"The character didn't really love Kelly; she loved Brenda." - Chuck Rosin, 3x30 episode commentary.
Thank you to Crystal and starlite22 for the ideas for this chapter.
xx
There were two ways to regard the situation.
Firstly and most importantly, callbacks were done and thank God for it. She had achieved a leading role in a production which would see the stage return of West End alum and star of the silver screen, Colin Firth. She screamed for a good ten minutes after receiving the call from her agent, promptly calling Dylan when she had somewhat calmed down.
Brandon learnt of the news in a three-way call with Valerie, the latter whose crush on the portrayer of Fitzwilliam Darcy had strengthened with his subsequent roles as Jamie Bennett and Henry Dashwood. Equally jealous and ecstatic, Valerie's mixed emotions spilled out without reserve. She asked if there might be a possibility for her own last-minute addition to the West End; only for that particular play, of course, for Valerie lacked the desire to become an actress herself.
Brenda's own excitement dampened considerably with the director's request to meet twice during the week before New Year's. She knew the request was more of an obligation and so, bearing the immense opportunity in mind, she regrettably told the McKay siblings that she would be unable to travel.
They were understandably disappointed, but accepted that Brenda could not skip out in the midst of a job, particularly one with such impact to her blossoming international standing.
Between the introductory meetings, practicing with Shane, resuming her assistance in Howie's pub and preparing for the LA gang's visit, she barely found time to speak to her brother.
Brandon's own agenda was quite busy, as he had begun interviewing and helping Kelly in wedding plans. Each time he and Brenda scheduled a phone call, something would come up for either that would require a raincheck.
Dylan, however, ensured they maintained their evening calls whilst he was away, even if for only a few minutes before the exhausted Brenda fell asleep.
He would be home soon, she knew. For both of them, it wasn't soon enough.
She had spent the morning in a thorough discussion on the director's vision for the production. It would be in its freshman season, which would either make or break the performance. If they succeeded, Brenda would be locked into her contract for a year. If the show flopped, she would soon be out again at callbacks.
"Of course it's gonna succeed, Bren. You're in it," Dylan had told her when she voiced her concern.
"But I've never acted with someone of this caliber before, Dylan. It's Colin Firth! Colin bloody Firth! I can't tell you how many times my old flatmate from RADA and I used to watch his Darcy. I mean, he's acted with Eileen Atkins, Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman, for God's sake."
"And you're Brenda Walsh, babe. You have more talent in one thumb than many actors do in their entire palm. This isn't your first rodeo. It's just your first with 'Colin bloody Firth.'"
"Oh, Dylan, you really do have the worst English accent," she cringed.
"Yeah, I know. Wachinski keeps telling me that. We can't all excel at mimicry, Bren, and we both know your French accent hasn't always been top-notch. Point is, I know you'll rock it. You just gotta have the faith yourself."
He clearly hadn't heard the tale of her first play on the West End, when she nearly knocked over an entire set in her rush to get on the stage. And that was without Colin bloody Firth standing on the other end.
She finished the last of her shopping, hitting up the post-Christmas sales for the friends whose gifts she had not yet found. She interacted in the chat room created for only the females of her group, in which Kelly currently sent a handful of photos featuring the handsome Colin Firth and Andrea gave Brenda the link to a detailed article on his life story.
They had been forced to create the separate communicative when David requested that his sister stop sending pictures of "some guy I don't know" in the group's main email.
Kelly complied, but Donna persuaded her girls to coax their father into watching with them the story of Henry Dashwood and his long-lost daughter, Daphne.
That had brought David to tears, she wrote, but he would, of course, never admit it.
Nearing her gate, Brenda halted upon the first note of a familiar voice behind her.
Familiar and yet, long unheard.
"Is that Brenda I see?" It trilled, dragging out her name in its usual theatrical way.
"Oh my God."
First, Dylan had shown up unannounced, then her parents and now -
"Well, don't just stand there, dear. Do give me a hug."
Brenda offered a warm embrace, clutching onto flowing silk that draped over the woman in soft layers. Textured curls in dark auburn brushed against her cheek. The fragrance of fresh pineapple either wafted through the breeze, or carried through the imagination.
In an entire twelve years, only two people from her previous life as an American had visited her home more than once. A third had lived with her for nearly two years and recently moved in again. One trip to California and suddenly, everyone she knew seemed to step out of the shadows into the wintry streets of London.
"I don't understand, Iris. Why on earth are you here?"
Iris McKay emitted a pleasant, tinkling laugh. The flick of her wrist jangled a multitude of bracelets, each clinking out a melody of their own.
The last time Brenda had seen Dylan's mother, she brought his little sister to temporarily stay with them when they were still adjusting to their living arrangements.
They had been two individuals in their early twenties, taking care of a teenager beginning her rebellious phase and yet, their relationship held stronger during Erica's stay than it did after she left.
"There's this wonderful little mindfulness retreat I read about in Dyffryn Nantlle." Her pronunciation of the Welsh valley, one accent Brenda could not master as hard as she tried - numerous times with her old friend Euston Vaughn, in fact - seemed effortless. "I told Cindy about my plans to attend at the beginning of the year and she suggested that I come to see you, to give you this box in person."
"Is that my Dylan box?" She surveyed the outside with a furrowed brow.
It was much smaller than she remembered.
"No, it's a box of some ancient gemstones I found at a flea market in Taiwan that simply had to be given into the possession of a Scorpio. Not just any Scorp, mind you. It is rather peculiar for you to assume it'd be your box of memories. Unless -" Eyes which appeared to contain every sliver of peace remaining in the world peered directly into Brenda's. "Unless you have reignited your dormant passion with my wayward son!"
Okay, so her mother hadn't revealed to Dylan's the reunion of their respective children, as Brenda had assumed.
Just one more day. One more day and everyone would thankfully know because evidently, the universe kept trying to topple their carefully hidden surprise with parents who had something against picking up a phone before showing up at their child's doorstep.
"Thank you, Iris. These are stunning." Brenda sifted through the box of jewels, avoiding the topic she knew would now be on Iris' mind.
"Where is that boy?" Iris casually inquired, looking around Brenda's home.
"He's in Copenhagen," she replied absentmindedly.
"Oh yes, that's right, with Erica. She did tell me he would be flying in. I am tremendously proud of that young woman, you know. She has singularly changed her life around. Dylan has, as well."
"Wish I'd been there for her when she really needed someone," Brenda sighed. In giving up Dylan, she had also given up both his sister and his mother.
Cindy, on the other hand, didn't so easily let people go.
"Can I get you something, Iris? Tea, maybe?"
"Ginger would be lovely, if you have it."
"Oh, I have a wide selection of teas."
"Yes, I suppose you would."
Iris seated herself on the sofa, patting the space beside her with the careful hold of a dainty teacup in her other hand.
"Come, come. My cards showed an overflow of felicity heading your way. I was unaware that happiness would be due to my son."
"You did a reading on me?"
"Of course I did. I wouldn't let a silly little thing like a breakup between you and Dylan affect the care I have for you and for your family in general, even if it has been quite a while since you've responded to any of my letters."
"I'm sorry, Iris. I just got -"
"Busy, I'm sure." Iris waved her hand. "Your mother tells me you're a star of the stage. It isn't at all surprising, Brenda. I predicted you would become a renowned success. Besides, who would want to keep contact with the mother of an ex-boyfriend? That you did so at all is both unusual and appreciated."
"But you aren't just Dylan's mother, Iris. You know I also care about you, immensely. I'm just," Brenda bit her lower lip, "I'm just terrible at keeping in touch with people, I guess."
"Especially when you were dealing with something of great magnitude." Iris nodded knowingly.
"How - how did you know?" Brenda swallowed, aware that Iris's statement implied more than the unacceptable disappearance of her twin.
"My dear, the cards always know." Iris winked, setting her cuppa on the table. "The link between your soul and the soul of my son's was forged with a material which cannot be permanently severed. You two would have never been able to spend your lives apart. It is almost commendable that you managed to do so for as long as you did, if - I must say - exceptionally exasperating. Fate is nothing to mess around with, Brenda." Her hand, softened from decades of proper care, took hold of Brenda's. "I have known since I first saw your passion for his well being that the spirits would always bring you two together, regardless of any path my son chose to take. I do hope your inquiry about your box means he has finally fought for - and once again secured - your heart."
Brenda smiled over her cup. She didn't necessarily abide by the New Age beliefs of Iris, though they were often enjoyable to hear. She sometimes read her horoscope in the daily broadsheet; she did not swear by it. She did, however, think that in this instance, the other woman whom she greatly respected might have closed in on some aspect of truth.
If a poor actress had not lost her spot on tour due to an unfortunate incident and Shane hadn't pressed that she attend in her stead, Brenda would have been unlikely to return to California or to Dylan's sphere.
If Brandon hadn't been found, tour or no tour, she wouldn't have bothered to go. If she hadn't been on a self-imposed break at the time, she would have lacked the availability for the tour in the first place, even to see him.
Whilst they did seem ridiculous at times, perhaps Iris' affirmations held some inkling of possibility. Brenda did like to think her latest fortune to be true.
"I see." Iris' own smile leapt across her face. "Then is it too early to welcome you back into the family? What little family we do have, that is."
"Maybe a little too early," Brenda laughed. "It's only been a month."
"Well, we all start somewhere." Iris gently patted her hand.
A knock on the door startled them both. Iris' hand flew to her chest. Another melodic laugh followed.
Shane and Katie typically let themselves into her home with their respective sets of keys. Levi always rang the bell. Sophie called first. Vee just yelled outside her window. Benji rarely dropped in at all.
The Americans were due to arrive the next day. Confused, she continued to speak to Iris, ignoring the unknown caller on the other side of the door in the hopes that they would simply go away.
It was rather rude for a salesman to pop by at eight o'clock in the evening.
The knock became more persistent, dancing around on the other side of her door in a melody left unplayed since adolescence.
"Steve? You're early." She immediately bent to embrace Madeline who, after greeting Brenda, dumped her backpack onto a chair and headed for the back garden. Brenda realized she would be searching for the neighbor's cat, whom she had developed somewhat of a camaraderie with during her week in London, resulting in her asking Steve for one of her own.
Unfortunately for Madeline, her father was not overly fond of cats. Brenda had decided that she would discuss with Dylan their owning one for Madeline to play with when she visited - for Steve, like Brenda, had promised to stop into London on more than one occasion.
He also reminded her of her own summer vow, which she supposed she would still need to maintain.
"The itinerary you sent me said you'd be arriving tomorrow afternoon."
"Change of plans. The Yamamotos had to leave to check on Izumi. It didn't make sense for us to go with them just to leave soon after, so I got us an earlier flight. Shane gave me his number in case we arrived while you were in rehearsal. I didn't feel comfortable taking Mads on the subway - oops, I mean the tube - and a taxi's way too damn expensive, even for me. This is okay, right?"
"It's not that it isn't okay, Steve; it's just unexpected, is all."
He glanced around, noticing Iris' travel pack sitting in the corner.
"Do you have someone here, Bren?" The lift of his pale eyebrow accompanied a wicked grin. "A guy? Maybe the owner of that Angels cap?"
"What Angels cap?" she blanched.
"The one sitting under your bed. Thought you weren't into baseball."
"Outside of the Twins," she reminded him, adding, "You looked under my bed?"
"Mads lost her coloring book. It fell under there when she was watching that movie with you. Found it on our last morning here and there was the cap, right beside it. Tell me, Bren, what are the odds of some random Londoner being an Angels fan?" Steve tilted his head, moving his hands in a pitching motion as he spoke. "Baseball, yeah, they could be a baseball fan, I guess. We can see the World Cup on the sports station, so maybe they can see baseball. But c'mon, Bren, rooting for the same exact team your ex has been a big fan of since he was a kid? Now, that's weird."
"Daddy!" Madeline yelled from the other room. "Somebody is asking what my sign is. Does she mean the bus stop sign on the corner?"
"You don't take the bus, Mads," he began to holler back. He paused, mid-explanation. The lightbulb noticeably spinning around in his head nearly exploded out onto the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
"Someone wants to know my daughter's sign, Brenda? Now, lemme think, who do we know who goes around asking strangers about their signs?"
"Little Stevie Sanders." Iris popped out of the living room, arms extended. "Why, I haven't seen you since your whole class came to Dylan's fifth birthday party. You look just like your father did then."
"You kinda saw me at graduation," he pointed out, grinning as he returned Iris' hug.
"The whole class came to Dylan's birthday party? He must've hated that," Brenda laughed.
"He certainly did. He ran off to his room before we even brought out the cake. I told Jack it was a terrible idea, but connections, connections, it was always about the connections. Even used his own son's birthday party to network. They do say to not speak ill of the dead or, more accurately, the twice-deceased. I suppose I will have to leave all of that in the past."
Iris engaged in a catch up session with Steve, answering his questions about her tranquil life in Hawaii. Upon hearing of Iris' home atop a pineapple mountain, Madeline asked if she, too, could live on a pineapple mountain. Steve explained to her that the places where she wished to reside lacked in pineapple mountains, to which Madeline replied she would simply need to build one of her own.
"I don't get it, Bren," he told her when she coaxed him into helping her clean up the place.
Or, rather, Brenda cleaned. Steve talked.
"First, Mads wants to move to Paris because she's convinced she's the grand duchess Anastasia reincarnated, or whatever. That's Don's fault, you know. She let her watch that movie way too many times. Then, Mads has her heart set on London because of you and this idea that she's secretly Annie Parker - that one's on Hannah, she was addicted to Lindsay Lohan's stuff for awhile. Oh, but wait, Mads also wouldn't mind living with Mama and Papa Walsh Down Under, just because she saw that movie with the Olsen twins where they stereotype everything. That one's all Kel - well, Silver, really, but it happened at Kel's."
Steve handed Brenda a roll of paper towels to sop up the Windex streaming down the bathroom mirror.
"You show her Madeline; she's back on Paris. We go over to Japan - which is beautiful, by the way, never knew it looked anything like that, you should go sometime; she decides she actually wants to live there. Dylan's mom talks about her pineapple mountain, so now Mads is determined to live on a pineapple mountain. What the fuck is wrong with staying in LA? Why is my daughter so determined to leave me? She isn't even ten!"
"I doubt Maddie sees it as leaving you. She just caught the travel bug at an early age. It happens to the best of us." Brenda hung up the guest towels, adjusting them to her preference.
"Yeah, you should know," he murmured bitterly, using the edge of her bathtub as a seat.
"Hey, my parents started it when they moved us halfway across the country."
"To California, Bren. Greatest place on the planet."
"Sure, Steve." She shook her head, watching her disbelief reflect off of the shining mirror.
"I blame Janet. She was always talking about us taking Mads around the world when she grew up." His lip quivered. "We could've at least gone to visit her grandparents when she was still here, but I let work get in the way."
"Oh come on, Steve. You are the farthest thing from a workaholic."
"Okay, but I could've easily declined that interview with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and taken my wife and kid to Kitakyushu, instead. I mean, the Beverly Beat still went under. It's not like it saved our business, or anything."
"Stop it, Steve." She placed a hand firmly on her hip, the other waving around a soaked rag. "Janet loved you, okay? I didn't know her all that well, but the few times we talked, I could hear how much she did. And I know you felt the same about her. You are a fantastic father, I heard you were a wonderful husband and this is not the Steve Sanders I know and love sitting in front of me, so snap out of it, dammit!"
Jaw hung so low that a cellar spider could crawl in unnoticed, Steve slowly nodded.
"Yeah. You're right. Sorry, Bren. It's the holidays. Always do something to me. And now this thing with Rush; I mean, we aren't close at all and there's been times that I've almost hated the guy, but he's still my dad." He wiped at his cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm just not ready to lose another person in my life. Thinking of Mads jetting off somewhere on her own is hard enough."
"Well, first of all, you have years before that happens. Secondly, next time you want to beat yourself up over something that isn't true, you better call me. And if you can't reach me, call Bran. If you can't get him, try Andrea, then Don, David, Dylan; keep going down the list until you're able to talk to someone. Like I said, you're never alone. You have a shit ton of people that care about you just as much as you care about them. You can even call my parents. We're your family, Steve, and when you hurt, we hurt, too." She tightened the cap on the Clorox bottle. "Have you considered therapy? It might help."
"I haven't been to therapy since my parents split, Bren."
"Might be a good idea. It helped me, it helped Kel and it's been helping Bran a lot. Just promise me you'll think about it."
"Yeah, okay, I'll talk to Austin. His girlfriend is a therapist." Steve's features softened into his usual crooked grin. "So, speaking of not being alone. When I walked back into your place, definitely didn't expect to see Iris. Wanna explain that?"
"Oh, trust me, I cannot even begin to explain that."
"I dunno, Bren. Your ex's mother just randomly shows up at your place and you have no idea why? Could've just said you invited her for New Year's, too, but okay, you honestly expect me to believe you have no idea."
"I mean, she is close with my mom, so there is that. And she's on her way to a retreat in Wales. It isn't that much of a stretch to stop here first."
"Right," he replied, unconvinced. "Your ex's mom and an Angels cap, both hanging out at your place. Very suspicious."
Madeline helped Brenda to assemble the tray of cookie dough in Brandon's favorite flavor. Spooning out circles onto the parchment sheet, she hummed a song Brenda recognized from an alternative band of the nineties. That would be David's doing, she assumed.
Iris listened to Steve's own life story, occasionally inquiring about his mother whom she had known only through the newsletter issued to the parents of Dylan's fellow kindergartners. Rush Sanders, on the other hand, had involved himself in several functions organized by the McKays, until Iris chose to leave and the late Jack McKay spiraled into the man who spent the peak of his son's teenage years imprisoned.
Hearing the key turn in the lock, Brenda froze.
"Bren, we're ho - here!"
He must have noticed the luggage sitting near the door.
"In the kitchen!" she yelled.
"Why does Dylan have a key, Brenda? Has he even been to your place before?" Steve paused in his speech, narrowing his gaze. "McKay, I thought you told Donna you'd be here tomorrow!" he called out.
"Kinda like you, huh, Steve?" she muttered, glaring down at the dough.
Slowly peeking into the kitchen, Dylan's eyes enlarged at the sight before him.
"Uh, Bren, what is my mother doing hanging out in ou - your kitchen?"
"It's nice to see you, too, sweetheart." Iris shook her head.
"Not what I meant, Iris."
"Hi, Mom!" A whirl of bright red launched itself onto Iris, almost scattering the cards she had tried to use on Steve.
"Mom?" asked Dylan with a raised eyebrow.
"Eh, she's been a lot more like a mom to me than Suzanne has. I haven't even seen her since they threw hers and Kevin's thieving asses in jail." She extracted herself from the older woman, turning to squeeze Brenda with just as much energy. "Bren! God, it's so great to see you!"
"Erica! Hi, sweetie. It's been ages."
"Yeah, no kidding. You forget how to reply to a letter, or something?" Wrapping a protective arm around Brenda's shoulders, Erica showed off her height simply by standing beside the much shorter woman. Her gaze trailed over Steve's figure. "Damn, Sanders, you're lookin' fine."
"So are you, Little Mc."
Dylan smacked his friend's shoulder.
"Ow! Dylan! C'mon, it's not my fault your sister is hot."
"She's my sister, man. And she's got a girlfriend. Rein it in."
Brenda longed to throw herself on her boyfriend, to show him physically just how much she had missed him. Instead, Madeline jumped onto her godfather and declared the same.
"Okay, we've got McKay's mother and McKay's sister showing up at Bren's. Plus, Dylan's got a key to her place. And there's that Angels cap."
Brandon would have figured it out instantly. Steve's features displayed intense concentration for the next three minutes, as if trying to solve for the value of y in a difficult algebraic problem.
Even David could have pieced it together in less time.
"Oh my God. Oh my God!" He pointed back and forth between the two of them, his jaw flapping about. "Oh my God!"
"Iris, Erica, keep an eye on Madster here. Oh, and Mom, can we get Bren's box back? Thanks." Handing off his goddaughter to the two redheads, Dylan took his girlfriend by the waist and their friend by the arm.
"You two are totally fucking!" Steve exclaimed when they withdrew to the quiet of the master bedroom, away from Madeline's innocent ears.
"Actually, Steve -" she started.
"- it's a bit more than fucking," Dylan finished.
"A lot more," she added.
"Yeah, a lot more," he agreed. "Like, a monster truckful more. An 'I'm insanely in love with this woman, she's the partner I choose to cross the spaces with in this game of Life and I'll fight anyone who tries to stand in our way' more."
"Sure took you long enough, McKay!" Equally flabbergasted and triumphant, Steve high-fived Dylan, then began digging around under the bed. Withdrawing the cap bearing a bold red A underneath a blue and silver halo, he showed it to his brother. "This is yours, right? Bro, did you move in with Bren?"
Dylan's chin lifted up, then down and then up again. Pulling Brenda into his side, he nuzzled his nose into her neck.
"And all this time, I thought you were in Baja."
"I mean, I never said I was moving to Baja. You guys just assumed."
"Did you two get back together when Bren was in California?"
"No," she shook her head. "Dylan flew out here after I came back."
"You didn't honestly expect me to let her go again, did you?" Dylan slid both hands to her hips.
"So, you came out here, when we thought you were in Baja. Again."
"Well, I actually was in Baja that time. I just took a detour over to London before heading back to BH."
Steve seated himself on the bed.
"Who else knows?" he demanded, jumping up with the kind of horror that Brenda decided had likely stemmed from the realization that sitting on the bed she shared with Dylan might not be such a great idea.
"Well, my parents do."
"Erica knows."
"Iris knows."
"Iris knows?" Dylan shifted to look at Brenda. "Before I walked in?"
"Your mother has amazing perception and, well, I might've accidentally slipped it out."
"Ah." Dropping his latched arms around Brenda's chest, he smiled. "Let's see, the whole London crew knows. A couple guys on the Baja team know, but that's only 'cause I had to start working remotely."
"By the 'whole London crew,' do you mean Shane Wachinski?" Steve crossed his arms.
"Yeah, Shane knows."
"Oh, Wachinski definitely knows."
"I sat in the guy's car, twice! and he never said a thing!"
"To be fair, I asked him not to," Brenda explained.
"And I'm guessing Brando knows," Steve huffed. "I'm gonna kill him for keeping something like this from me."
"Ah, Steve, actually, my brother might be the one to kill you." Brenda ducked her head into her sleeve.
Sliding his hand in a circular motion down her arm, Dylan chuckled.
"Are you telling me that Bran doesn't even know?" Steve's shock made itself apparent for the third time. "Brenda, you tell Brandon everything," he paused, "don't you?"
"Usually, yeah."
"Bren wanted to be sure we were solid again before telling anyone. In our defense, Jim and Cindy just showed up one day."
"So did Iris."
"And Erica never rests until she figures things out."
"Plus, we definitely didn't anticipate that Clare would -"
Steve's head shot upward.
"I really hope this Clare person you're talking about is someone from your job who shares her name with a bunch of chicks."
"You didn't tell him?" Dylan whispered.
"It didn't come up," she quietly responded.
"Tell me what?" Steve failed to conceal his annoyance.
His face rapidly paled when they told him of their run-in with Clare Arnold and of her romantic attachment to Brenda's own ex, Graham Dixon.
"So my ex knows, Brenda's ex knows, your whole group here in London knows, the Walsh parents know, your mom knows, your sister knows and now I know," Steve summed up.
He then proceeded to belt out a chorus that merely repeated "I knew it and I told you so for years and years and years; London waited for you" whilst poorly trying to sound like Billy Joel, until Dylan requested that their friend cease the singing or come up with more verses. He insisted that Steve had to stop disgracing the style of Billy Joel either way.
Steve, who believed himself a much better singer than the people around him knew to be true, stuck out his tongue in reply.
"Yes, you do know. But no one else in the gang knows, Steve. Val doesn't even know. And they aren't gonna find out until we've planned to tell them. Got it?"
"Brenda, come on! You know I can't keep a secret to save my life."
"Well, you're going to have to, for one more day. Otherwise, that thing you told me about Andrea in high school? I'll just have to tell Brandon."
"What about Andrea in high school?" A flummoxed Dylan glanced at his girlfriend.
"Are you blackmailing me, Bren?" Steve scowled.
"That depends, Stevie. Is it necessary for me to blackmail you?"
"Bro, aren't you gonna do something?" He flapped his arms helplessly.
"Don't know what you want me to do, man." Dylan shrugged. "But if it goes against my girl's wishes, then fuhgeddaboudit."
"Oh fucking jeez. Some friend. You McKays are lethal."
"Still a Walsh," she pointed out.
"For now." Caressing her side, Dylan smirked.
"Okay, okay, I'll keep quiet about your damn secret," Steve glowered. "You can tell McKay if you have to, Bren, but it never leaves this room."
"Steve made out with Andrea in high school," she told Dylan, instigating in him the baffled reaction shared by her when Steve had divulged his secret. "Yeah, when they studied for the SAT's, apparently." Anticipating his next question, she nodded, confirming their standing as the only two who knew. Steve then confused the couple with the confession that he had told Andrea's ex-husband on the occasion of Hannah's birth, with Brenda wondering how he possibly felt that was a suitable comment to make.
Dylan's hand looped around hers, his lips finding sanctuary behind her ear.
"But that isn't all, Dyl." She wrapped her other hand around the nape of his neck, tickling her fingers along the soft flesh that she had missed immensely. "See, because a deal is a deal and I'm definitely going to be snogging you when that ball drops -"
"- I have to kiss her again tomorrow night," Steve finished, flopping backward onto the bed into the collection of multicolored plush throw pillows which Brenda had accumulated over the years.
-x
There were rumours in 2011 of Colin Firth returning to the West End stage. Sadly, I do not believe this transpired. Illumination will now play with real life a bit, since Colin's return is a few years prior to when he was allegedly in talks.
Maddie is truly such a joy to write. I continue to be grateful that you all enjoy the writing for her as much as I enjoy creating it.
Crystal - Steve's arc in the later seasons is my favourite. He's also the only one besides David whose story I continued to care about up until the end. Whenever I bother to rewatch the last two seasons, it's primarily for them. (It didn't help that my main girls were gone, by that point.)
Thank you for the reviews, follows, favourites, discourse, etc, etc!