"He loved that big coat. Luke picked out that coat to wear; it was in style for a few minutes. He wanted to - to just envelop her, that was his concept, envelop her with his -" "Charm." "Well, his coat, actually, but -" *laughs* - Jessica Klein (writer and EP) & Chuck Roisin, DVD commentary for Season 3, Episode 30 "Commencement", regarding Season 1, Episode 10: "Isn't It Romantic."
xx
The skies were meant to be grey.
The heavens should have opened, releasing a torrential downpour on the residents of the city by the Bay. There could have been a freak hurricane, splintering earthquake, uncharacteristic blizzard, shocking tornado - anything to match the melancholy moods of seven children of West Beverly and the bittersweet mood of an eighth.
But the skies were blue. The sun radiantly shimmered. Brenda and Theo observed one more sunrise, this time with Dylan sitting directly beside her as he detailed the idyllic place to catch the sunrise within California's ranchlands. When the troupe checked out of their lodgings and her brother's rental car appeared at the curb to take the three to breakfast, the forecast predicted no rain in sight. The flight listed as on time. They'd set a plan in place: Theo would meet with the troupe later in the afternoon. Brenda would be driven to the airport by her friends, at Brandon's issued request.
She decided it must be their way of making amends for the last time she flew off to London, when only her twin brother and her parents bothered to see her off. Later that summer, they greeted the waning season with welcoming Valerie in and had her time at RADA gone differently, perhaps she would have done the same.
She'd certainly be fascinated to see Valerie's rumored hijinks firsthand, so different from the girl with whom she'd grown up and the woman she knew now.
It still baffled her that anyone could fight with Donna. She pondered which side she would have taken in the quarrel between her oldest friend and her sweetest friend, even questioning her stance in Valerie Malone versus Kelly Taylor.
Before her trip, the answer would have been clear. Now, she couldn't be sure.
Kelly sat quietly in the passenger seat beside her fiancé, fiddling with the dials on the radio until a gentle tune filled the air. Brenda sat in the back, more enveloped by Dylan rather than between him and Theo.
He hadn't released her since she'd slid into the car.
Kelly's mirrored glance landed on hers. She smiled warmly; Brenda subconsciously did the same.
It certainly had been a crazy two months, or nearly two months.
Truths revealed. Friendships rebuilt. Promises made. Dolphins observed. The lifelong camaraderie between herself and her high school classmates resumed - all six of them, either retaining friendships regained several years back or recommitting to ones previously lost forever.
"Minnesota."
Only three seconds more and she would have seen the license plate before her brother.
"California."
"We're surrounded by Californias, Fletch. It's basically a given, like a bingo free space. You're looking for the other forty-nine states," Dylan smoothly expounded. "Kansas." He rested his chin on her head.
"New Hampshire. There's Rhode Island. And Hawaii."
"That's three in a row for Bren and an extra five points for New Hampshire, plus an extra four points for Rhode Island. You're crushing this!" Kelly held up the tally sheet.
"Kel, you don't have to let her win, you know."
"Aw, what's the matter, baby? Can't handle a little competition with your sister?" Kelly teased, stroking Brandon's back.
"Bren always wins this game," Dylan explained, to which Theo laughed.
"My observation skills are just faster than all of yours. Alaska." Brenda zeroed in on a car zooming past the window. "And over there is British Columbia."
"Don't even think about giving her extra points for that one, Kel. It's the States license plate game, not the North America license plate game." Brandon flicked his gaze to the rearview mirror, ensuring the Silvers' van trailed behind.
"Could be North America, though. I just saw Jalisco."
"You're no help, bro." Brandon glared at Dylan through the mirror.
"Does New Mexico count for North America?"
"Counts for both. It's a state." Dylan looked at the perplexed Theo, who stared out the window.
"Ah, then New Mexico."
"Mississippi." Kelly lay her head on Brandon's arm.
"Colorado, Ohio, Illinois and South Carolina."
"Bren, we're supposed to take turns!" her brother complained.
"Hey, if the woman sees four states, let her call out four states."
"Thank you, Dylan." Brenda smiled up at him.
"I think I liked it better when you two refused to acknowledge each other," Brandon muttered, though his bright eyes belied the statement.
The host led them to a large back room, rented out by Mel and Jackie Silver for that morning's meal. They were all there, everyone who travelled northward for Brenda's performance the previous day.
David helped Donna to seat their squirmy daughters before pulling out her chair himself. After handing Sammy off to her sister, Silver latched onto Theo and began bombarding him with questions. She steered the man over to Hannah and Andrea, who sat closely watching Steve moan into a mug. Nat regaled an enthralled Madeline with one of his many tales. Jim and Cindy conversed with their friends, standing to embrace their children as they came in.
With a hand on Kelly's exposed upper back to lead her through the throng, Brandon excused himself to check on Steve.
"Brenda, I hope you know how proud we are of you. We may not have always done the best job of showing it," Cindy narrowed her eyes, "okay, I may have not done the best job of showing it, but the career you have chosen for yourself is the career you belong in and that's never been clearer than yesterday. I'm very proud of you and the choices you have made, honey."
She felt the tears threaten to release as she threw herself into her father's arms, clutching him tightly.
"That's all I ever wanted to hear, Dad." Her whisper came out choked, rife with the longing of her adolescence and the heartache of an ongoing battle with her equally obstinate father.
"Maybe I have more of my father in me than I thought." Jim's hands caressed her back, joined shortly by the familiar hand of her mother's.
"Honey, if it's okay, we'd like to visit you." Cindy's fingers leapt to comb through her hair. "You've been faithful in visiting us each Christmas and it's our turn to visit you in your own home. Maybe we can see you perform again."
"I would love that." She placed a kiss on her father's cheek and then on her mother's.
"Mel and Jackie will be leaving after breakfast. They've offered to take us and Nat back down. We'll have to skip this airport goodbye, but I'm sure you've had more than enough sendoffs from us by now."
She laughed through her tears and captured her mother's hand in hers.
"Yeah, I suppose I have. Not sure there's such a thing as too many, though."
"Depends who you ask."
She separated from her parents, glancing over to see Dylan's unswerving stare.
"Dylan." Jim shook his hand. "How's it going, son?"
"It'd be going a lot better if I could convince your daughter to cancel her flight, but you know how it is," Dylan joked, clapping Jim's back.
"Sorry, Dyl, auditions kick off this week."
"Yeah, I know," he sighed, linking her hand in his. "We're sure gonna miss you, though."
"I'll miss all of you, too. I'll be back before you know it."
"Mind if I steal Bren away? The gang wants to tell her something."
"Go ahead." Cindy gave a soft smile, clasping her hand in theirs whilst coaxing both younger adults into an embrace with herself and Jim.
As Dylan led Brenda towards the group, she spotted Steve nursing a mug of thick, black liquid. He covered his eyes with both hands against the light of the restaurant.
"And what did we learn, Stevie?" Brandon's hand rested along his shoulder.
"We learned that was a fuck ton of fun."
"Steve," a stern Brandon replied.
"We learned I probably can't handle my liquor as well as I used to," Steve said in an exaggerated sigh.
"Did you ever handle it well?" Kelly asked.
He responded with a sardonic laugh.
"Glad you're okay, Steve," said Brenda as she patted his shoulder.
"Sorry for almost hitting you against the ceiling, Bren," he mumbled.
"Hey, I'm in one piece. No bother at all."
"I'd say it was a bit of a bother." Dylan shook his head, aligning his eyes with hers.
"What did you want to tell me?"
"Did I say tell? I meant give." He seated himself on the brickwork edge of a fireplace, tugging her down on the plush carpet to sit between his legs.
She wondered exactly how much money the Silver parents had spent on the restaurant.
"You didn't have to get me anything," she protested, "Just being here with all of you is present enough."
"Touching, Bren," said a slightly peaky Steve, "but we wanted to, so there's no need for humility."
David produced a large envelope, snaking his arms through Donna's to hand it to Brenda.
"Is this your way of telling me I got accepted to university?" She eyed the envelope, padded in such a way that it did appear to contain an acceptance packet.
"Just open it, Bren." Brandon's finger edged closer to the envelope.
"Okay, okay, jeez; don't open my envelope."
"Oh wait, here's the card! David, I told you to put it in there."
She accepted the smaller envelope from Donna, carefully peeling under its edge.
"I swear you take longer to open things than Mom does," Brandon grumbled.
She glowered at her brother, steadily eyeing him as she purposely ripped into the envelope.
"Happy?" She held up the card, which she easily recognized as a Donna original.
"Ecstatic." He drank from his orange juice, watching her eyes dart over the words.
"I'm your shining star?" she whispered through her tears.
Two crying jags already, Brenda thought, thank God for waterproof mascara.
"The one and only." Andrea's hand patted her leg.
"When you wish upon a star, you'll go very far and keep Bren from driving a car even to the nearest bar," Steve belted off-key.
"Don't quit your day job, Sanders." Dylan's fingers played with her hair.
She unsealed the larger envelope, revealing the certificate inside.
"You named a constellation after me?" In all the moments of bewilderment she'd experienced over the years, none came close to how astounded she currently felt.
"Yup. The Brenndr. It's an old Norse word. Not sure exactly what it means - could be a variant on Brandr which is fire - but it sounded better than the Brenda Constellation." Arms tangling around her neck, Dylan bent to press his lips against her cheek. "Like it?"
Brandon's eyebrows rose, gawping at their interaction. He exchanged a glance with Kelly. She looked to Andrea, who smiled at Donna. Donna then mouthed something to David and his eyes, in turn, sought out a sniggering Steve.
"Uh, guys? You have something to share with us?"
"Nothing that I know of. Bren?" Dylan shrugged at Brandon.
"You named a constellation after me." She spoke softly, oblivious to the question in everyone's minds.
"Yeah and all I got were a few measly articles," Brandon replied in jest, whimpering when Kelly lightly swatted his hand.
"There's something else in there, Brenda." Andrea peeked into the envelope.
She turned it upside down, sliding the second piece of paper into her hands.
"Wait. You named a constellation after me and you drew up a superlative?" Her jaw remained open, staring down at the golden lettering.
"Most Likely to Take the World By Storm. Yeah. Seemed appropriate." Steve placed his hand on her back.
"I don't know what to say." Her tears spoke monologues.
"Say you won't disappear for ages on us again and we'll call it even." Removing herself from her husband, Donna walked over to sit by her crying friend.
"Guess I can't get rid of any of you for good," Brenda joked.
"From this point on, it will be much easier to remove gum from a brand new heel than emotionally distance yourself from us, so don't even try it, Bren." Kelly's arm shot out to touch her hand.
"Yeah, like my sis with the psych degree said, we'll latch onto you like leeches."
"David Melvin Silver! I am not a leech, thank you very much." Donna wrinkled her nose.
"Like mosquitoes?" he amended.
"David!" Kelly yelled.
"Like whatever latches on and doesn't suck your blood," he sighed.
"Family?" Brandon suggested.
"That's debatable," Brenda laughed.
He gifted her a mocking expression.
"Bren, this is from me and Mads." Steve handed her a third, pre-opened envelope.
"Steve, why did you get me two tickets to London?"
"It's our tickets to London." His grin spread from one ear to the other. "Hope you're not planning to go to Mama and Papa Walsh's house for Christmas because me and Mads are crashing at your place before we fly over to Janet's grandparents in Kitakyushu."
She extracted herself from Dylan's hold to leap on their buoyant friend.
"Melbourne is off this year since we've already seen Mom and Dad. I'll likely have a show on Christmas Eve, but Christmas Day and Boxing Day are all yours."
"They have a day just for boxing? Sweet!"
"No, man. It used to be the servants' day off with a gift from their boss, but now it's essentially the same as a bank holiday for almost everyone."
She turned in Steve's arms to smile at Dylan.
"The banks have holidays? Cool. Maybe I'll move to England and become a bank teller."
"Steve, you should be afraid of anyone who trusts you with calculations," Brandon chuckled.
"Okay, Sanders, that's enough hogging." Dylan stood to reclaim Brenda's hand, spinning her back towards him.
"Not so fast, D." Brandon stepped between them, causing Dylan to practice visual archery on his friend's back. "Here's a little something from Kel and I." He held out a thicker, wider box dotted with hockey pucks.
Brenda glanced at Kelly in disbelief, who giggled.
"Brandon's going to let me buy all of the wrapping paper from now on. This was the last sheet on the roll."
"TMI, Kel." Steve ducked from Brandon's rapidly formed paper airplane.
"A Minnesota Twins shirt?" Brenda looked up at her brother.
"Yeah, so you'll quit stealing mine."
"I thought Emily Valentine had that shirt."
"She sent it back when she met some love of her life or whatever in Amsterdam." Despite Brandon's dismissive response, his frightened glance zoomed to a fuming Kelly. "Thanks a lot, sis," he mumbled.
"And last, but not least." Andrea withdrew a perfectly wrapped package from behind the leg of a chair.
"Let me guess, Andrea. Is it a book?" She laughed, accepting the gift.
"It is," she shrugged.
"Leave it to Andrea to fill our bookcases."
"You don't have bookcases, Sanders."
"No, but Mads does and Andrea fills them to the brim, Dyl."
"It's true. I do," Andrea nodded.
"A Greek dictionary?" Puzzled, Brenda flipped through the book, scanning through its words to decipher the mystery.
"Because your first play here, the first one we saw you in since CU, was a Greek tragedy."
She embraced the other woman, biting her tongue hard against her cheek to prevent her emotions from spilling over yet again.
"Kind of like Bren's life." Brandon took revenge for her mention of the ex-girlfriend with whom he'd once cheated on the fiancée who presently gave him the cold shoulder following Brenda's comment.
"Not too Greek tragedy, I hope." Dylan rested his hands on her shoulders.
"Hell yeah! Food is here!" Steve snatched Andrea's arm, who snagged Brenda's hand. Brenda felt Dylan's fingers lace around hers and thus began the linked chain of eight people heading to the table.
Lively, lyrical chatter filled the area, streaming out through the open doors leading to the beauteous roof overlooking the San Francisco skyline. Nat's stories dominated the meal, succeeded by various members of the group throwing in their own. In the intervals, they asked the Walshes about their life in Melbourne, with Jim and Cindy either confirming or refuting various stereotypes of the Australian populace.
Madeline asked if the Walshes travelled for work side-saddle on kangaroos. Steve confirmed they did, Jim corrected his assumption, and Cindy consequently scolded her husband for ruining the magic. Dylan inquired about the Gold Coast, which Cindy reminded him sat a seventeen hour drive from the Walsh home and thus had not yet been visited. Andrea queried the Melbourne and Sydney attractions worth visiting, specifically which museums were noted as the most informative. Hannah questioned her mother if they were even invited, leading both Jim and Cindy to issue a standing invitation for everyone during whichever holiday they preferred. Nat spoke of the late actor, Chips Rafferty, claiming he once dropped by the Peach Pit. Whether true or storied, they lost themselves in the older man's cheery reminiscence.
David tapped his spoon against his glass of sparkling cider, waiting for the chatter to die down.
"Steve had this mega speech prepared, but since he's -"
"Sick as a plane to Lourdes!"
Theo's comment invoked a strong sense of bafflement across the table. Brenda giggled, the only one to understand his euphemism whilst the others gradually gained comprehension.
"- yeah, sure, that," David continued in his befuddlement, "Bren," grey blue eyes focused in on her, "Since the moment we all met you, we knew there was something remarkable about you. Some of us felt love, some of us felt jealousy, some of us made really stupid mistakes or believed stupid shi - ships and hurt you, and some of us were just geeky Silver," David halted, glaring at Steve, "but all of us were impacted in some small way. We know that your star shines far away from this place, but -" he squinted at the paper in his hand and looked at Steve, "bro, I'm not gonna say that." He skimmed down the notecard, "or that, or that, or - what the fu - frick, Steve?" He set the paper on the table. "Right, so basically Bren, the gist is you're awesome, we love you, we want the world to see your talent which is why we aren't tying you to a chair in one of our attics to force you to stay, you'll always have a home here and Steve still has one seriously messed up mind."
"Hear hear!" Donna held up her glass. "To Brenda Walsh. May she go far and never again drive a car."
"To Brenda!" The sound of glass clinking against glass echoed to the chandelier. Dylan watched her reaction behind his mug, lips curving into a half-smile at the impending indignation he knew nearly as well as himself.
"What's wrong with Brenda's driving?" Theo scanned the snickering faces around the table.
"You don't wanna know, man, trust me." Dylan's face contorted in terror. "Just keep her far away from the steering wheel of any vehicle you may own, especially if it has gears."
"Hey! I'm not the one who totalled my car."
"That's because you didn't have a car to total," Donna noted helpfully.
"RIP, Mondale." Brandon pretended to wipe an invisible tear, which did in fact glint against one eye at the mention of the car that remained his favorite.
"RIP, Speedster," Dylan moaned operatically.
"See, Theo? Talk about a double standard," Brenda huffed, causing both men to crack up.
Her mother simply smiled knowingly from the other end of the table, likely conducting a little mental matchmaking of her own.
The first farewell came to her parents and the older Silvers, followed by Nat who ensured he would find a way to mail her a fresh peach pie. She allowed Silver a short interview for a class project before she departed with her parents. A third, temporary goodbye went to Theo when he hopped into the troupe's rental. She, her brother, their friends and respective children separated into two vehicles shortly afterward, driving along to the appropriately designated terminal at the hectic San Francisco International Airport.
Steve grabbed her carryon. Andrea clamped down on the handle of her rolling suitcase. David flung her crossbody bag over his shoulder, in which Donna tried to sneakily insert a small Ziploc containing various snack foods before being spotted by Brenda.
With her only luggage towed by her friends, she found herself trapped in Dylan's arms the moment they all entered the building.
"I'll only let you go if you swear you'll call," he whispered, hanging onto her with the same shaky energy he'd used on Brandon during their emotional reunion in Vandenberg.
Their talk at the air force base and the revelations it began to uncover - peeled entirely the following weekend - seemed decades ago; in reality, it'd only been months.
"I'll call."
"And text." His speech was swaddled in insistence.
"Yeah, I'll text."
"And write."
"Okay, I'll write."
"Five pages worth."
"Why not ten?" She smiled.
"Might as well make it a whole manuscript. I'll ship it off to Penguin and let you know when the book tour starts."
His arms remained around her, head buried in the crook of her neck.
She shoved down a strangled sob, both anxious to return home and devastated to leave the nomadic home of their tribe.
"You'll be back for the Fourth, right?" He held both of her shoulders as he pulled away slightly to search for a guarantee in her eyes.
"I will," she affirmed, "though I'm sure that must be some kind of treason as a resident of Britain."
"Then we'll dig up the time capsule," Donna chimed in, "and I won't hear any ifs or buts about it."
"Don, why do you keep making me go back to high school?" Brandon threw up his hands.
Dylan followed suit and aimed a feeble smile at Brenda.
"Hey, if it weren't for West Bev, none of us would know you guys," David said in defense of his wife.
The group quieted as they considered his candid statement; each, perhaps, momentarily imagining a life permanently absent of both Walsh twins.
"Got everything?" She detected the quaver in Dylan's voice.
"Yes."
"Everything?" he repeated, "including your passport?" His eyes sparkled with the sheen of remembrance.
"Yes, Dad, I have my passport," she teased, producing the navy blue of her American passport and the burgundy of her British one.
"Double the passport." He eyed the heraldic lion and unicorn etched into the golden emboss.
"Double the passport." She stood on her tiptoes to lightly kiss his cheek.
He closed his eyes. His nose brushed her hair. His knuckles lightly scraped her hip.
"Bren, I -"
"Yeah?" She stepped back to study him.
"Have a safe flight." He exhaled heavily.
"Thank you. I'll call you on the layover."
"You better."
"Didn't your mother ever teach you to share, McKay?" Brandon swept her to the side, away from an upset Dylan.
"Look, Bren, whatever D said, just know that if he gets a call from London before I do, I'll kill you."
"Noted, Bran." A soft laugh accompanied her tightening hold on both him and Kelly.
Stolen next by Steve, they stood with Madeline clinging to her waistline. Out of earshot from the other men, he bent to whisper in her ear.
"Call me first, Bren, as soon as you get home. They'll never have to know."
"You don't do calls, Steve."
"If it's from you, I'll consider it."
She knelt to be on Madeline's level, laying her hands on the girl's smaller shoulders.
"Take care of your Daddy, huh, Maddie?"
"Always," Madeline whispered tearfully. "Don't forget us, Auntie Bren."
"Never," she promised, bundling the child into her arms.
She peeked over Madeline's shoulder to the approaching Silvers.
"Bye, Bren." Donna's tears flowed freely.
"Don, don't cry." She stood and held the kindhearted woman against her chest.
"I can't help it," Donna sniffled, "I'm just awful at goodbyes."
Steve's sobs were loud and unapologetic as he engulfed both women.
"It isn't goodbye. It's see you next summer." Andrea set her hands on Donna's shoulder and Brenda's back.
Madeline slipped out, allowing David and Dylan to slip in.
Eyes blinking with the opalescence of contacts missing from his person, Brandon joined the others. He smacked a frenetic kiss to the crying Kelly's hair, who settled her hand on the free part of Brenda's back.
Hannah remained in the corner, holding the hands of the sobbing Madeline and the confused Sammy. She feigned an unacquaintance with the overly emotional adults.
Upon her release, Brenda said a personalized goodbye to each of her friends' children - Sammy Taylor included. There occurred a second moment between herself and Madeline, in which she withdrew a ten pound note from her bag and told the girl to keep it secure until they met again.
Taking her hand in his, Dylan slowly disentangled their fingers one by one when Theo, Isla and the collective troupe appeared to begin the check-in procedure.
Passport examined. Boarding pass received. Suitcase tagged and added to the belt. Another group embrace. A kiss on her forehead from Brandon. Further promises of communication. A group photo, initially taken by Hannah until a passing family offered to snap one with her included. Falling in line with the troupe, towards security and their awaiting gate. One look over her shoulder.
Eight miserable faces stared back, until she handed the required information to the noticeably fatigued TSA agent, entered into the metal detector and left them behind, again.
Despite her carefully selected wardrobe, Brenda's height still caused the metal detector to screech. She stood patiently, waiting for the hand-held wand to confirm her lack of dangerous possessions.
Passing through security, she caught Dylan and Brandon waving eagerly beyond the roped-off area, shoving at each other to get the better view. She returned their gestures with an enthusiastic wave of her own and blew an air kiss to Donna. She watched, beaming, as Steve pressed a hand to his heart in overdramatized theatrics, holding Madeline on his shoulders with the other hand whilst she held up a hastily scrawled banner declaring the exact amount of meaning Brenda held in her life.
She thought she saw David holding Kelly and Andrea against his chest, both of whom appeared to have collapsed. Sammy tugged at his mother's leg. Hannah stood nearby, running soothing circles over her mother's shoulder as she flicked a smile to Brenda and tried to calm the Silver girls playing tag.
From there on out, everything went smoothly. The troupe made it to their gate with plenty of time to spare. They took advantage of the opportunity for a last chance at purchasing products customs-free. Theo peculiarly opted for a jar of peanut butter. Isla selected three boxes of Mike 'n Ikes. Marisa snagged a bag of Jolly Ranchers. Brenda grabbed a couple of root beers, the last ones left in the cooler, and a book to read during the flight.
They boarded without incident, tuning out the attendant giving the same safety spiel they'd heard numerous times before.
She sat and wondered how quickly she would be cast aside.
Her friends had lives. They had families and careers, runway shows and mortgage payments - some of them, anyway. Travellers returned to great fanfare. They remembered and teased, swam and ate, then departed and life resumed. She couldn't expect them to spend her absence thinking of her and, in fact, hoped that they wouldn't.
She, however, would be stuck thinking of them for the foreseeable future.
Eyeing the shapes in the water below, she contemplated the difference between scuba diving in the Atlantic and scuba diving in the Pacific. She fingered her necklace, examining the wave's sparkle against the fierce sun prodding through the airplane window.
Waiting for their next flight in Boston, Theo dragged Isla along to inspect the hype of Dunkin Donuts - or Dunks, as a local corrected. Marisa chatted up a flutist from somewhere in Scandinavia, on route to the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia. Amusedly watching her friend, Brenda withdrew her mobile to text Dylan of their safe landing.
The ringing phone disrupted her playlist, beckoning in his cheerful greeting. He, along with Steve and Madeline, had elected to climb in with the Silver brood on the long drive back to Beverly Hills. His voice battled the cacophony of two talkative girls, David's request of lunch orders and Steve's indecision on which soda to purchase for his daughter.
The blasting radio signaled the reluctant end of their conversation, one of David's rarer heard pieces sounding over the airwaves. She secured a coffee and a panini for the transatlantic journey, a flight travelled mainly in sleep as the flight path abandoned the sun.
She said farewell to the troupe, rode the tube half-awake, stumbled into her home, dumped off her baggage, dressed in a haze and collapsed into her bed.
Slowly lifting her head from the paradisiacal pillow, she answered the shrill sound piercing through her tranquility.
"Hey, did I wake you?"
His words came out soft, comforting - a warm woolen ruana wrap to combat the biting cold misting against the window pane.
"What time is it?" She rolled onto her side.
"It's close to eleven over here."
"In the morning?" Her feet lifted to jump out and flash over to her wardrobe.
"At night." Dylan's response lulled her under the duvet.
"When did you get home?"
"An hour ago. We're all meeting at the Pit in a few for a late dessert with your parents before they head back tomorrow. I wanted to be the first to wish you happy birthday, check and see how your flight went. Figured if I called you before you called me, there'd be less bloodshed with B and a lot less whining from Steve."
"You're lucky I'm off today, McKay," she clutched her pillow with the free hand devoid of her mobile, burrowing deeper into her fabric cocoon, "because it's customary to not call people at six in the morning."
"Well, I'm not much for formalities." A chuckle underlaid his stolid tone.
"Went fine," she fumbled for the speaker button, "until Reykjavik. We were rerouted to Madrid and then finally made it back to London about, oh," she blearily glanced at the clock, "two hours ago."
"So I called you after two hours of sleep? Shit, I'm sorry, Bren."
"No bother," she yawned, "I didn't have to answer."
"But you did." His gentle voice carried her into a lullaby.
"Well, that's what you do for the people you love," she murmured, nuzzling into her pillow.
There ensued a lengthy pause.
"Brenda, did you just tell me you love me?"
His question was met by silence and a half-listening ear that turned his words into a dream.
"Bren?" he asked, waiting. "Brenda!" he urgently tried again and, realizing she had fallen asleep, uttered a loud sigh, a sigh which sprang into a raucous thunderclap over Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow's halted raid of the water banks of Acropolis during Doris Day's performance in the sixteenth century spring festival.
-x
It was the strangest thing. Barely even twenty minutes after I finished writing this chapter, Letting Go for a Little While by Ryan McMullen played on Spotify. I had never heard the song before and it fit this chapter one hundred thousand percent.
Thank you for the continued interest, reviews, favourites, follows, overall readership, etc - to those who have read from the start, from the middle or who have just started. Love reading your theories!
Guest - Oh, I'm sure Val will spring up again at some point. She's much too fun to leave behind.
Crystal - Haha, thanks! That pool scene was irritating in so many ways but the way a certain character said certain lines was probably the worst part about it.
wiccangrrl13 - I completely missed two episodes in season two because of those missing off of Hulu! Thankfully, I have all of the DVD's and was able to watch them later, but Hulu doesn't even have Breaking Up is Hard to Do. Rude. Thank you! I'm still shocked at how easy it's been to write all of these characters and it's fantastic to know that the readers feel none of them have been out-of-character. I freaking hate when characters go OOC, much as I would love to pretend Dylan never cared romantically about Kelly. Will respond to the other remark in private LOL.