I Just Did

I just re-watched the pilot episode of BH 90210 tonight and I keep thinking how cute and sexy Brandon was with the Marianne character. It's a shame they never brought her back to the show! Anyway, I just had to write a short little something for them. Enjoy!

Brandon: "You know, years from now, I'm going to look back on this night and I'm going to kick myself for being such an idiot."

Marianne: "No, you won't. I won't let you."

((Beverly Hills 90210, Pilot Part 2))

Her name was Tiffany. He was her latest accessory.

He carried her bags while she darted from store to store, dollar signs dancing in her eyes. She was high strung and high maintenance. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he put up with her.

Shifting bags in his arms, he looked at his watch. 8:15 p.m. They'd been at this freaking mall for over three hours! Rolling his eyes, he caught up to Tiff as she was about to head into another store – one with lingerie-clad models stationed in the display window.

"Tiff, I think we should go now," he said, even as he wondered what the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Tiff would look like in a purple, silk thong…

"No, Brandon, not yet." She spun around, grabbing him by the front of his tee-shirt. "Just one more stop, k? I'll make it worth your time, I swear."

She grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the store. It was like another world in there. He didn't hate it. At least not until he found himself hovering by the dressing rooms handing Tiff negligee after negligee through a crack in the door.

"Ugh!" Tiff cried. "The purple one makes me look fat. I hate it." Damn, and he'd actually liked that one too.

She tossed the purple number at him. "Can you go get me the black one? Black is better anyway; its slimming."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, come on, Brandon, do it for me." Tiff adopted a pleading expression.

He was struck with indecision. Should he retrieve the black nightie or just walk out of the store and leave Miss Tiff behind forever?

He heard a low, husky, decidedly feminine voice to his right. "Better help your girlfriend out. Sweet girls like her are hard to find."

A beautiful, petite brunette emerged from the dressing room next to Tiff's. Brandon stared at her in surprise.

"Marianne? Marianne Moore?" She nodded. "Talk about a blast from the past!"

"Brandon, right?" She said, though he felt certain that she remembered him quite well. At least, he certainly hadn't ever completely forgotten her, or their midnight bike ride… or that steamy dip in the Jacuzzi…

"Tis I," he said. "How are you?"

"Pretty good," Marianne said with a smile. "How about you, Brandon?"

"Pretty good too… I see the years have been kind to you."

A touch of a blush tinged her cheeks. His whole body tingled.

He looked down at the items in her hands to keep from staring at her. She had a stack of lingerie – stockings, teddies, g-strings, the works – cradled in her slender arms. His skin heated up.

"Those all for you?" Brandon asked, sounding like a rube.

She just chuckled. "Gotta keep the husband satisfied somehow, right?"

Something like disappointment settled like a rock in his gut. "How long have you been married?"

"Eight years," Marianne said.

"Got any kids?" Brandon couldn't help but ask. He was a reporter. It was his nature to be curious although this barrage of questions bordered more on him being a complete glutton for punishment.

Marianne nodded. "One, a girl. She's five. I can't believe I'm a mom! And that I actually like that role."

"Congratulations. It seems like you've got everything you wanted."

"Yes," Marianne said. She looked away for a moment, scuffing her high heels against the wine-colored carpeting.

Tiff broke the spell. "Brandon, did you get the black one yet?"

Marianne chuckled. Brandon couldn't resist a soft chuckle of his own. "Coming right up, dear," he answered.

He looked at Marianne, moving a little closer to her than the situation probably warranted. "Do you remember the night we hung out in your hot tub?"

"How could I forget it?"

"Do you remember how I said one day I would kick myself for being such an idiot?" She nodded, eyes wide. "Well, in my mind, I just did. About twenty times."

She seemed poised to say something in reply but Tiff was suddenly pushing open the dressing room door and poking her head out. "Brandon, come on already!" she whined.

Tiff spotted Marianne standing close by and gave her a dirty look.

Marianne kept her perfect smile firmly in place.

And then she turned on her heel and walked away.

If he was lucky, maybe Brandon would see her again in another twenty-five years.