LAST TIME, ON THE LOOK-ALIKE SERIES: "...burrow down into the roots of your family trees!" "If we dig deep enough, will our family tree die?" "You know the Sloanes?" "Dad works closely with Grace, Sloane and Page." "The day *before*? You couldn't have *warned* us?" "I didn't know enough and there wasn't enough time." "With the Sloane connections, she could go a very long way." "I've been bending over backwards trying to keep her safe!" "Can't you see it's safer for you to be kept out of this?" "Fine. I'll stay out." AND NOW, THE CONCLUSION. _The Look-Alike Series_ Daria fan fiction by Canadibrit with Ben Yee Season 4, episode 9: "A Dated Concept" prose adaptation by Austin Loomis Cast: Daria Morgendorffer, Lynn Cullen, Charles "Upchuck" Ruttheimer III, Jodie Abigail Landon, Michael Jordan "Mack" MacKenzie, Jamie White, Jane Lane, A.P. McIntyre, Kevin Thompson, Quinn Morgendorffer, Mara Fitzgerald, Casey Wright, Andrea Thorne, Max Tyler, Trent Lane, Nick Campbell, Jesse Moreno "I am the son and the heir Of the shyness that is criminally vulgar I'm son and heir of nothing in particular" -- The Smiths, "How Soon is Now?" ACT 1: ONE FOR THE RAZORBACKS "If I accumulate knowledge I'll be impenetrable If I am aloof no one will know when they strike a nerve If I keep my mouth shut the boat will not have to be rocked If I am vulnerable I will be trampled upon" -- Alanis Morissette, "Would Not Come" Daria and Lynn sat opposite each other at a cafeteria table, looking at their soi-disant food. "Twelve o'clock and all's..." Lynn trailed off. After a slight pause, Daria asked, "Decent?" "Acceptable?" "Tolerable." "Meh." "Well, hel-*lo,* my dusky beauty..." Daria and Lynn turned to the source of the disturbance. (Okay, it wasn't a real disturbance yet, but they were giving it time.) Jodie was sitting with almost Tussaudian rigidity, obviously trying not to go postal, as Upchuck slimed his way into a seat beside her. "I couldn't help but notice that relations are... shall we say, strained...between yourself and the talented Michael Jordan MacKenzie." "What's it to *you?*" Jodie sullenly replied. "Well, I know that breakups are so...terribly *difficult,* especially when one has been in the relationship for so long a time. And I thought I would offer..." He put a hand on her shoulder. "...some comfort..." There was a *snap* noise from the other direction, and Daria and Lynn looked toward its source. They saw Mack, at the team table, holding two pieces of a plastic spork, with an expression on his face suggesting that he'd involuntarily snapped it out of sheer rage. "Dude!" Jamie blurted. "You just *mutilated* that spork!" Mack did not reply, just continued to do the slow burn. Jerome Smythe's daughters looked at each other. In their often- seen unison, they agreed, "Not," shoved their trays to one side -- Lynn's fell off the table -- and dropped their heads into the vacancies thus created. Jane and A.P. came out of the line, carrying freshly laden trays and looking confused. "It's finally happened," Art-Smart Scarlet noted. "The cafeteria ladies went psycho and poisoned the food." "Wasn't that a `Buffy' ep?" wondered A.P. "Apparently." After a moment, it hit her what he'd said. "Wait; you *know* that?" "Hey, *you* read Buffyfic..." They heard a scream and turned to look just as Daria and Lynn were looking up. They could all see Upchuck wearing, as an unwanted hat, a large quantity of something reddish-brown and steaming, but otherwise identifiable only as the cafeteria's Slop of the Day. Jodie was holding a now-empty tray and wearing a nasty smirk that would have been quite at home on Lynn's face. They heard a sound of scuffling in the other direction and turned to see Mack holding Kevin in a head-lock. "Hey, look, Bro! *glork* Bro, what'd I...*gaaaaaaaaak*" The Jacketeers all looked at each other. "THAT?" Jane scroaned. (It's not as dirty as it sounds; it's just a cross between a scream and a groan.) "Uh-huuuuuuh..." the look-alikes chorused. "Sheeeeeeesh," A.P. muttered. "It's been *days.*" "They've been going out since junior high," Jane said from the point of view of a long-time Lawndale resident. "And it takes *this* to break them up." "He's being *dumb!* I mean, so what if GPA Girl's kinda involved in the fringes of a Mafia Family!" "A little louder, A.P.," snarked Lynn. "I don't think they heard you in Newark." "But *I* got over it, and he's more...more...I dunno, clued into the way her mind works than I am with..." He started blushing a not- so-weird shade of maroon. "...thatmakesSQUATallsensenevermind." "I see what you mean, though. We have to do something." She thought about it. "A.P., you've been in the situation Mack's in -- talk to him?" _Gleep._ "But...but...but...Purple *Peril!* I mean, you *can't* do that to me! I mean, I don't do words! Even those first-day-of-school- let's-screw-with-the-teachers'-tiny-little-minds speeches were all prepared by *you!* I mean, I mean, I mean..." Daria decided gentle reassurance was indicated. "Don't worry about eloquence, A.P. Just talk from the heart. He'll understand." "Uhhhhhhhh..." "I have faith in you," Lynn assured him. "On this one, you'll do fine." A.P. proceeded to blush himself stupid. "Uuuuuuuuuuuukay..." "But what about Jodie?" Jane wondered. "Lynn, you know about the situation she's in," Daria pointed out. "Maybe you could--" "It can't be just me," Lynn interjected. "I...I need a different spin on the....well, the Family. But someone who knows how it feels to try to keep someone they care about *out* of it." Everyone turned to Jane. She immediately backed off. "Hey, do *not* look at me like that. I don't talk to Goat-boy enough to have to worry about spilling anything." "Unless you talk in your sleep..." Daria wickedly replied, nearly under her breath. Jane allowed herself a semi-irritated smirk. "You evil--" "Excuse me..." Lynn sighed. "I have *one* idea..." * * * Later, in the halls of Lawndale, Quinn was applying lipstick, seemingly calm. "Narci--" *SMACK!* You would have needed a slow-motion camera to see it happen. Suddenly, Quinn was facing Lynn, and Lynn was holding her anti-sister's wrist -- Quinn had lashed out at her half-sister's other-half sister with a fist and gotten it blocked. Thankfully, that was the full extent of the on-contact explosion. "HEY!" Lynn spocked an eyebrow. "Nice reflexes." "Shut up," Quinn sulked. After a moment, she asked, "What do you want, anyway, sneaking up on me like that?" "You owe me fairly big, and while I normally wouldn't call it in, this is an emergency. And bigger than me. You know Jodie Landon?" Quinn perked up a bit at that. "Sure! One of the few people I know who can be brainy *and* popular all at the same time! What about her?" The eyebrow again. "You can't be *that* out of the loop." Mild deflation there. "Oh. Her and Mack. Right." "Well, in a way, it's our fault." Piku piku. "I'll fill you in after school. I'm going to need your input on this." "But why *me?* I mean, I'm not..." "Intelligent? Deep? Capable of rational argument? That's a crock and you know it. You *proved* it by getting to TBM in the first place. Why you try to hide it, I don't know." Quinn decided to stall for time and hope a reply would come out. "But--" "It's right up your alley. Meddling in the affairs of the popular." Lynn considered that. "*Used* to be up your alley, anyway." Some more thought. "Meet me in the parking lot directly after school. I brook no argument here, Narcissa." She walked off, leaving Quinn feeling pissed off and scared at the same time. * * * Mack was at his locker when A.P. approached, nervously, then cleared his throat. Mack didn't seem to notice -- or, at least, he didn't react in any visible way. "Hey ho, Picard." "Hi, A.P.," came the listless reply. After a moment or two, the Maverick's choice of words registered. "Say *what?*" A.P. shrugged. "Well, Captain Sanity just doesn't fit anymore. Picard's a captain and he gets pissed in a *big* way since the Locutus thing." "I'll...just take your word for it," Mack, not much of a Trekkie, replied. There was an uncomfortable silence. "Uh...wanna do pizza after school?" "...Why?" "Well, the GPA Girl thing. Y'know...I kinda thought...well, I *know,* okay?" "`Know'...?" "What it's like where you are *now.*" He let that sink in. "You know we can't do this here. Now, we gonna do pizza or what?" For a moment, Mack just looked at A.P. * * * Out on the street, Jodie was walking on her own, looking almost as miserable as she felt. The Merc pulled up alongside her; Lynn was behind the wheel, and Quinn was riding shotgun, looking sullen and worried at the same time. Over her passenger's head, Lynn called, "In." Jodie *blinked.* I mean, PIKU PIKU. "Wh--" "IN." "I wouldn't argue," Quinn advised. Jodie, not *willing* to argue with Lynn -- she being who she was -- got into the back of the car, and it sped off. * * * Mack and A.P. were sitting on the floor of the latter's room, a pizza box between them. "You're not worried about your parents hearing this?" Mack wondered. "Nay," A.P. replied a little too offhandly. "Dad's at work and he doesn't pay attention anyway. And Mom...well, if she didn't hear when I blew up three Erlenmeyer flasks and a fume hood, she won't hear this." That got him a Look. "Like Purple Peril says, you think I'm kidding." Headshake. "I don't want to know." _Back to business._ "But you do. Or you umknow, anyway." "*Um*-know?" "Kindasorta." Quiet blink. "Damn Warlock-speak." He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "Anyway. Look. Purple Peril didn't vent about this Mafia crap, not really. When she finally told us, it was 'cause we had her so cornered she *had* to fill us in. "All last spring, after the Nazi Jackboot thing, she shut us out." Mack was hardly listening. "Jodie *lied* to me," he muttered sullenly. "Purple Peril lied to *me,* y'know. About where she was, who she was with..." He choked slightly. "How much trouble she was in..." Mack nearly sounded impressed. "And you stuck it out?" "'Cause I care. And when I heard, I was glad I did. Means I can do what I can to help her. When she lets me." Mack's next question was addressed mainly to himself. "Why didn't Jodie trust me enough to--?" "NO." That came out rather severely; Mack looked startled. "It's not about *trust.* First it didn't have anything to do with her; then there were *bullets.*" A.P. took off his jacket and showed his arm, which still had the scar from where Ms. Li's bullet had grazed it. "She wanted you *out,* like Lynn wanted *us* out. And can you *blame* her, if it means she cares?" "What about *her?* Who keeps *Jodie* out?" "Nobody, now. All you can do is help her cope...or let her deal alone." A long pause followed this statement. Mack spoke, slowly. "And I thought you were only smart about..." He trailed off. "What, all things techno-weaselly? I *was.*" He let that hang a moment, then went on, somewhat heavily. "It was learn or lose out. On *everything.*" There was silence for a moment as Mack digested this, then sighed at some length. "What do I do?" A.P. got twitchy inside. _Jeez, no one's ever asked *me* for advice before._ "Uh...I...guess...eee..." He thought about it. "Maybe you should talk to Purple Peril and Erudite Emerald about that." Then he remembered. "Neo-Grunge Earache's playing a gig at the Zen tonight. You could come talk to 'em there if you wanted." "Neo-Grunge *Earache?*" Then Mack figured it out. "Oh." He thought. "Maybe. Thanks, A.P." "Hey, no problem." Mack got up. "Not gonna stay for the pizza?" "The smell coming off *your* half of that thing lost me my appetite. But thanks anyway." With a small smirk, Mack made his exit. A.P. opened the pizza box, looked at it, and shrugged. _That's late snacks taken care of, anyway. And maybe a breakfast or two._ * * * Meanwhile, in Lynn's room, Jodie was sitting on the desk chair again, looking a little scared. Lynn was sitting cross-legged at the foot of her bed with a deadly serious look on her face. Quinn was standing by the door, either for ease in her own escape or prevention of Jodie's -- Jodie was thinking probably the latter, hence the fear -- looking pissed off and sullen beyond belief. "Why am I here?" Jodie asked. "We'd like to talk to you," Lynn replied, "about the situation between yourself and Mack." "It's really none of your business." "No? Tell me things weren't going all that well *before* we had to let you in on this." "Well..." "Oh, *let* her take the blame!" Quinn snapped. "I mean--" Lynn threw Quinn a Glare, and Quinn shut up. "Why is *she* here?" "'Cause *I* have a boyfriend who isn't *into* this mess! And I know about wanting to keep it that way." "The problem with that," Lynn pointed out, "is that unless you're not close, the S.O. in question will find out that *something's* going wrong the minute things start getting complicated. And with this kind of situation, there's no way to avoid complications." "*Tell* me about it. I can't even go on *vacation* without getting shot at anymore." She thought about it, then realized. "But Ted..." "Bubble Boy know's something's up with you, Narcissa," came the gentle assurance. "He's just too gentle to press and too naive to guess anywhere near the mark." Quinn decided she'd be happier ignoring that, opting to change targets. "Jodie...all this stuff...it's not *safe.* But..." A long pause. "...well, they kept *me* safe, and they don't even *like* me all that much." Lynn looked at her. "They like you, and they like Mack. They're *going* to keep *you* safe." Lynn moved in to complete the double-team. "He's in on it now, like it or not. You can shut him out, which will hurt you both in a lot of ways...or you can help him and let him help you." A longish silence followed this advice. At length, Jodie vented a sigh of defeat. "I just need to get out of that house for a while. Maybe I'd be able to think if Mom and Dad weren't yelling at me about my future with the Family." "Well, can't guarantee you coherent thought there, but if you want out of the house, Mystik Spiral's playing the Zen tonight. Want me to stick your name on the guest list?" "Uhhh..." "Well, it's not like you have to *go!*" Quinn pointed out. "I mean, even if it *is* a townie *grunge* band thing, having your name on the guest list at a *club* is a...cut? Cup?" "Coup," Lynn corrected. "What*ever.* -- Put her on the guest list *anyway.* She can always say she had a better offer if someone asks." Jodie's nerves got visibly worse, but she managed to say, "Yeah. I'll think about it." She took a moment to do just that. "Thanks, you two." She left. Lynn and Quinn looked at each other. "I hate to admit this," Lynn allowed as, "but we make a good team." "Yeah," Quinn said flatly. "No kidding." "...Did...*you* want on the Zen guest list?" "Are you *insane?* I just told her that to make sure she gets out of the *house* tonight! I've heard you guys *enough!*" A moment's gear-turning. "Anyway, *I* have something *better* to do with my day." With that, she flounced out. Lynn shook her head somewhat ruefully. ACT 2: CONSPIRACY OF ONE "So you go and you stand on your own And you leave on your own And you go home and you cry and you want to die" -- "How Soon is Now?" Later, in the Zen, Mara was sitting with her feet on a table, revealing one lethal pair of boots and a good pair of legs, looking sulky. A.P. arrived, looked at her, considered a moment, then sat down at the table. "Hey ho, Nympho-Goth..." "Stop calling me that, geek-ball. -- What are *you* doing here, anyway?" "Came to see Purple Peril play. Y'know, the *girlfriend*..." Eyebrow. "*Knew* the breakup wouldn't last." "Come again?" "Never mind. Knew she was talking out her rosy red rear-end. You two...you've got this thing." At this point, Daria and Jane arrived. They looked bemusedly at the semi-recumbent Mara and the confused-looking A.P. before sitting down themselves. "Yo." After a moment, Jane added, "Mara." "Hey. How's Guy?" "Goat-boy's fine." A sly grin. "Isn't he *just?* I mean, no muscle tone to speak of -- hell, no *muscles* to speak of -- but when he does that--" Daria started to stand up. "Walking away now..." Jane pulled her back down. "Nonononono, no TMI here." A glare at Mara. "*Right,* Nympho-Goth?" "If you stop calling me that." "So what are *you* doing here?" A.P. wondered. "Date went bust, basically. Geez, some guys just have no *stamina*..." A.P. raised his eyebrows, as did Daria and Jane, who had by now heard the Peril's stories about Mara's butterflying. Then Jane turned around -- and facefaulted. "I haven't even hit the *bar* yet and I'm seeing things..." Daria, A.P. and Mara turned in the direction Jane was looking. Daria and A.P. facefaulted as well. Mara just shrugged. "Oh, Casey's girlfriend. Don't even know her name. Every time I ask, she *glares* at me." The other three, still stunned, continued to stare at where Casey was crossing the room...arm in arm with Andrea. "I said!" A.P. reminded them. "I *said,* didn't I? I--" "I don't even want to *know* what you said..." She raised her voice. "HEY GRUNT! AND...uhhhh...YOU! OVER HERE!" Casey and Andrea stepped up to the table with matching glares. Casey's greeting came out in his usual nearly unintelligible grunt. "Yomara. -- A.P." A long pause. "Uhhhhhhhh...othrpepl." Meanwhile, up on the stage, Mystik Spiral were set up and ready to play. Lynn looked inexplicably disgruntled. "This song," she said, "is by *request.*" She punctuated this with a glare at Nick that did a nice job of explaining her disgruntlement. "I still don't see why we couldn't do `Tanks for the Memories'!" Max whined. "This is *not* the place for asinine tributes to that hunk of tin. And ask me one more time, and I'll duct tape your mouth shut, tie you to the bumper of the A-Tank and drive you into the Quarry." And with that, they began a medley of Blue Oyster Cult's hit. "o/` All our times have come, o/`" she and Trent chorused. "o/` Here but now they're gone... o/`" Then she took the solo part. "o/` Seasons don't fear the reaper / Nor do the wind or the sun or the rain... o/`" "o/` We can be like they are... o/`" Trent and Nick sang in what I can only call "umharmony." Lynn winced. "o/` Come on baby... o/`" "o/`Don't fear the reaper! o/`" now in open nonharmony. Upchuck approached the table, shying away from Daria -- then he spotted Mara, and his face broke into his most impressive leer. "Well *hello,* my dark fiesty one!" He openly ogled her legs. "Is that a run in your stocking, or the stairway to heaven?" Mara regarded him for a moment, then pulled him forward by the collar and kissed him, long and hard, with open mouth and plenty of lip and tongue action. When she finally let go, the Chuckster fell over in a dead faint. Jane looked extremely impressed. "So he *was* all talk," Mara observed. After a moment, sounding genuinely disappointed, she added, "Damn." "I've never seen *anyone* do that," Jane croggled. "It's all in the technique." A sly smirk. "I can demonstrate, if you like..." Jane backed off slightly at that. "I'm going to stick to guys for now, but thanks for asking." A.P. snickered. "Oh, shut up." Mack came into view, looking a bit trepidated. A.P. spotted him and waves, and Mack dared approach the table. "Hey A.P.!" he said as he sat down. "Hey Picard." Mara glared. "Oh, that Trekkie crap again." A semi-leer at the new arrival. "You don't *look* like one of those..." "I'm not. He just..." Mack trailed off. A smirk. "Didn't *think* so." Jane intervened. "Hands off the merchandise, Nympho-Goth. *This* one's taken." "Why are you talking about me like I'm meat?" Mack snapped. "Unless you *wanted* to go the way of Upchuck," Daria advised, indicating the figure on the floor. Gulp. "Okay..." The curtains had flown, he had appeared, and she had taken his hand and become like they are. Now the music faded and the crowd jeered. "Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen," Lynn called out, "and I promise we'll never play that song ever again." And the crowd went wild. "In the bad acoustics of the Zen," Daria muttered, "the Spiral butchered a song." "And there was much rejoicing," Lynn said to the band, off-mike. Upchuck was just getting to his feet, staring at Mara in nearly superstitious awe. She looked him over like cattle for a long moment. "You'll do for now," she finally said. Then she thought better of it. "But do something about those clothes and..." She stuck a hand into his hair and ruffled it vigorously, causing it to spring into A.P.-esque disarray. The actual Psycho-Maverick stared. Oh, he'd taken Erudite Emerald's word for it about his -- some R-word, kind of rhymes with resentment only not really -- *resemblance,* that was it, to Hefner's Folly, but now it was so obvious he wondered how even *he* had ever missed it. He figured Purple Peril must have to make a special *effort* not to see it, not that he was complaining of course. "Uh...uh...uuuuuuuuuuuuh..." Upchuck observed intelligently. "Oh, sit down and shut up." "yes'm." "An encore?" Lynn offered. "To clean your ears?" The crowd went wild, indicating pronounced assent, and the Spiral thrashed into the Offspring's "Conspiracy of One." Just then, Jodie appeared in the doorway of the Zen to see Mack sitting at the table with Daria, Jane and the others. She immediately looked absolutely horrified at seeing Mack with the fledgling Mafiosa. Andrea looked up and saw her at the door. "Hey Jodie!" she called out, all innocence. Jodie spun and ran just in time for Mack to look around and see her exit. This got him to his feet. "Oh hell," he said and exited at a run after her. ACT 3: EVERLONG "And as I try to make my way In the ordinary world I will learn to survive" -- Duran Duran, "Ordinary World" Mara and Casey looked confused. "Guys...chase *after*..." "Don't think about it, Nympho-Goth," A.P. advised. "It'll make your unfaithful little head hurt." "Fine," she harrumphed indignantly. "Then I wanna *hear* this. Maybe *learn* something..." She made to get up. A.P. got up too, but not as fast as Jane, who just about bodily *threw* Mara back into her chair. "Nonononono..." she nearly sounded panicked. "That's gonna be personal...Uh..." "We go for pizza?" A.P. suggested. "We go for pizza, like, *now?*" "*Yeah,* and Daria, maybe you can stay behind and tell the others ...you know...where we went?" Daria sighed. "Okay." A.P. led the exodus from the club. Mara dragged Upchuck up by the shirt and guided him away; he was moving like someone'd beaned him upside the head with a half-brick in a sock. As Jane was bringing up the rear to prevent any stragglers who might trip over Jodie and Mack's conversation, Daria grabbed her by the arm. Jane was understandably shocked. "Wha--?" "If this is even *partly* the yenta act again," Daria gritted, "I will personally...ask Lynn for advice on the best way to make you *very* sorry." A small smirk. "If it was, you think she'd help *you?*" Daria managed to wince, blush and scowl all at once, a feat hitherto attempted only by Barnum and Bailey. Jane contrived to disengage herself, smirking even wider, and jogged off. * * * A.P. continued leading the pack outside. Andrea and Casey followed, hand in hand, closely pursued by Mara, who was dragging Upchuck. Jane kind of trailed behind. Mara turned to Jane with a sly little smirk on her face. "I got some of that. Pulling a cupid on the Lynn-clone cold fish?" "She is *not* a cold fish!" Jane managed to sound indignant and defensive at once. "I've only ever seen her a teensy bit flustered. Or a teensy bit pissed off. Never anything *extreme.* Where's her *fire?*" Jane thought back to things she'd only heard about -- Kate Cullen knocked down, Upchuck getting his family jewels kicked up into his Adam's apple -- and things she'd actually seen -- the gun up Wily's nose, the obliteration of the Merritt compound, the Falcon on the floor with a bloody beak -- and shuddered. "It's there." They walked on past an alley, Mara staring at Jane like she was nuts. In the alley, Mack had pinned Jodie to a wall, looking at her with concern. "You okay?" She frowned at him. "We shouldn't talk about it here. You know anyplace?" She gave him a cautious look. * * * Lynn stepped offstage, followed closely by Trent. They came backstage -- and stopped in their tracks, slightly taken aback, when they saw Daria, arms folded, waiting for them. Lynn gauged the look and asked, "What happened?" "Jodie showed. Mack went after her. They're going to talk." Lynn looked at Daria for a moment, reading her with the ease of the look-alike, think-alike, and partial sister. Then she nodded. "Fill them in as much as you have to." With that, she took off. "But...you're my..." "Get a ride with Trent!" Her next sentence was nearly inaudible, but the smirk that must have been on her face came through in her voice. "Like that's a hardship..." Daria scowled in the direction in which Lynn had left, then turned to Trent. Sir Naps-a-Lot was now flanked by Jesse, Nick and Max, all of whom looked puzzled as hell. Jesse was, as usual, the one to come right out and say "Huh?" "Reader's Digest version -- the Landons are tied in with Angier Sloane, and so with the Smythes. Mack found out about it and was not impressed. They looked like they were about to break up over it. They ran into each other here tonight and we're just trying to make sure they have the one-on-one conversation they need to have to save their relationship." And then there was silence. The quartet just stared at Daria. Finally, up spoke Max. "Wow Daria, I never knew you had a romantic streak." "Maybe a Cupid streak." "Cupid streak?" Jesse asked. "You mean, like, without the diaper?" Exit one wincing Trent, slamming the door. "What's with *him?*" That seemingly simple question caused a bunch of furtive Looks to be shared by the remaining bandmembers. "Spill, or I'll get Lynn." "But what about the *code,* man?" Little Drummer Boy blurted. "*What* code?" "The code. You never tell the girl a guy likes that--" Jesse was cut short by Nick and Max, in unison, smacking him upside the head. Daria stared at all three of them, unable to believe what she'd just heard. "I see. Walking away now." She took off in the same direction Lynn'd left in -- *slam.* A door next to it opened and Trent poked his head out, looking so far beyond pissed off it wasn't even funny. "Good one, Jess," he said, sarcasm cranked up high enough to melt the windows. He pulled back into the room and slammed the door again. * * * Jodie came barging in the front door of Biers, followed by Mack, who grabbed her arm. "Will you *stop?*" he demanded. "First you tell me off for being involved with the Smythes! *Then* you don't talk to me! *Then,* if that wasn't bad *enough,* you turn yourself into a total *hypocrite* by--" "Jodie--" She interrupted his interruption. "--hanging *around* with them! THEM! I thought--" "I was there to get advice about *you!*" Dead silence. A long one. "Y...you were?" "A.P. came to me offering advice. Turned out the best advice he could offer me was to go talk to Lynn." A slight frown. "That's weird. Lynn suggested *I*..." Ping. "You think they planned that? So we'd have to talk *somehow?*" "I wouldn't put it past *any* of them." "You know what really stinks?" Mack got a slightly quizzical look. "It worked." "Yeah," he confessed sheepishly. "I guess it did." A long pause. "Look, Jodie..." Sigh. "Look, I know what's at stake here. I'd still rather be with you, even under the threat of that, than not. I'm sorry for the way I reacted." Jodie nodded slightly. A slight pause. "Your turn?" "I'm not apologizing." "JODIE..." "I stand by the decision I made. I was worried you would get involved -- and that it would cost you your life. If I hadn't blurted it out by accident, you *still* wouldn't know. -- But I'm sorry you got so upset about it." Stony look. "It's the best I can *do,* Mack." Another long pause. "We should go. I think we both have curfew." Jodie looked warily at Mack, then nodded. They turned and walked toward the door side by side. As they approached the door, Jodie's hand brushed Mack's. He instinctively took it, and they froze dead. They looked at each other, and a nearly inperceptible smile played over both their faces. They walked out hand in hand. In the dark corner near the bar where she was standing, Lynn got a small smile on her own face. * * * Daria kept walking blindly down the street, a look of stunned disbelief on her face. Eventually, she spoke in poleaxed tones. "He...can't *possibly* still..." Trent was driving the Plymouth, in a similar state of stunned disbelief. "She...couldn't..." At the same moment, their facial expressions got very regretful and sad, and they gave vent to rueful sighs. "Nah." ADAPTOR'S NOTES The portmanteau word "scroan" is courtesy of Spider Robinson, from _Callahan's Key_. The Callahan chronicles are the opposite of every trait we normally associate with Daria, but I have a feeling she'd like them anyway. I was only allowing myself one portmanteau word on that scale this chapter, so I had to throw out "opposister" and "antithesister" (antithesis + sister), early forms of "anti-sister." And the (notional) explosion on contact was kind of like what Rincewind thinks might happen if CMOT Dibbler ever shook hands with DMH Dibhala (from _Interesting Times_). Obligatory legal blap: Daria Morgendorffer was created (as were the rest of the Lawndale characters) by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis Lynn, and she and her neighbors are copyright 1993, 1997, 2001 MTV Networks, a Viacom company. (As Michelle Klein-Haess has pointed out, work-for-hire sucks the yolks from ostrich eggs.) Monty Python quotes and characters are copright 1970, 2001 Python (Monty) Pictures Ltd. They are here used, without the permission of their creators or owners, in the not-for-profit context of fan-fiction. The characters of Lynn Cullen, A.P. McIntyre and (arguably the rest of the Smythe Family are copyright 1999, 2001 by Janet "Canadibrit" Neilson. This storyline is copyright 2001 Canadibrit and Ben Yee and was adapted by Austin Loomis (to whom the prose format version is also copyright 2001) with their permission. All other characters, locations and incidents (of which I don't think there are any, actually) are either imaginary or used fictitiously. Any coincidence of names is regretted, and any resemblance to persons living, dead, undead, or wandering the night in ghostly torment is either purely satirical or not my fault. As a "substantially transformative" derivative work, this story is protected by the Supreme Court's decision in re Campbell v. Acuff Rose Music. It may be freely redistributed as long as this copyright notice is maintained intact, but may not be in any way redistributed for profit without the permission of the legal owners of all concepts involved. The present author hereby gives permission for any and all keepers of Daria fanfic pages to archive this work (as if I could stop them). Any publication of this story for profit without the express written permission of Austin Loomis, Janet Neilson, Ben Yee and MTV Networks (like any of that'll happen, especially the last) is strictly prohibited, and violators, if I ever decide to track them down, will be strung up by the thumbs, beaten about the head and shoulders with a free-range carrot, and then handed over to corporate lawyers who will do terrible things to them. On purpose. Austin, and good day. Al D T0 W- Q Fw^Fr O+ Ow+OH+Of m c- MV+ F:111,208,313 BB+ FCT -DT+ q fJ^fj^fD