," Steve said. His tone carried a cryptic edge, one so unlike Steve Sanders that Brenda worried what he had up his sleeve.
"Eating at the Peach Pit, swinging by Casa Walsh. What's next, walking the halls of West Bev to check out the graffiti art on the lockers?"
"Oh, let's!" Donna said, clapping her hands in a way that either resembled a sunning seal or the captain of a cheerleading squad. "We can finally dig up the old time capsule. We'd planned to do so at the reunion, but it didn't seem right without you there."
His smile rapidly erasing as if an overeager child took a magnetic pen to a Wooly Willy, Dylan shifted to stare out the window in the opposite direction from Brenda.
"Don't you guys think it would be much cooler to have a group of kids dig it up fifty years from now?" Steve asked, pressing both hands against the back headrest of the driver's seat.
"Not if some random kid snatches Scott's hat. I think we should do it," David said, flicking his gaze to the rearview mirror as he avoided a tailgating Mazda whose driver evidently believed the streets were excellent practice for NASCAR.
"I was joking, Don," said Brenda, reeling over the mere idea of stepping foot in their alma mater.
"Right, so was I," she said, quickly covering.
"I wasn't," David said, glancing upward at Brenda's reflected image, "can I get that hat back sometime in this century?"
He drove slowly along, carefully watching the road until they reached the Walsh twins' first home outside of Minnesota.
"We've seen it. Now we can go, right?" Brenda inquired, preferring to avoid a longer stay than necessary.
Those last months as a tenant of Casa Walsh brought back the memory of some of her most humiliating moments, ones she previously left buried in the compartment under the window seat that once held someone else's old diary.
A solace could, perhaps, be found in unearthing their time capsule, but not in those memories.
"Not just yet, Bren," said David, who parked the car directly at the top of the driveway and thus dashed her last hope.
"Now, we go inside," the glint in Steve's eyes twinkled.
"Inside?" Brenda asked, eyebrows darting to her forehead in cartoonish style.
"Everybody out!"
Dylan and Brandon exited as one, with the former holding out his hand to help her out of the vehicle. She accepted the proffered hand and breathed in the fresh evening air.
Electing to stand by Brandon, she slung an arm around her brother's shoulder and leaned up towards his ear.
"Didn't our parents sell this place when they moved to Melbourne?" she whispered rather loudly, examining the ostensibly fresh coat of paint on the Walsh's old residence.
Manicured lawn, obvious paint job, a newspaper on the stoop. It certainly seemed lived-in, which begged the question of why the gang chose to stop by someone else's home and the sly thought that perhaps they would soon be kicked out.
"That's what they said," he replied, sharing in her dubiety.
"While it's true that Mama and Papa Walsh did put Casa Walsh on the market after saying I could stay in it indefinitely -" Steve began, a guttural tone peeking through his otherwise calm demeanor.
"But you're not bitter or anything, right?" Brenda asked, hooking her arm through his.
"No, I'm not bitter," he said, though the emotion in his voice betrayed the reassuring statement, "the people who bought the house up and moved to Florida or Acapulco or wherever it was."
"So the house went back on the market shortly after Brandon - you know," Kelly said, grasping his hand against her cheek.
He leaned over to place multiple tiny kisses along her neck.
"And we hated the thought of anyone else living in it," Donna said, grabbing Brenda's hand. "I mean, the staircase is where your mom calmed me down after I found mine having an affair."
"The first time I felt like I belonged anywhere was in the living room during that sleepover," Andrea said.
Brenda stretched her arm past the crook of Steve's to rub the woman's shoulder.
"I stayed in B's room after my accident and again when Jack died, had some great Thanksgivings in the kitchen and did," Dylan projected a coy smile, "various other things in the rest of the house."
"I was at your place more than my own," Steve said, his declaration echoed by both Dylan and Kelly, who laughingly tilted her head over Brandon's.
"And it was the birthplace of reverse Scrabble," added David, bringing Donna's backside into his chest.
"Plus, some of you continued to live here after the last Walsh was gone," said Brandon, patting Steve's back after momentarily halting his public display of affection on his fiancée.
"You could have at least returned for our wedding," David said with a scowl.
"Davy, my boy," said Brandon, in a rough attempt at a Scottish Highlands accent, "we were chest-deep in election season."
"Yeah, I know," he sighed, "you were working on the election, Bren was in the middle of a spring production, Jim and Cindy couldn't get the time off. I understand, really, but it didn't make not having you there any easier."
"Well," Brenda said, lifting her elbow onto his shoulder, "just tell me when and where the vow renewal is and I'll be there."
"Who says we're having a vow renewal?" he asked.
"Doesn't everyone?"
Brandon held up a hand and slid his arm around Kelly's waist.
"Before we get into plans of future ceremonies or lack thereof," he said, "I'm still baffled why we're here."
"As am I," Brenda concurred.
"Well, Bren, any time we tried to picture another family invading this house, we just became more upset," Steve said, pulling her into his shoulder.
"So we pitched in and bought it," Donna said.
The twins' jawlines fell as one.
"You bought Casa Walsh?" Brandon asked, staring a full second at each of their friends.
"We bought Casa Walsh," Dylan confirmed in a grin.
"Then which one of you lives here, D?"
"You, B, if you decide to leave DC. Otherwise, we keep it on hand as the place we use when we need to get away."
"You know, Brandon, there are newspapers in LA," Andrea said with a light tap on his chest.
"I'll take that into consideration, Chief."
"I don't suppose we can convince you to stay, Bren?" asked Kelly with perky optimism.
"Not a chance," she said.
"Yeah, we figured," said a dismayed Steve.
She observed the crestfallen expressions on her friends and nudged Donna.
"But I promise I'll visit at least once a year from now on."
"Just as long as you remain in our lives, Bren, then it doesn't matter if you're here or there," Donna whispered and threw herself on Brenda.
Brandon and Kelly joined in, with the others coming in one by one until they all formed a football huddle.
"We've got to stop group hugging like this," Brenda laughed, noticing the gang pull away until only Donna and Steve were left hanging on her.
"Get used to it, Brenda," said David, flinging an arm around both women, "two blocks of our Jenga have been gone for far too long and now that we have both of you back, however short a time, we can't promise we won't stop tackling either of you. Maybe you more so than Brandon, on account of you probably don't have as many injuries."
"Jenga, young David?" asked Brandon, laying a palm on his shoulder.
"Best way to describe it, Brando," said Steve, "'cause when the Walsh twins are gone, everything falls apart."
"So you bought the house to keep your lives intact?" Brenda asked with a note of frivolity.
Kelly placed her arms around Brenda from the side and squeezed her with just enough room left to breathe.
"We bought the house so we will always have our home," she said.
"And to see the look on Jimbo's face when he realizes," added Dylan to lighten the mood.
"That's right," said Brandon, tucking in the conjoined Brenda and Kelly to his side, "our parents are sure taking their sweet time in getting here."
"Dad couldn't exactly cancel his business trip, not even to see the golden child," Brenda goaded.
"I am not the golden child."
"Oh please, Brandon. You could never do anything wrong where Dad was concerned; Mom, too, for that matter. I bet he wouldn't have cared if you'd decided to attend the University of Minnesota."
"Maybe Jim wouldn't, but we would," said Dylan quietly, "just like we cared when you did."
The others murmured in agreement.
"But you immediately came back," Steve said cheerfully.
"And left again," added Donna, appearing forlorn.
"Then forgot how to call or write except for one letter," Kelly's face turned downcast, "though that was more on me and the horrible way I kept treating you over and over again before you left."
Shrugging off the woman's self-reprimand, Brenda lay her head against Kelly's arm.
"Although you did keep in touch with Steve and myself," Andrea embraced her from behind.
"For which we are forever grateful," Steve initiated a high-five with Brenda that resulted in their linked hands.
"Then little by little, returned to us all," David said, clasping his hand over theirs.
"And to them," Dylan said, opening the door in swift motion.
"Surprise!"
She stared in awe at the crowd before her, feeling as if she had carelessly fallen headfirst into Steve's time warp.
Kelly's glamorous and immediately recognizable mother, Jackie, stood beaming next to a teenager in a black leather jacket. Her husband and prominent Beverly Hills dentist, Mel Silver, leaned against the stair railing. She caught a glimpse of whom she could only assume was her old prom date, Tony Miller, chatting with Steve's mother, Samantha Sanders.
Her summer school drama teacher lingered in the entranceway of the living room, helping Donna's mother Felice Martin entertain three boisterous little girls as she spoke with the equally identifiable Yvonne Teasley.
With a light swipe against Brenda's neck, Dylan headed over to kiss Jackie's cheek and pick up the toddler in her arms.
"Auntie Bren!" called a high-pitched voice that soon collided into Brenda's legs.
"Oh look, lads, it's my magical Maddie," she said, tickling the young girl.
"Auntie Bren, stop," giggled young Madeline Sanders, hopping up and down as she arched her back, "I'm not ticklish."
"I beg to differ, Maddie. Ticklish people laugh and you, my love, are laughing."
"She's got you there, Mads," said Steve, somehow managing to effortlessly pick her up with one arm when Brenda struggled to do so with two.
"When do you go back?" Madeline asked, swinging her side ponytail, "Can I go with you?"
"And leave your dear dad all alone?" asked a stern-faced Steve.
"You'd be fine, Daddy," she said, smacking her lips against his cheek, "GD could just move in with you."
"GD?" asked Brenda, rubbing her back.
"That would be me," Dylan said.
From the decibel of his voice, Brenda could tell that he had walked over unnoticed during their conversation to stand directly behind her.
"Though Steve and I living together does not seem like the best plan in the world."
"I don't know, Maddie," said Brenda, enclosing her larger hand in the child's smaller one, "maybe your daddy and GD would make terrific flatmates."
Madeline looked horrified.
"I don't want them to be flattened!" she said, tightening her grip around her father.
"Roommates," Brenda corrected, "housemates, whatever you wanna call them mates."
"You're surely kidding, Bren," said Dylan, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"Yeah, we'd kill each other," Steve said, regarding her with the perspective of an astronaut encountering a three-headed alien.
"And then where would Maddie be?" Dylan asked.
"With Auntie Bren in England!" she said giddily.
"A full circle," Steve said, his lips turning down into a pout that resembled a saddened golden retriever, "I see how it is, Mads."
"I love you, Daddy," she said and kissed his other cheek as proof of her affection, "but I see you all the time and Auntie Bren is only in a computer."
She felt a twinge of guilt, caressing the girl's hair whilst analyzing and reanalyzing Madeline's bold statement.
"Auntie Bren has promised she will see us in person much more often and Auntie Bren rarely breaks a promise," Steve assured his daughter with a pointed look to Brenda.
"I swear we'll make absolutely sure she keeps this one, Madster," said Dylan, tucking an arm around Brenda's waist.
"Best goddaddy ever," Madeline said and kissed all three before jumping out of Steve's grasp.
She sped towards the girl whose eyebrows hid under a mass of curls which appeared slightly darker than they did on screen.
Brenda started to follow Madeline and walk towards Hannah Zuckerman-Vasquez when she was intercepted by overwhelming and not altogether unpleasant perfume.
"Brenda! It's so good to see you. You look fantastic. Doesn't she look fantastic, Mel?"
"She does indeed, Jackie."
She relaxed into the arms of the older woman who concurrently served as Brandon's future mother-in-law, the grandmother of Dylan's adopted son and Cindy Walsh's dear friend.
"Me? What about you, Jackie? You look divine!" Brenda said, pulling back to look at her.
Though she knew through Donna that the woman currently stood in remission from breast cancer and firmly held to seven years of sobriety, Jackie Silver's face shone more brightly than the pagoda roof sitting atop Grauman's Chinese Theatre.
In fact, if Brenda weren't previously aware that a wig adorned Jackie's head, she would swear that the Silver matriarch avoided the aging process altogether.
"How are you? How's London? How's your mother?" Jackie asked. Her questions tumbled over, dominoes falling from her scarlet lips in much of the same manner as the bubbles in her water glass.
"I'm great, London's amazing, Mom's doing well and should be here within the month."
"Excellent. Mel and I keep trying to fly out to see you perform, but it's difficult with his schedule."
"Well, if you do make it into town, let me know and I'll be sure to hook you up with all of the elite places," Brenda said, masking the shock she felt at the older Silvers' active attempt to visit her.
"Aren't you going to introduce me, Mom?" huffed the girl standing near Mel.
"Oh, sorry. Erin, honey, this is Brenda Walsh. Brenda, you remember Erin?"
"So this is the famous Erin," said a beaming Brenda, "I haven't seen you since you were a toddler."
"Please, call me Silver," the teenager replied in a shudder, "the only ones who don't are my parents and Andrea."
"Okay, Silver," she replied with an upward shake of her head.
"And you're Brandon's sister," said Silver, violet-streaked hair whipping across her shoulders as she snuck a peek at her future brother-in-law, "you can give me all the embarrassing details to use against him, right?"
"I'll start making a list," she said and they exchanged a secretive smile.
"Brenda!" said the subject of their conversation, overhearing from his position on the middle step.
Laughingly pecking his cheek, Kelly extracted herself from the nettled Brandon to skip over to her family.
"Excellent," Silver said. "If Brandon is supposedly marrying my sister for real this time -"
"Hey, Silver, I can hear you, you know," he said.
" - and you're his sister, what does that make us?" she continued, ignoring the eavesdropper.
"Technically, it doesn't make us anything," Brenda said.
"Unless you want it to," Kelly said through a bright smile that rivaled her mother's.
"Well, I bet my friends would be hella jealous if I told them we had a London actress in the family," Silver said, holding up folded hands in a pleading gesture.
"I mean, if you want me to be part of your family, then I certainly don't have any objections," Brenda replied, simultaneously pleased and puzzled.
Silver cheered, pulling her into an embrace.
"But just remember she's my family first," Steve said, popping his head over Brenda's shoulder, "mine and Maddie's."
"Except you have to share her with us," David said, coming up to them with a little girl attached to his hip. "Brielle, baby, this is Brenda. Can you say Brenda?"
He smoothed out her crooked tulle skirt and fixed the loose strands of her ballet bun.
"Brenna!" said the girl, enthusiastically smacking out the first letter.
"It's nice to meet you, Brielle," she said, shaking the child's tiny fist, "your mommy has told me so much about you and your sisters."
David scanned the crowd as his fingers rapidly shifted to prevent his daughter from choking him with his own chain necklace.
"Joni's hanging onto Felice's leg and the one trying to hobble past Dad is our youngest, Kelsea."
"Also known as the three sweetest girls in the world," Silver said, beginning a subtle game of peek-a-boo that resulted in the child shyly burying her head in her father's neck.
"Well, they get that from their mother," David said as he bounced Brielle and whispered reassurances in her ear.
"Sorry, Brenda," he murmured, trailing a hand along the girl's back. "Bri isn't used to large gatherings."
"No bother, David," she smiled. "Believe it or not, but Mom says I was the same way."
"As an infant," Brandon said, enclosing their friend in overly enthused arms. "She grew out of it pretty quickly, trust me."
"Just because these lads are our family doesn't mean we have to reveal every secret, Brandon."
"You clamoring for attention isn't exactly a state secret, Bren."
"Maybe I wouldn't have needed to clamor if you hadn't been hogging the spotlight."
David cleared his throat, jarring the twins out of their squabble.
They turned back to him in unison, arms crossed and lips pursed in the manner of a tea kettle whistling its conclusion.
"Guys, Bri's about to crash. Can I take her up to your room, Brandon?"
"Not sure you can call it my room, young David," he said, reaching out to gently rub Brielle's back.
"It never stopped being your room."
Brandon allowed their friend his approval and looked over at Brenda with a heavy sigh.
"Sorry, sis."
"What are you apologizing for?" she asked, bright red lips curling in a lopsided smile. "This is what we do and there's no one I'd rather do it with."
Brandon's own grin invoked the image of a king dining on the eve of his coronation.
"Yeah. Me too," and he ran his fist through her hair.
Breaking away from her brother to mingle with the other guests, Brenda engaged in conversation with West Beverly's former jock. She cheerfully brushed off Tony's outpouring gratitude as he fondly recalled her entertaining his schoolboy crush and permitting him to take her to their prom.
She listened intently to the tale of his post-graduation years, set in a university located in the southern region of the country, and the fiancée he met within. He credited Brenda with the courage to ask Aileen on a date, as he confessed his lack of confidence with the opposite sex prior to Brenda's acceptance of his last-minute invitation.
She, in turn, thanked him for working to make the evening as special as possible in the torrential waters of her senior year - though she left it at special and avoided a verbal admittance of the pitying addition.
A football scholarship carried Tony to the pro leagues, where he became reacquainted with Steve through a mutual contact. He shared his shock at receiving Steve's message, inviting him to a surprise party for the absentee star.
Brenda pondered the disruption in her friend's apparent plans if she maintained her word about avoiding Beverly Hills and the people therein.
They had begun on the topic of her own career when the front door opened, beckoning a gust of warm air. Her ears perked when she heard Steve speak quietly with the newcomer.
"I'm not late, am I?"
Excusing herself from Tony, she spun around.
"Holy shit, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Philly!"
"I could ask you the same question," said the fashionably late woman as she sprinted over and latched her arms around Brenda, "you're in California and didn't even think to tell me?"
"You're not alone in that, Val," said Dylan in reproach, coming over to welcome energetic Valerie Malone with an embrace of his own.
"Well, Val, Pennsylvania isn't exactly next-door," Brenda replied defensively.
"When Steve Sanders texts and says my Brenda Walsh is returning to the Hills, damn right I'll buy a ticket then and there."
"Your Brenda Walsh?" said Steve, whose features became askance, though he greeted her nonetheless.
"Oh, so you could tell Val, but you couldn't tell me, Sanders?" asked Dylan with blatant irritation.
"We've been over this, McKay."
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
"Hey, Dylan," Valerie said, the light tangoing through her gaze reminiscent of a sparkler on a summer evening, "how's married life treating ya?"
"Married life?" he asked with a perplexed tilt of his head.
"Yeah, shouldn't you be in wedded bliss with Kelly and popping out a few kids by now?"
"Free as a kite," he told her, spreading out his arms.
"Kites are held down by string and can get carried away by the wind into a tree," said the newly returned Andrea, who tucked her head into Brenda's back. "I wouldn't say that's the best comparison, Dylan."
"Besides, Valerie," said Brandon as he approached, "you remember my fiancée, don't you? Miss Kelly Taylor?"
"So you've gone back to Miss Perfect," she said, giving a rapid eye roll that appeared almost nonexistent.
"It's nice to see you, too, Val," said Kelly snidely.
"Did I miss something?" Brenda asked, hooking her arm around her oldest friend, "Do you two not get along, or something?"
"Or something," Dylan snickered.
"To put it bluntly, Bren, these two girls hate each other," Donna said, welcoming Valerie with a cautious smile.
"Kel and Val hate each other?" she asked, gobsmacked. "Why?"
"Well, I wouldn't say I hate her, per se," Valerie started, "more like she annoys the hell out of me."
"And the feeling is mutual," Kelly said, keeping her arms around Brandon as armor against a violent troll.
"They get along every once in a blue moon," Dylan said, brushing his hand against Brenda's waist.
How quickly he had resumed old habits, finding little ways to touch her. She tried to focus on the group's explanation, rather than analyze his movement.
Permitting Dylan her friendship, she could do without issue, but anything more would be climbing back on a Magic Mountain roller coaster better left unseated.
"Then want to claw each other's eyes out the rest of the time," Donna added, flicking a look of trepidation back and forth between the archenemies.
"Weird," Brenda said, "I always thought you two would have got on well. I mean, you have a lot in common."
"Oh please, Brenda," said Valerie in a sneer, "as if I would share anything in common with Kelly Taylor."
"And frankly, Bren," said Kelly, "I find it offensive that you would think so."
Brenda arched an eyebrow at both women.
"Dad issues, mom issues, abandonment issues, a history of sexual assault," she rattled off.
"Shit," Valerie said, "she's right."
Kelly appeared frozen in place.
"I - I never realized," she said quietly.
"See, sis, this is why we desperately needed you during the Val years," Brandon said, clasping her shoulder.
"The Val years?" she asked.
"It's what we call all the drama that Valerie Malone brought with her to Beverly Hills after you left," David explained.
"So what does that make my time here?" she asked. "The Brenda years?"
"I prefer to think of it more as the superior years," Donna said, "no offense, Val."
"None taken, Donna. They don't make them much better than Brenda."
The group nodded their heads in accordance.
"That is some serious selective memory you all have," Brenda replied, "or should I remind you where we stood before I moved abroad?"
"No need, Bren," said Steve, "I'm sure we remember and I, for one, will never stop apologizing for it."
"Steve, issuing an apology every six months for the past twelve years is more than enough. You already know I've forgiven you; there's no reason you have to keep dredging it up."
"Brenda! Why'd you have to go and tell everyone?"
"How many apologies is that, Steve?" teased Brandon, working to mentally figure out the mathematics.
"Infinitely more apologies than I'll give you if you don't quit doing the math, Brando."
Brandon put an arm around the sheepish man's shoulder and slid a knuckle through Steve's white-blonde curls.
"Walshes, can I speak to you? Alone?" Valerie asked, tugging on their respective arms.
Brandon gave a polite nod and detached himself from Kelly, linking an arm over Brenda's as they crept up the staircase with Valerie in tow.
Through the gaps in the railing, she noticed Dylan's trained gaze saunter up the stairs alongside.
Selecting Brenda's old room for their place of privacy, the twins sat on the window seat and eyed their childhood friend in matching curiosity.
Philadelphia's transplant stood before them, pacing over worn carpet badly in need of restoration.
"Saying my years here were pretty reckless would be putting it mildly, Brenda. I did some crazy shit and hurt a lot of people. I can't ever make up for what I did and I'm not so sure I'd take any of it back because what is life without fucking up?"
Valerie perched on the edge of an unfamiliar bed, crisscrossing her legs against its crisp sheets.
Brenda marveled at the attention to detail their friends put into a house they claimed was left largely vacant.
She examined the room, diving into the avalanche of memories cemented in its bare walls. Forgetting Brandon's lucky hat on a rain-soaked camping trip. Modeling her own hat for Andrea. Consoling a heartbroken Donna. Beautifying herself with Kelly for the double date from hell. Studying with Dylan. Kissing Dylan. Quarreling with him over a heartrending letter. Ripping his pictures off of her wall and storing them in a long-forgotten cardboard box that may have likely drowned in the great '98 El Niño, which ironically occurred in the same year he departed her flat an ocean away.
That one tore her out of her musings and back to Valerie's monologue.
"Brandon, if I regret anything, it's how much I hurt you. Brenda is my best friend, but you were the first, in more ways than one," her eyebrows lifted. "I know we've patched things up," three sets of impish grins reminisced over their shared weekend in Berlin, "when you were single. You seem pretty set on marrying Kelly and I just want you to know that, while we will never be friends and I'll seriously question your mental state if you think otherwise, I'll try harder to be cordial with her, for your sake."
Weighing the impact of her statement, Brandon stood to press his lips against her crown.
"Valerie, you have no idea how much you mean to both Bren and myself, or to our parents. We had some great times as kids and even some good moments when you lived here. I never wanted to choose between you and Kelly. When it comes down to it, I'm in love with her and will do everything I can to ensure her feelings are my priority, but I loathe the idea of losing you in the process."
She leant to take a hand from Brandon and then from Brenda.
"You won't, Brandon. I already thought I lost you these past few years and I don't care what you do with your life or who you do it with, including Kelly Taylor, just as long as you don't go AWOL on us again."
"Not like I planned to go AWOL in the first place," he said and lightly cuffed her chin.
"Hate to break up this lovefest, lads, but why was I needed?"
"To hold me accountable, Brenda," said Valerie, swiping at her eyes as Brandon laughed. "I need you to chastise me if I start fighting with Kelly or Donna."
"Donna?" she asked, stunned, "why would you fight with Don? She's the kindest person I know."
"Long story."
"And we have all the time in the world to tell it," said Brandon, encircling his arms around the two women, "so let's get back to that party downstairs before things get rowdy. Just because there are children doesn't mean Steve won't try to bring in a keg."
"Oh God," said Brenda and they went to rescue vulnerable young souls from the tempestuous beer games of a party king.
For, however much Steve Sanders matured over the years, and that was in large part due to his daughter, he was still Steve Sanders.
And when the party came a-calling, Steve came a-rocking.
xx
Well, I finally finished the rewatch of the Bren years, am bitter all over again and will forever ponder alternate later seasons where Bren, Val and Clare are in the series together.
Bandits fans are wonderful about reviewing. Thank you! I continue to be grateful and amazed. Shout-out to you all.
starlite22 - As Dreamer noted, the sentiment seemed much more characteristic of David to share publicly, in front of everyone, than Dylan. This is, after all, the boy who stared longingly at Bren every chance he got and still made out with Kel in public, even when they were clearly on the brink of despising each other. David is also speaking of his wife and the mother of his children; BD are only just back on speaking terms.
Crystal - I fully agree, which is why, as much as I loathe DK as a couple, I do believe they could have had a nice friendship if they hadn't become more. I like to imagine that in the future, a future where Dylan isn't the deadbeat father of her child, they would be.
DolphinGirl03 - I honestly don't even know where that came from - perhaps due to Shannen and Ian's friendship, or my love for almost all scenes Steve/Brenda on this rewatch, but it just seemed to fit.
Glad you liked the Peach Pit surprise and BK! They were much easier to reattach than BD.
-x-
As you can undoubtedly tell, I am having way too much fun with this story and, in a peculiar turn of events for me, have a good chunk of it already written. I will continue to space out updates, but do know exactly where this is headed. Hopefully it will be worth the time it takes to get there, particularly the winding coastal road back to our ill-fated couple, filed under: deserved a hell of a lot better.