Oh hey, thanks for reading! Quick reminder that I own none of these characters et. al.

The Party, Pt. 1

Dylan McKay didn't like when people described him as mysterious. He didn't like when people described him in general. The mystery surrounding him, however unwelcome, was understandable - a kid with seemingly no parental supervision, an anonymous hotel life, not to mention his proclivity for having fellow scene-goers blacklisted if they attempted to make his nighttime escapades public fodder. The town's bouncers and dealers were eager to stay in his good graces given the rumors that McKay Senior had serious mob ties (yet another whisper that surfaced the instant Dylan was out of earshot). Those things added to the allure of him but, no, they were not the source of his mystery.

The fact was that, despite having grown up with him, or watching him, the students, parents, and staff of West Beverly High never quite knew what to expect next from Dylan Michael McKay.

He would skip your class for a week, show up (late) for the midterm, and then pen a moving essay on the loss of individual identity in Animal Farm.

He would get into multiple altercations in the school parking lot one week leaving no clique excluded from his hostility but then every freshman would be abuzz with a blow by blow of how he stepped in to quietly stop a hazing.

At one point, he was reportedly seen canoodling with a very newly-divorced Mrs. Morris of the chemistry department, but when questioned by administration, he provided the names of all of the staff of the Bel-Age Hotel who would attest to seeing him reading in the hotel's lounge until the wee hours of the night in question.

In a sea full of spoiled kids who didn't bother to mask their disdain for their public school teachers, Dylan McKay would turn in a final exam with a small note at the bottom thanking you for your hard work this year.

The truth was, no one, Dylan McKay included, knew what his next move would be.

After spending most of his childhood trying not to rock the volatile boat that was his homelife, he hardly knew which of his actions were because he wanted to do them, and which were to avoid the wrath of someone. The neglect and trauma he had suffered were complex and most people never understood how deep they ran, how much they affected him still. There were few people he had let glimpse this pain and almost all of them shared a last name.

Those elite, carefully chosen few who knew him best knew that he liked what he liked, was indifferent to most everything else, and reserved deeply negative feelings for things like his father, wind chimes, and men who knocked around people weaker than them in order to feel powerful. Which, essentially, described his father.

Used to describe his father, he reminded himself as he struggled with his necktie in the hotel suite's mirror. The stint in prison had scared his father straight, or so he said. He finally realized what a gift it was to have a son and was determined to make up for lost time - another line Dylan had heard a dozen times in the last 24 hours.

The truth was, Dylan was still scared of Jack McKay. Scared of his hands which had roughed him up more than he cared to remember or recount. Scared of his words, which got uglier with drink and always carried a morsel of truth that made them all the more cruel. Scared of his eyes. He withered under those eyes.

Tonight was to be a grand fete to welcome his father back into society and it was all Dylan could do not to hide in the nearest closet lest his father lose his temper and humiliate him in front of his guests as he had been wont to do in the 'good old days'.

It was the thought of those memories that brought his mind to Brenda. She was the only person in his life who had met Jack and she had seen him in all his horrifying glory. She had seen the violence of his touch, heard the berating Dylan endured, witnessed first hand how it had set off a full body alarm that made it impossible for him to stop shaking. That is, until he wrapped his arms around her. And then the shaking had stopped. The deep inhalations of her scent had stopped the panicked, shallow breaths. That was the first time he had recovered from a Jack McKay encounter without several swallows of a burning amber liquid since he was 11 years old.

The thought of having her close at this party soothed his nerves palpably, enough that he managed to get a decent knot in his tie, although Brenda would probably drag him to the side to retie it anyway once she arrived.

Although it had been months since they had been physical, even longer since they had officially been a couple, Dylan knew that Brenda would be there tonight. The rest of the gang would show up expecting a wild party with the man who had once forced the Bel-Age rooftop pool to be drained when the sheer volume of champagne at his 1988 New Year's Eve shindig caused catastrophic damage to the pH levels of the water. Not Brenda. She'd mingle, maybe make nice to Jack, but she would make a point to search Dylan's eyes at every opportunity for any signs of panic or fear. She wouldn't just be there, she'd be there for him.

As the minutes crawled by with no signs of a single classmate, he continued to draw strength from that idea. Finally, he saw Kelly Taylor. He assumed Brenda wouldn't be far beind so he smiled and complimented her on a dress he honestly couldn't tell you the color of; his eyes didn't stop scanning the crowd for his ex.

"She didn't call you back? She's not coming. Her dad made a big deal…you know how it is," Kelly told him bluntly.

His blood ceased to pump at those words. Instead, a river of ice crept through his body. He was barely aware of his next words and movements but he found himself introducing Kelly to his father - he knew Jack would take over from there and regale her with exaggerated tales from a childhood that bore little to no resemblance to his own.

To the outside observer he stood in the circle smiling at more or less the appropriate times, if on a few seconds delay. Inside, he seethed. He mourned. He…he recognized that face.

To his shock, not one but two members of the Walsh family walked through the door. And just like that, the tension dissipated. He smiled widely as he walked toward her, taking in the short black dress that hugged her petite frame, the scooping neckline whose only decoration were delicate shoulders and a simple diamond necklace resulting in her neck looking long, graceful, and tempting as it ever had. In that moment, he wondered how he managed to live without her. In the next moment, he remembered that he wasn't given the choice.

"Bren, I'm so glad you're here. I thought you weren't coming," Dylan said as he approached them. He didn't even remember excusing himself from the other group. He then turned to face the middle-aged man who acted as mentor, advisor, and menace to him.

"It's good to see you here, sir. There's someone I'd like you both to meet." He turned to face to the group he had just left and Jack took that as an invitation to excuse himself and introduce himself to the people that had caused a seismic change in his son's whole bearing.

"Dad, this is Jim Walsh. Iris left him in charge of my finances last year and he has yet to bounce a single check." The men chuckled at the invitation. "And this, is Brenda Walsh." Dylan hesitated as to how exactly he would introduce her and, in that moment, he realized he wanted to be able to call her his other half more than any other title.

Jack McKay heard the pause and jumped in to save his son from what seemed to be an uncomfortable introduction. "Brenda, I've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally have a face to put to the facts. A beautiful face, at that."

Let it go, she told herself. Don't say it. I know you want to but don't. In true Brenda Walsh fashion, her internal voice of reason was overridden by a clear voice for justice.

"It's good to see you too, sir. And to finally meet you formally."

A beat passed in the group where each member of the quartet had a different expression on their face - one was confused, another resigned, another reddened but determined, the last was a succession of confusion then recognition then, finally, embarrassment.

"Right, I suppose that is a more accurate way to put it." Jack McKay had the decency to look sheepish. "I'm afraid the last time you saw me, I and my entire professional life was circling the drain. It can't have been a pretty sight. But I'm grateful to be here and to have you both here with Dylan and I. You only get one shot at a first impression and I've shot that to hell but hopefully tonight will show you there is more to ol' Jack McKay than what you saw then."

Brenda's face had grown steadily redder but her voice was clear when she responded, "Of course there is. I shouldn't have brought it up. From what I hear there's a lot that has changed for the better since that night."

The group dispersed on a good note when Jim was sequestered by an associate who was grateful to see another partygoer who hadn't run amiss of the IRS and Jack was called upon to greet a newcomer. Dylan offered Brenda a tour of the culinary offerings in the room.

"Actually, Dylan, I was hoping we could talk. Is there some place we could go?" Brenda saw Kelly's frequent glances in their direction but wasn't interested in any further socializing. She was on a mission.

"Of course, we'll got to my room. Mind if I grab a crab leg though? I got a tape stuck in the stereo earlier and I think it would do the trick."

Dylan bounced into the adjoining bedroom and perched on the edge of the full sized bed inside. His mood had improved dramatically having Brenda close by and he began to convince himself that this whole mess could be straightened out after all. Maybe she would be so happy about getting back together that he wouldn't have to tell her the whole story. The past is in the past, he'd say. Let's keep moving forward.

"Something wrong, Bren?" Since she came in she hadn't looked over at him or even approached him. She was looking at his assortment of belongings spread across the top of the dresser, lightly touching the discarded cuff links and bottle of cologne. She seemed to be memorizing them. She turned to face him with an unreadable expression.

"I'm really happy for you, Dylan. I'm glad that Jack is here and you're getting this chance with him." Dylan's smile returned hesitatingly as Brenda continued.

"To be honest, I wasn't going to come tonight. My father was worried about the scene and the kinds of associates of Jack's that may show up tonight."

Dylan didn't bother to hide the bitterness in his face nor in his voice. "Yeah, well, lucky for you, hardly anyone from the business showed up tonight. And here I thought Jim Walsh was the only one who didn't want to sully himself with a McKay."

Brenda's eyes narrowed at that. "Dylan, my father loves me and…"

"…And hates me. I got the memo, Bren. So why are you both here?" The hope that he had allowed to bloom in his chest began to wither, smothered by the reminders that Brenda's family thought she deserved better than an 18 year old alcoholic with a shady dad and a handsome face.

Her arms crossed in front of her, Brenda struggled to begin. Once she started though, she couldn't be stopped.

"You're unbelievable, you know. Your father spends a decade quashing you, leaving you, throwing you out. You hate the man. He drives you to self-destruct, I know, I've picked up the pieces with you. Yet here you are, in a suit on a Wednesday night, trying on cuff links, so eager to please him and ensure he has a great welcoming back into society. You -"

"-I finally have a chance with him, Brenda! He's here, he's got a girlfriend who doesn't look at me like I belong on the bottom of her shoe, and he wants to be a part of my life!" They were both yelling by now.

"You've got a $10 million dollar trust in your name and he's a penniless felon. But you trust him because he's your father and you want this relationship more than anything. Well I want it for you too, Dylan. If I were still your girlfriend I would be worried out of my mind, paranoid, scared of this violent man, but I would be right next to you, holding your hand and praying that Jack's intentions are pure! I would do that because I know it means everything to you."

"Except you're not because the mighty Jim Walsh thinks it's -"

"Stop it," she said with a finality that pierced his scathing mood. He stopped speaking but his eyes were still burning with rage.

"Don't you see, Dylan? You'd do anything for this man, despite everything he's done, because he's your father. Yet you expect me to continue to fracture my relationship with mine. My father is not perfect and the double standards between my brother and I are infuriating but he acts the way he does because he loves me and wants to protect me."

"Yeah, from me."

"He was worried!"

"Brenda, he threatened me with criminal charges! With homelessness! For harboring a minor, for being with you!"

The declaration brought Brenda to a standstill. Her eyes widened and her immediate response was a choked whisper.

"Dylan, that's…horrible." She took a moment to recover from the suddenness of the revelation. "That is horrible," she restated more firmly. "I can't imagine what you must have felt when he said that."

She paused, choosing her next words carefully.

"Dylan, what do you think would have happened if my father had followed through with his threat?"

He blanched. "I just told you. They would have seized my house, frozen my assets, called the cops and pressed charges of statutory rape."

Brenda closed her eyes and put out her hand, as though to stop those words from hitting her. She shuddered and continued her line of thought, "Dylan, where do you think you would have gone?"

Silence.

"I…I would have had nowhere to go."

His eyes were guarded as though he knew where she was headed but he refused to look down that road for himself. And so she continued again with a certain gentleness.

"After everything you've been through with us, do you honestly believe that? Do you think my mother would have allowed you to be indigent, living on the street?"

He bristled and shouted in stark contrast to Brenda's measured tone, "And what if I didn't want anything to do with them?"

She laid a hand on a lapel, over his heart, and looked at him with compassion but also resignation. "Then that would have been your choice but Dylan, you would have never been alone. My father was out of line and I am furious that he put you in that position. I have a lot of things to be angry about but it doesn't make him any less my father."

She turned to the dresser and placed something down on it. It was small enough that the pad of her finger covered it entirely as she took a deep breath, steeling herself to utter her next words. After a pause she looked up into the mirror and directly into his eyes - blue meeting brown in the reflection. Both were glassy, but her tears had overflowed.

"You might hate my father, and given all that has happened and what you just told me, I can understand why that would be. I don't hate your father but I don't trust him and I am terrified that he is going to hurt you again. But I would never ask you to sacrifice your relationship with him because of it." She turned back to face the man she had once trusted with her entire being and voiced the words she had been reciting all evening in her mind.

"I have loved you since I was 16 years old and there were times I thought that this was it, this is the man I would leave my family to make a new home with. But tonight I realized that you don't love me like that. This year has left me wondering whether you love me at all anymore. And so I'm going to leave this party, go back to my family, and wish you and Kelly the best of luck. I'm done trying to prove my love to you. I got the memo."

She took one final look at him, wiped her eyes, and left the room with her chin up. Dylan was left with his reflection and a small, glittering half of a golden heart on the vanity.

Yikes! I know, so much angst. While this will eventually become a Brenda/Dylan love story, I really wanted to first make it a Brenda love story because lord know this character deserves it. The most traumatic part of watching this story line unfold wasn't the betrayal & yucky sneaking around all season but the loss of a strong female lead to look up to. So buckle up - our journey back to a BD pairing won't be as the crow flies but I promise we'll get there.

Regarding update schedules - I don't have one! I've written a few chapters & my rule is that as I write another one, I'll publish another one. But with a family, career, and unmitigated ADHD, it may be sporadic (apologies to Cher Horowitz).