Past and Future.
By Nic (stardestiny@bigfoot.com)
February 1999.
 
NOTES:
1) This story contains mild spoilers for the episode "Their Are Crocodiles".
2) The content was inspired by Jim Sangster's revelations on the Press Gang Mailing List regarding the possible return of Kenny and the direction storylines might take.
 
 
DISCLAIMER:
The characters and situations are the property of Richmond Films and Television Ltd.  No copyright infringement is intended.
 
 
Past and Future
 

Kenny Phillips swallowed, his heart beating rapidly inside his chest.  Standing in front of the semi-familiar door, a thousand memories returned to him of the years he'd spent in this place.  It looked very different from the last time Kenny had seen it, but the atmosphere was the same.  The muted chatter, clacking of keys (although they were computer keyboards rather than typewriters) and shuffling of papers.  This was the Junior Gazette, and Kenny was back.
 
 He reached out one hand, almost hesitantly, as he prepared to open the doorway into his past.  But there was more to it than that.  It wasn't his past he was afraid of, it was the future, his future, which all depended on one particular person.  Kenny pushed open the door and saw her.
 
 Lynda Day.  Sitting at her desk just as if nothing had changed.  Same place, new curtains which were just as terrible as the old ones, and she still the air of authority which could not be ignored in the newly rebuilt newsroom.  Kenny was surprised for a moment that Lynda hadn't included her own office in the design, then he realised that Lynda liked to keep a very close eye on her staff.
 
 He stepped forward.  A few people glanced up at him (probably wondering why it had taken him so long to walk through the door) and Kenny vaguely recognised one or two of them, but there was no one he knew well enough to greet.  He threaded his way through the clutter of people and desks until he reached the chair of the assistant editor.  Not quite knowing how to get Lynda's attention, he cleared his throat.
 
 "Kenny!  About time you got back," Lynda said breezily, looking up from her desk for only a moment.
 
 Kenny should have expected it.  As he looked awkwardly around the room he heard a shriek and something very warm barrelled itself into his arms.  "Kenny!  When did you get back?"
 
 "Tiddler!" he replied, a smile breaking out over his face.  "It's good to see you again.  And look at you - you're so tall!"
 
 Tiddler smiled wryly, understanding that Kenny was kidding.  "So are you," she quipped.  "Anyway, when did you get back from Australia?  What was it like?  Are you staying long?  Are you going to work for the Junior Gazette again?"  She fired the questions rapidly, one after another so Kenny didn't have a chance to answer even one of them.
 
 "Slow down, Tiddler, I only just walked through the door," he laughed.  "I'll answer your questions in a moment, but where is everybody?"  By everybody he meant his friends who used to work there.
 Tiddler glanced around.  "Okay, Julie - she's assistant editor now-" (Kenny nodded, having already known this) "-had a vitally important meeting to attend to.  Something about her hair, I think."  Both Kenny and Tiddler laughed at that.
 
 "Sarah went to university a few months ago, but she stops by every so often and gives Lynda an article or two.  I think it's a guilt thing.  Frazz, well, he's around here somewhere."  Tiddler gestured in the general direction of desks and Kenny was sure he could hear a familiar snore beneath the low murmur.
 
 "And Spike?" Kenny asked.
 
 Frowning, Tiddler replied, "I'm not too sure on that one.  I think he was supposed to be in today, but..."  Tiddler shrugged.  Kenny decided to let it go.
 
 "Does Colin still have his own office?"
 
 Tiddler laughed.  "I think so...we haven't seen that much of him lately.  I think he's scared to come out.  Either that or he's plotting his revenge on Lynda - do you know what she did to him?"
 
 Kenny could only imagine.
 
 "It's the funniest story, see, he thought Lynda was dead and-"
 
 "Kenny," interrupted Lynda, standing up and holding out a pile of papers, "could you look over these articles for me?  The writing's lousy and I don't have the time to do it myself."
 
 Incredulous, Kenny just stared at her.
 
 "Well are you going to take them or not?"
 
 "Lynda, I only just walked in the door!"
 
 Glancing at her watch, Lynda replied, "No you didn't, you've been here a full five minutes and spent most of that time fraternising with one of my staff members."  She gave him a self-satisfied grin and Kenny suppressed a groan.  He should have known that when Lynda was at the newsroom (or anywhere else for that matter) nothing was more important than the paper.
 
 "Listen, Lynda," Kenny finally said, "I didn't come here to work for you."  He paused, frowning.  "Well, maybe I did, but you can't just expect me to drop everything and start writing like that.  What about a contract, employee forms, an official notification would be nice-"
 
 "Right then.  Kenny, you're hired.  Now about that waterworks story on top there..."
 
 "Lynda, will you just listen to me for once!" Kenny burst out.   She gave him a long, cool look in response.  "You know, Kenny, I think I liked you better before you went to Australia.  What did they teach you - how to be rude?"
 
 "How to be more like you, actually," he returned cheekily.  Eyebrows were raised all over the newsroom at this small interchange.  Very few dared to stand up to Lynda even after so many years of working for her.
 
 Lynda, too, was surprised and was uncharacteristically lost for words.
 
 "Listen, Lynda," Kenny continued, his voice softer.  "I'd be happy to work here again.  But I only arrived back in England this morning and I have a lot to do before I'm all settled.  I came here today because I wanted to see all my friends again; I wanted to see you."  Pausing for a moment, Kenny found himself wishing that the entire newsroom wasn't watching the conversation.
 
 Lynda began to soften and actually smiled at him.
 
 "I missed you, Lynda.  And so I thought I'd invite you out to dinner, catch up on old times, you know."
 
 She was still smiling and Kenny took that as a good sign.  "So how about it, boss?"
 
 "Tiddler, what's on my schedule for tonight?" Lynda called.
 
 Tiddler didn't even have to look as she replied, "Dinner with Spike."  She then gave a little sigh of exasperation, wondering when Lynda would realise that she spent every evening with Spike.
 
 Completely oblivious to Tiddler's expression, Lynda nodded and then mused vaguely, "Which reminds me, where is Spike?  He said he had some errands to run and...."  Lynda interrupted herself.  "Actually, Spike was quite mysterious about it all.  Frazz!" she suddenly called.
 
 Frazz's head snapped up from behind a mass of papers.  He'd been 'resting' again.
 
 "I want you to find out where Spike is.  Tell me what he's doing.  There could be a story in this."
 
 Frazz nodded, and as soon as Lynda returned her attention to Kenny, slumped back in his chair.  Frazz knew what Spike was up to and certainly wasn't going to waste his afternoon chasing Spike down.  Idly, Frazz began to whistle The Wedding March but no one noticed.

 "So are we on for tonight?" pressed Kenny.
 
 "I guess I can fit you in," Lynda replied.  "What do you say, seven o'clock, Chez Maurice?"
 
 "Actually, let me surprise you," Kenny said, trying his best to be mysterious.  "Dress nicely."
 
 "I always do."
 
 "Then I'll see you later?"  His eyes met Lynda's and he held her gaze for a long moment.  An intense moment as he tried to communicate just what his coming back meant.
 
 Finally, Lynda looked down.  "I'll see you at seven."
 
 "At seven, then," Kenny confirmed and slowly backed out of the newsroom, still, always, watching Lynda.

 He decided he should visit his mother, another person who would be surprised to see him back in the country.  Leaving Australia had been an impulsive decision.  Well, that wasn't technically true.  For the longest time Kenny had known he would return to England someday.  As beautiful and friendly as Australia was, there was still something about his homeland that would forever have a hold on his heart.  And it wasn't just that, either.  It was the friends he had in England, specifically, Lynda Day.
 
 She was the most wonderful person he had ever known and the only one to be able to look past his 'nice-guy' persona.  Yes, there had been Jenny Elliot, Kenny remembered, but look how that had ended up.
 
 Kenny reached his mother's house and sighed.  He wasn't doing himself any good by dredging up painful memories, and the thoughts of Lynda left him more confused than he wanted to be; only adding to his apprehension regarding the evening ahead.  Resolutely, he emptied his mind of such thoughts and prepared to give his mother a wonderful surprise.
 
 She was, naturally, delighted to see him and spent the entire afternoon talking, Kenny barely able to get a word in edgewise.  Not that he minded.  And when evening came, Kenny had an altogether difficult time extricating himself from the conversation so that he could get ready (his mother insisted that he stay in his old room until he could get settled in a new place).  Although, Kenny realised, she probably didn't want to let go of him ever again.
 
 He hummed as he donned his suit, memories of his teenage years flooding back.  Why had he let go of his music?, Kenny found himself wondering.  There had been a brief moment of fame and then...nothing.  Perhaps now that he was back, he could think of it again.
 
 "Don't you look quite the gentleman!" enthused his mother just before he left.  Kenny's response was more of a grimace than a smile.  "Going somewhere special, are you?"
 
 "Actually, I'm taking Lynda out," Kenny replied.
 
 "Oh."  It was a very knowing 'oh' and Kenny stared at his mother.
 
 "What?"
 
 "Nothing," she replied, but there was still a gleam in her eyes.  "Have fun tonight, Kenny.  Stay out as long as you like."
 
 "Mother!" Kenny replied in an exasperated tone, knowing exactly what she was insinuating.  He briefly considered explaining that he and Lynda had always been best friends and nothing more, but decided it wouldn't convince her anyway.
 
 In the meantime, his mother's expression softened.  "I mean it, sweetheart.  Have a nice time."
 
 "I will," Kenny answered and kissed her on the cheek.  "It's good to be back."
 
 He found his way to Lynda's address relatively easily and to his surprise, she was ready and waiting.  No more hiding behind closed doors, no, this was a more mature Lynda Day who was ready to take on the world.
 
 Kenny almost forgot to breathe when he first saw her.  With her hair carefully styled and wearing an elegant black dress, Lynda looked stunning.  Kenny stood there gaping for a few moments before Lynda asked, "Well?  Aren't you going to say hello?"
 
 "Hello," he replied automatically.  Finally, he caught control of his inappropriate thoughts and said, "You look lovely tonight, Lynda."
 
 "So do you," she returned.  Then she amended, "I mean, you look very handsome, very suave."  Was it possible that Lynda was the tiniest bit flustered at having to go out with a friend from the past?

 Kenny could only hope so, because he already felt very strange about the whole thing.  He had to keep reminding himself that it was his idea, in fact, it was mostly the reason he had-
 
 "Shall we go?" Lynda asked, interrupting his train of thought.
 
 "Yes, of course.  I've got an amazing restaurant picked out...."
 
 Dinner was nothing short of delightful in terms of both the food and the company.  Kenny and Lynda spent hours catching up on what the other had been doing and reminiscing about the paper.  Inevitably, though, the conversation grew more serious and Kenny realised that the time to tell her was near.

 "How did you hear about the fire?" Lynda asked.  "I didn't think our circulation had reached Australia quite yet."
 
 "Your mother sent that issue of the paper to me along with a letter."
 
 "My mother writes to you?"
 
 "Of course she does.  She always liked me.  At least she replies to my letters."
 
 "You've been writing to my mother?" Lynda seemed quite stuck on this one point.
 
 "Well, you never wrote back.  Lynda, I wrote to you every day after I left."
 
 "Oh, so they're your letters that are piled up in my desk drawer?  I never got around to reading them."
 
 "You didn't even write to me once!"
 
 Lynda actually looked contrite.  "I'm sorry, Kenny, but with the paper going professional and both you and Spike gone, I had a lot to cope with on my own."
 
 "Lynda, I just wanted to say something."
 
 "What?"
 
 "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I ran out on you, I'm sorry I just took off and went to Australia.  It wasn't something I planned - I just needed to get away for a while.  Find myself or something."
 
 "Did you?"
 
 "Did I what?"
 
 "Find yourself."
 
 Kenny smiled, almost enigmatically.  "Well, I certainly found out some things about myself that I wasn't quite aware of before."
 
 "Such as?"  It was obvious Lynda expected an answer but Kenny wasn't quite ready to give her one.

 "Oh, life, the universe, everything..." Kenny said vaguely.  His eyes darted up to meet hers before returning to the fascinating pattern woven into the table cloth.
 
 "Kenny, why did you leave?" Lynda insisted.  "Was it something I did?  You were my best friend and then suddenly, you were gone."
 
 Watching Lynda closely, Kenny was suddenly aware of how much she had changed.  While as tough as ever on the outside, she also seemed softer somehow.  More at peace with herself and not so afraid of revealing the slightest bit of emotion.  It was a Lynda he recalled from childhood, the girl who had been his best friend.  The Lynda who had been lost for a time during the ruthless experience of high school and beyond.
 
 "Do you remember," Kenny suddenly began, "that rainy afternoon when we hid up in my cousin's treehouse because you were scared of my aunt?"
 
 "The aunt who died six times?"  They both laughed at the memory before Lynda continued with, "And what do you mean, scared of?  It was you who didn't want to face her, you said she gave you too many kisses...and...oh..." and Lynda remembered something else.
 

~~~
 
 "Kenny," ten year old Lynda asked, "Have you ever kissed a girl?"
 
 "No!" he replied vehemently, injecting as much schoolyard disgust into the word as was possible.  He'd been taught by his peers that kissing girls was something to be avoided at all costs.  None of his friends had changed their opinions on this in several years (even though they would soon have quite the opposite view).
 
 Lynda was undeterred by Kenny's reaction.  "Well, have you ever thought about it?" she demanded.
 
 Kenny didn't answer.  He just blushed.
 
 "Have you?"
 
 "Maybe," Kenny finally mumbled, knowing that Lynda wouldn't give up until she had an answer out of him.
 
 "You have, haven't you!" she crowed delightedly.  She was about to make Kenny's life even more miserable when he cut her off.
 
 "What about you, Lynda?  Do you think about it?"
 
 That caused Lynda to pause.  "Maybe," she answered just as evasively as he had earlier.
 
 "Come on Lynda, you can tell me," Kenny continued, glad that he had distracted her from more probing questions concerning his own imagination.
 
 She frowned at him.  "I'm only telling you this because you're my best friend," she warned.
 Kenny nodded in a most obedient manner.
 
 "And if you ever tell anyone else then I'll hide pins in your bed so they'll stick you in the middle of the night and you'll wake up all bloody...."
 
 Kenny nodded even more vehemently.
 
 "You promise?"
 
 "Yes, Lynda."
 
 She took a deep breath and said, "Well, once I wondered what it was like.  And I tried to imagine it only I couldn't because I think it's something you need to do to understand."
 
 "Oh," said Kenny softly, growing nervous at the direction the conversation was taking.  He stared at the floor, the walls, anywhere but Lynda which was quite difficult because they sat facing each other on the wooden floor.
 
 He noticed Lynda anxiously twisting her hands together in her lap when she said, "Do you want to find out what it's like?"
 
 "Me?" Kenny squeaked.
 
 "Yes, of course you.  Who else is there?"
 
 "I thought you liked James Callahan at school," Kenny answered.  Lynda went red.
 
 "Don't be silly," she snapped.  "He's the last person I'd ever want to kiss after he threw that paper airplane at me."  Glancing up at Lynda, Kenny decided to pretend that she was telling the truth.  He wasn't going to encourage any relationship that might take his best friend away from him.
 
 Crossing her arms, Lynda suddenly said, "You didn't answer me."
 
 "About what?"  Kenny feigned innocence.
 
 "About kissing."
 
 Taking a deep breath, Kenny quickly said, "Yes."
 
 "Yes what?" Lynda asked.  "Yes, you didn't answer my question, or yes, you want to find out what it's like?"
 
 "Yes, I will kiss you," Kenny mumbled, and stared hard at his shoelaces, unable to believe that he'd just said that.
 
 "Well, that's good, then," Lynda replied and was it possible that her voice was quavering just a little?  She shuffled closer to him across the floor until their knees were touching.  "Are you ready?"
 
 Kenny still didn't want to look up.  "Um," was all he managed to say.
 
 "You have to look at me if we're going to do it," Lynda said quietly, her earlier bravado disappearing by the second.  Kenny slowly lifted his head and met her eyes.  They stared at each other for several long moments, almost as if they were communicating silently.  Best friends, about to take a significant step.
 
 Lynda leaned forward, just a little, and Kenny copied the motion.  Closer, closer, until Kenny saw Lynda closing her eyes and decided he'd better do the same thing himself and then finally, their lips were touching.
 
 A soft, gentle kiss, so full of childish innocence yet so full of promise at the same time.  When the contact was broken, they sat back a little and Lynda smiled broadly at Kenny.
 It was the sweetest moment of Kenny's young life.
 
~~~
 
 And even now, several years later, Kenny still recalled the moment fondly.  He sensed that Lynda did too.  It was something special from their past and something that would always bring them together.  Watching Lynda closely, Kenny said, "You were my best friend, Lynda.  You still are."
 
 "Even with the way I've treated you?"
 
 Kenny smiled warmly.  "Because of the way you've treated me.  Lynda, I've never met anyone like you.  I don't think I ever will.  You're special, you have that spark that just draws me in.  I tried to forget you when I was in Australia but I couldn't, every night I would see your face...."
 
 Lynda's voice was almost a whisper as she asked, "Kenny, what are you saying?"
 
 He took a deep breath, knowing that this was the moment he'd travelled half a world for.  "When we were growing up, I loved you, Lynda.  And it's the kind of love that doesn't go away, it's a love that grows stronger with each passing year.  I love you, Lynda."  He reached across the table and took her hand.
 
 Lynda was unable to speak.

 "I know you probably didn't want to hear this," Kenny continued, "but it was something I had to say.  Before it's too late."
 
 "Too late?" Lynda echoed.
 
 "You and Spike...you know..."  Kenny sighed.  "I just want you to know how I feel.  I'm not asking you to break it off with Spike.  Um, well maybe deep in my heart I do wish that you would."  Seeing the sudden defensiveness on Lynda's face, Kenny quickly went on.
 
 "Is he really the one you want to spend the rest of your life with?  You know how much you fight - it never stops.  Sure, he can make you happy one moment, but what about the next?  Will he always be true?  You deserve better, Lynda.  You need someone who will love you without reservation, someone who will treat you with respect.  Someone who will always be there for you no matter what happens."
 
 "And that someone is you?"
 
 Kenny looked down for a moment.  "I could be," he answered softly.  Hesitantly, he met her eyes again and saw neither the expected anger nor compassion.  Instead, he saw confusion and it gave him hope in his heart.
 
 "Lynda?" he tried.
 
 "Kenny, I-"  She shook her head.  "I don't know what to say.  I love Spike, I really do, um..."  Pausing again, Lynda removed her hand from Kenny's, yet the motion seemed reluctant.  "I think you should go."
 
 "Then I will," Kenny said softly.  He stood, and cupped one hand under Lynda's chin so that she had no choice but to look at him.  "Lynda, please, just think about it.  For me?"
 
 She gave the tiniest of nods.
 
 And then Kenny leaned in to gently brush his lips across hers, a sweet, soft kiss so reminiscent of childhood, a kiss with a promise of the future.  He turned and left, leaving a stunned Lynda Day sitting alone.

---
END.
 

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