Part II.

Catch the Wind is the property of Donovan.

Bag tucked safely under his arm, Brandon boards the bus with a few slow steps. He didn't need to be on it to register that he's going home today. That was clear after the conversation that just happened. After the strange good-bye, and the subtle looks of guilt, why should he have expected anything different? Kelly thought it best that the charade should end and told him so this morning right after breakfast. He could barely piece the words together since he was so tired from getting no sleep last night. She said it was nice, that she had always wanted it, and that it couldn't happen again. Maybe he wasn't the reason he couldn't piece it together. Last night said a lot, too, and not just with words.

He spies Kelly in the middle of the vehicle. She is trying to stuff a carry-on into the overhead compartment. Her hair is in a neat golden braid and she's back in her professional clothes. She looks amazing. It is interesting to think of her in high school, with the red miniskirts and the revealing blouses, in comparison to her now, with the sharp dress suits and long floral skirts. Whatever she was wearing, she'd be going back to Dylan today. He confessed that he'd always desired to be with her too. That wouldn't keep her out of Dylan's arms. He sighs and starts down the aisle.

"Hey...Brandon!" whispers a familiar voice from the left.

Brandon turns to see Clare patting the seat next to her. Unbelievable. He saw her head off with her father a couple minutes ago.

"Sit," encourages Clare.

"Uh....where's your dad?" asks Brandon.

"Please," sighs Clare. "After the embarrassing stunts he pulled during what was to be a relaxing, possibly raunchy weekend, I told him to go ahead without me."

"Couldn't bare to be in a first-class limo with good old Dad, huh?" says Brandon.

"I'd rather be on the bus with people who watch MTV," answers Clare. "Specifically those with testosterone."

'That gives you a wide range of choices, then," provides Brandon, gesturing around the bus.

"Did I not say...raunchy, a few seconds ago?" says Clare, flashing him a smile.

"Um," says Brandon, shifting his gaze.

"Weekend's not technically over," sing-songs Clare, patting the seat once more.

"Ah!" yelps Kelly, shielding her face.

"Excuse me," says Brandon, returning Clare's smile. "I believe my girlfriend's being attacked by a bag."

Clare stares at Kelly from her seat. She grabs a magazine and shrugs.

"Looks like Balenciaga," mutters Clare.

Leaving her to do her own magazine shopping, Brandon approaches Kelly and manages to effortlessly lift the bag that is wedged between Kelly's chest and the headrest of the seat. He sets it into the compartment and closes it. Kelly massages her forehead and grins.

"Using the good ol' superego there," says Brandon.

"It's Sunday," laughs Kelly. "Don't throw psych terms at me. But, thank you."

"My apologies," says Brandon. "Are you sitting alone?"

"I guess not, if you're not sick of me," says Kelly.

They take their seats, Brandon letting Kelly have the window. He doesn't stare directly at her, only at her reflection in the glass. She is obviously thinking something, her head down. Everytime he tries to do the same the image of leaning into her and kissing her would trump his thoughts. He'd hate to be thinking this when Dylan's around. It was all supposed to be so harmless. Kelly would escort him to a few events, educational and a little stuffier than either one of them is used to, and then she would go home and be with her boyfriend. So not complicated. But why, when he hears the boyfriend, does he immediately picture himself? The line is more blurred, as bewildering as the whole situation is for the two of them. They can talk, and talk, and talk, though it didn't erase the kiss.

"So you must be glad to be rid of Josh Richland as your cabin mate," says Kelly after a long breath.

He wonders what was behind that breath, decides to keep things light anyway.

"Yes, we had a name for guys like him in Boy Scouts," says Brandon.

"Yeah?" prompts Kelly.

"Jerks," supplies Brandon.

Kelly chuckles. "Was it just his attitude, or was he messy or..."

"No," interjects Brandon. "I was a little cleaner than him. Better bathroom manners."

"Hmmm, well, the toilet seat is always up at the McKay residence," mumbles Kelly.

She clears her throat, and Brandon wagers that's an indication that she'd like to discuss the owner of that residence.

"I...I was thinking I should tell him," shares Kelly.

"Kel, I can't let you do that," insists Brandon. "No, I got you into this, and was the one who kissed..."

"It takes two to kiss, Brandon," notes Kelly.

"Yeah, it'd be pretty hard with one," kids Brandon.

Kelly playfully hits his shoulder, Brandon smiling. The bus driver hops on and gets behind the wheel. People wrestle anxiously, fiddling with the seatbelts or handrests, Brandon more anxious than any of them. He'd known Dylan for years and there were times when they were as close as brothers. Dylan saved his life on their camping trip two years ago. Brandon was standing on a rocky ledge, and slipped when he lost his footing. It was so scary having no control over where he landed. Once Kelly told him about their kiss, there'd be no control over what he would lose. He could even lose the both of them, which would be the most brutal blow. Kelly pats his hand.

"Let me," whispers Kelly. "Trust me...we've dealt with drama before. I'll do it at the right time."

Brandon presses his hands together. "I'm not sure if there is a right time."

She faces the window, her reflection more thoughtful than before. Once the bus starts its journey, he can feel the twists and turns under his body, every one of them.

II.

"What is this?" cries Nat. "Bringing foreign food into my place?"

Brandon apologetically holds up the aluminum foil-covered plate that he left in her room. Kelly managed to scarf down hers on the way down, when Brandon was asleep. The idea of him seeing her with barbeque sauce on her lips wasn't exactly thrilling to her. He had a habit of looking at her throughout the drive. She found it more calming than upsetting. If she was going through this, she wasn't going through it alone.

"Sorry, Nat," apologizes Brandon. "Know what? I'll take a Megaburger to go."

"With extra onions?" jabs Nat.

"Sure," says Brandon, with a pained grin. "I'm not kissing anybody tonight."

Without hesitating, she hopes that's the truth and catches herself. Ugh. No, it's only natural. Nat didn't have any clue about Lucinda. In fact, nobody did. There is a nagging part of her that wishes she were clueless too, believing that he is single. Kelly sets her bag on the center seat of the Peach Pit row of stools. It had gotten weird being the girlfriend of one of the owners. She loves the Pit, and that Dylan had a hand in saving it, but it demanded a lot of time from him. Nat started to let her go to the backroom just so she could get a conversation going with him.

"Burger in a box," announces Nat, handing Brandon his order.

"Swanky service," says Brandon.

"Nothing beats my permanent employee of the month," says Nat, nodding to Brandon Walsh's framed shirt on the opposite wall.

"I think that's some subtle hint," kids Kelly, elbowing Brandon.

"Hey, if it were up to me I'd be up to my ears in tuna melts instead of Task Force initiatives, but the Chancellor has other ideas," says Brandon.

"Eh, get outta here," says Nat, lightly hitting Brandon with a towel.

"What's with all the hitting?" groans Brandon as he touches his waist.

"I'll get Dylan for you, Kelly," says Nat.

"Thanks," says Kelly.

Nat disappears through the side door and Kelly sits on the stool next to her bag. Brandon takes his time shouldering his luggage and food containers. He seems pretty hesitant to go. It's sweet and maybe a little necessary. He should really get a move on, however. She knows his parents are expecting him, and he was nice enough to drop her off here once the bus reached campus.

"I'll be fine," assures Kelly.

"Mind if I come by the beach house later?" says Brandon. "Check on you?"

"That'd be okay," says Kelly.

And that's mainly because she wouldn't mind seeing him again. Kelly fiddles with the blouse of her suit. There's an ache near where her necklace is hanging. It may be because the shirt is too tight or because her heart is anticipating what's coming. She knows the suit fits well so it must be the second reason.

"We'll always have the woods," jokes Brandon.

Kelly nods and smiles, watches him go through the Peach Pit entrance and out of sight. She winds the necklace around her wrist. Dylan appears, pen raised above a writing pad. He smirks when he raises his eyes. She can't return the smirk. It's too awkward. She tries, a bit.

"What'll you have?" asks Dylan.

"My boyfriend, who I missed a whole lot," replies Kelly.

Dylan comes to the other side of the bar and hugs her to him, kissing the side of her head. He accidentally kisses her earring with the second brush of his lips. That brings a small amount of lightness to how she feels, which she's thankful for.

"So Brandon dumped you, huh?" says Dylan, Kelly still in his hold.

"Mmmm," murmurs Kelly. "Something like that."

Dylan releases her and Kelly breathes deeply. Maybe if she starts at another point, and gets to the real point, things will get easier. Oh, she hasn't asked about the film yet. That could be a start.

"How'd the meeting with Lucinda go?" asks Kelly.

He rubs his temple, never a good sign. Kelly fidgets with her blouse.

"That's not a project I'm digging, Kel," admits Dylan.

"Surprise, surprise," says Kelly, sarcastically.

"Look, I'm being honest with you, okay?" says Dylan.

"Allow me to do the same," returns Kelly. "I admire this woman, and you funding her film would open so many doors for her."

Despite what she and Brandon did during the retreat, and despite the fact that she believes that Dylan isn't being completely honest with her regarding the meeting, she did admire Lucinda. Her film would expose so many people to a culture that didn't get the respect it deserved. Dylan could show her some respect by at least taking it seriously.

"Those are doors I don't want to open myself, alright?" says Dylan. "And I'm pretty sure that woman can bust down a few doors without my help."

"What's that supposed to mean?" cries Kelly, standing.

"Just that you should respect somebody with a little more integrity," answers Dylan, softly.

"Like you?" says Kelly. "That's hard to do when you, my own boyfriend, don't show any respect for my opinions."

"That's hard to do when you don't care enough to stick around," argues Dylan.

"Excuse me?" exclaims Kelly.

"If you care so much about the stupid funding, why weren't you there with me?" says Dylan, loudly. "No, you were off hob-knobbing with Brandon and the so-called future leaders of the country!"

"Okay, is this really about the film or is it something else?" asks Kelly.

"I don't know," says Dylan, this time with a colder smirk. "You had the weekend of enlightenment with your pretend boyfriend. You tell me, Kelly."

Dylan says nothing else and pushes through the kitchen door. Kelly turns from side to side, noticing customers who have taken in their fight. This isn't the first moment where that's been the case. One woman gives her a sympathetic smile and resumes eating her salad.

It seems like their ideas are constantly clashing. Dylan wasn't into high school activities, or her sorority, and now her academic interests. He was always on some path by himself or intellectual soapbox he wouldn't let her join in on, and boy was it difficult to meet after all the dust had settled. Her original plan of telling him the details of the trip had totally escaped her. She grabs the handle of her bag and starts towards the door.

"Kelly!" she hears before she can leave.

She rolls her eyes and stays, almost hating that she does.

"I'm sorry," says Dylan, advancing to her. "I really am."

"Look, it's been a long day," sighs Kelly.

"Same here," says Dylan. "The Pit isn't as glorious from the other side. This place is keeping me on my toes, and I'm stressed."

Brandon handled working at the Pit with more grace, thinks Kelly. She could slap herself for that thought. She shouldn't be comparing them, no matter how upset she is with him.

"I'm tired," says Kelly.

What she's truly tired of is bickering with him or trying to get him to contribute or dealing with "sorry"s that don't solve the problems.

"Come by the house tonight," offers Kelly. "Maybe we'll both be less rattled by then."

"Can guarantee you that I will," says Dylan, giving her a small peck on the lips.

Kelly nods and leaves the Pit to go call David. He said he'd pick her up if they met at a mutual spot. Donna and Brenda were on campus, but David is practicing on his piano. Maybe a house full of music and not full of boyfriends, real or pretend, is the the thing she needs the most right now.

III.

"Come get it, Rocky!" coos Donna Martin, bending down. "Come get the toy, Rocky!"

"Donna, you've been asking him to get that plastic porkchop for the last ten minutes," says David Silver, checking his watch.

Donna rights herself and blows the blonde bangs from her face. Rocky stops considering the plastic piece of meat and bounds towards the screen door.

"Maybe he's vegetarian," jokes Andrea Zuckerman. "Or kosher."

Brandon smiles and unfurls his newspaper, hiding what he's been having to witness for more than the last ten minutes. Kelly sits in Dylan's lap, leisurely lacing her fingers through his. As he reads the news of wars in other countries, he tries to imagine why the scene is so happy beyond the printed pages. Did she not tell him? Did Dylan not resent him? He did ask Brandon about the retreat, what it was like, making it obvious that Kelly hadn't gone into great detail on the subject. He was saved from any other inquiries when Andrea arrived with Jesse and a rehabilitated Rocky. All the girls, including Kelly, were incapable of resisting man's best friend. And clearly, Kelly has resisted telling Dylan the truth.

"I'm not picky," sighs Donna. "I want pizza."

"Oh, do you have plain cheese?" asks his twin sister, Brenda.

The girls go into the kitchen, Andrea and Jesse in tow.

"Ah, I'm going to get some air," announces Kelly.

"Well, if you hear music, it's us," says David, happily going to the stereo and flicking it on.

He sets the paper on the table, and he can't say he's not happy to see Kelly disengage her body from his lap. Dylan stands, kisses her on the neck, and pats Brandon's shoulder before going with the others into the kitchen. Brandon watches Kelly wrap a pink shawl around her frame and open the side door. She leaves it open. Is this a cue or not? Brandon shoves his hands in his pockets, and Rocky, ahead of him, join her on the deck.

"I think somebody likes you," notes Brandon, looking at Rocky sniffing Kelly's feet.

"Not edible," she tells the dog.

"No, you're just irresistable," says Brandon as he sits in another chair.

"That's the second time you've said that today," says Kelly.

In the chilly hours and minutes,
Of uncertainty, I want to be,
In the warm hold of your loving mind.

Her beauty calls for one more occasion of him saying that. He smiles at her. Her blonde locks wave in the wind and her blue eyes shine under the moonlight. He noticed the same features when he kissed her, and how soft her lips were against his own. But they were alone and far from the beach. The crashing waves pound against the sand and there were people walking along the gritty surface.

"You're not hungry?" says Kelly.

"No," answers Brandon simply.

After eating the retreat food, and the Megaburger, and the lasagna Cindy insisted he had to try, he is more than full. It seems like everyone wants to feed him.

"Brandon....I didn't," says Kelly, barely glancing at him. "This weekend's been...."

To feel you all around me,
And to take your hand, along the sand,
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind.

Well, he didn't have to be on the Task Force to put two and two together. Should he ask why, though?

"You didn't," says Brandon, nodding.

"I wanted to, but we got in another fight," sighs Kelly.

Now he knows that he shouldn't ask. He only let her share when she wanted to share, and what's private is private. He wasn't one to dig into his friends' relationship issues unless they came looking, or if Brenda suddenly decides to have another shotgun wedding. The last thought keeps the smile on his face, even if he expects it to disappear.

"It's like....I'm either fighting, or fighting my feelings," says Kelly, staring at the ocean.

"And that's a fight in itself," wagers Brandon.

"Exactly," breathes Kelly.

Her eyes find him and she grins slightly. He can see the lines near her eyes, contributing them to worry and guilt. Half of him wishes it were guilt for him, for liking him when she shouldn't. That's what he's worried about as well. That said, he doesn't want any more lines to appear.

When sundown pales the sky,
I wanna hide a while, behind your smile,
And everywhere I'd look, your eyes I'd find.

For me to love you now,
Would be the sweetest thing, 'twould make me sing,
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind.

"I don't think that's fair to you, Kelly," says Brandon.

"What is fair?" whispers Kelly.

"We'll have to figure it out," says Brandon. "And it doesn't have to be tonight."

"But I don't regret the retreat," says Kelly.

"Neither do I," says Brandon. "But we do have commitments to others, and I...respect you enough that I won't put you in a situation that's hurting you."

"Brandon, I have to tell him," breathes Kelly, her eyes growing teary.

"You don't have to," whispers Brandon. "I'm not putting any pressure where there's already pressure, okay?"

Kelly sniffles. "Okay."

When rain has hung the leaves with tears,
I want you near, to kill my fears
To help me to leave all my blues behind.

For standin' in your heart,
Is where I want to be, and I long to be,
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind.

Brandon stands and holds out his arms. Kelly gets up, the shawl falling from her shoulders. She relaxes in the hug after a few seconds have gone by. He lets his nose graze her neck, something a friend can do without shame. Maybe this is all that is meant to be, and if there's more, it would come on its own. It wouldn't have to be a secret. They'd reach a day or a night where they wouldn't have to say anything, save for four words that would spring from his lips.

"I love you for that, Brandon," whispers Kelly, holding the back of his head.

"I love you too, Kel," whispers Brandon.

These are the four words he would say if if things were different, with a different meaning. Things are the same, Brandon clutching Kelly's hands to console her. They're the same because he's let her go.

Dylan and Brenda peep out of the screen door.

"Rocky, come here," scolds Brenda.

"You guys better come in and get some breadsticks," urges Dylan. "Apparently, Jesse Vasquez has never met a breadstick he didn't like."

"More sauce!" shouts Jesse.

Laughs come from the kitchen. Kelly and Brandon provide two more.

"Alright," says Kelly.

Dylan and Brenda exchange a smile and head inside. Rocky walks with them.

"I could use some comfort food," says Kelly to Brandon.

"Last one to the kitchen is Josh Richland's next square dance partner," says Brandon, rubbing Kelly's back as they enter.

Her laugh soothes him. This is a game that's been tough to play, more real than any other since it was with her. He'd at least walk away with something, a true prize, a friend.

Hope you enjoyed the story! Thanks for the reviews! Nikki