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Chapter Seven

"Daria...?"

Quinn poked her head through the doorway of her sister's room. "Daria, I need to talk to you..."

Daria moved about like a Borg drone - aware, but completely unresponsive to the presumption of her younger sibling's entrance into the room as she collected items for her morning at school, "Please, Daria - it's about Mom and Dad. You have to talk to me: I think that something's going to happen."

Quinn sneezed and wiped her nose as Daria zipped up her bookbag and slipped it over her shoulder. "Daria -"

The redhead took a trio of steps back as she placed her hand on Daria's arm and was met with a spirit-rending glance that made her skip a breath. "What's going on, Daria?" she asked, and she stopped as Daria took a step towards her. "What's happened to you lately? I always thought that you were acting weird and everything ABOUT everything, but at least YOU didn't act like you thought I was right! Lately, you're like somebody that people see on TV that do all sorts of weird militia stuff at their schools! You don't do any school stuff, even your homework, and you don't hang out with your weird little friend even though she's always trying to catch up with you! You don't go to that pizza place - the people at school say that they don't ever see you, so you must be cutting classes! You don't even write weird stories about that girl that kills Communists, or go on the Internet, or watch TV anymore - not even that strange show with the eye at the beginning!"

Daria started to move past Quinn - but to her surprise and even more to Quinn's, the redhead stepped directly in front of Daria, blocking her way.

"Everybody knows that you're not very sociable, and going to family things with you is ALWAYS weird, but NOW you act like you're not even in our family anymore! Don't you see that something's wrong with Mom and Dad? Don't you even CARE? What's going on that's making you this way? My God, Daria - WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

There was silence as Daria stood silently, looking at Quinn with an emptiness in her eyes that reminded her of a statue she saw in a film about Egypt. She made no move to go around Quinn, or push her away; she just stood there, unmoving and uncaring about the world around her...

A sneeze broke the silence, and as Quinn instinctively turned away to wipe her nose, Daria walked past and down the hall without a single word.

*****

Jane looked at the image of herself in the bathroom mirror, almost uncaring about the listless expression on her face. This is what it feels like to lose your best friend, she thought to herself. Damnit, Daria - could you just once act like a normal person? Just once - why can't you say 'my friends are more important than my own damned pride?' Just once, couldn't you just say 'I need you to be there for me, Jane?'

God, she's my friend and I love her dearly, but damnit, why does she have to be so damned high-maintenance? Right now, there's some guy out there, somewhere between the ages of fifteen to thirty, living his life in relative peace and blissfully unaware of the hurricane named Daria that's going to hit his coast in about ten years! Man, can she be a pain in the butt!

Well, Dennis Miller said it best: 'In a nutshell, a friend is someone who can see through your external surface bullshit to the deeper and more profound bullshit that lies within.' Let's face facts - Daria's a bitch-queen on wheels who just has the volume set on low... but I'm cool with that. After all- she's my friend.

Damn.

Well, I'd better clean up, go on over there and get her. I couldn't live with the knowledge that I unleashed Daria upon some other unsuspecting teenager as a best friend... and besides, we need to talk.

She finished washing her face, and headed out of the bathroom.

*****

"Claire - tell me that it's not true!"

"Timmy, please don't..."

Timothy O'Neill leaned against the door of the Teacher's Lounge, serious concern in his eyes. "Tell me that you didn't torch his apartment!"

"I accidentally knocked the iron over into his bed when I went to fix breakfast, and a little fire started," Claire said, a touch less lilt in her voice as she continued to sip her hot jasmine tea with fresh lemon drops. "There wasn't any real harm done..."

"I'm sure Anthony would have agreed - if he hadn't been in the bed at the time! Claire, what happened?"

Going over to Claire, Timothy all but oozed heartfelt concern as he sat next to her. "I know that you've been looking for your relationship with Anthony to move forward - did something happen?"

"He had been planning on going out with someone else," she answered. "I went over, I checked the voicemail, because sometimes I get messages at his place, and he was talking to - can we not talk about it?"

"You'll hear about it soon, Claire. I heard a couple of students mention it when I came into the building this morning. It's the latest bit of gossip, so expect plenty of stares today."

"Speaking of gossip - have you heard about your favorite student? I don't think she's doing too well lately..."

Timothy nodded. "I just don't understand Daria, Claire. I thought that an opportunity like the seminar would be perfect for someone like her to show everyone what she's got - unfold her wings and allow an instructor like Dr. Armalin to help her soar! That way, she can end the year on a positive note that'll allow for good feelings and memories for herself and the other students!"

He sighed. "I must admit that Daria is truly an unusual child, but perhaps she'll come to the realization that being around others and having people around who care about you isn't necessarily a bad thing! She pushes everyone away!"

"I think that she needs help beyond what we can give her here."

Both Claire and Timothy jumped with surprise at the sound of the voice, and they spun around to see Dr. Margaret Manson rise up from the couch near the windows. She shook out her thick, heavy mane of oak-brown hair, set off with a pronounced gray streak in the right side, and smoothed her skirt down over a quite attractive and shapely pair of legs as she sat up. "I've been reading some of the material that Kyle's forwarded to Ms. Li, and we've talked a bit. I have to say -"

"Kyle?"

"Dr. Armalin - he does have a first name," Margaret smiled. "I think he's right. She's never been happy here at Lawndale High - or in Lawndale, period. She needs something more... and she needs it now."

"You've actually spent time with him?"

"We're not dating - I'm married, remember? We're just two professionals in the same line of work that talk a bit," she said, brushing the comment off. "Besides, even if I were to stray, it wouldn't be with him. He's a little too young, and he's not really my type... too forward and aggressive, and a little too sure about himself. We hit the bars every now and then, get something to eat, and we talk about things."

"Margaret, while I've never been one to gossip, I for one wouldn't mind learning a bit more about Dr. Armalin -"

"Then invite him out to lunch someday," a voice from behind said, and Timothy gasped as a hand clasped down on his shoulder. "I like raw meat - we can grab a couple of swords and head on out to the pasture, Timmy-boy... or I'll just take you out there, all alone. Talking behind my back, are you?"

Timothy squeaked and went flying out the door on a wave of terrified sobs as Kyle and Margaret watched with amusement. "Oh, dear," Claire sighed, "I'd better go and get him before classes start..."

Claire whisked herself out the door as Margaret looked over the rims of her glasses at Kyle.

"All right, Kyle - what do you want?"

"Mags, I don't understand what you're saying!"

"You scared Timothy off so you could ask me something," Margaret said, leaning on the back of the couch. "What do you need?"

"Most people would say 'a clue', but for now..."

The school psychologist suddenly focused her full attention on her academic peer.

"Are we being serious now, Kyle?"

"As a heart attack."

"Then come on over here - we can get into the closet."

Kyle's ears pricked up with interest, and he was about to speak when Margaret put her finger to her lips and rose from the couch. As Kyle watched, she went to the wall, winked at him - and peeled back a 'permanently mounted' photo of Ms. Li to reveal a microphone.

"I love what you've got to hold the door closed, Doctor Armalin."

She laughed at the look on her fellow psychologist's face and guided him out the door of the lounge, closing the door with a silence and an ease that would make a cat burglar weep with pride. "She loves to listen in," Margaret let him know as they moved away from the door. "So, what do you want?"

"I'd appreciate it if you could creatively misfile Daria Morgendorffer's psych evaluations, and everything else you have on her." Kyle asked. "That is, if someone from the media comes looking, or if somebody who should know better asks for her records just so they can 'accidentally' leave them out for the tabloid crowd..."

"Are you expecting something to go wrong here, Kyle?"

"I don't expect anything, Mags... but still, if you've got sick time - take it all, starting the second you leave today. If you don't, take it anyway. As far as everyone's concerned - you're really down with the flu, or a virus, or O.P.P. - I don't care."

Margaret looked over her glasses at Kyle, her eyes now beginning to show a touch of wariness. "You really don't want me around here, do you?"

"If I was really worried, I'd escort you out the door and to your car right this second -"

"Or better yet, we should both go straight to the main offices," Margaret said. "Remember that if - God forbid - anything happens. Ms. Li has turned that section into a fortress! You'd need a tank gun to shoot through the windows in the office or just to get in after she locks it down - and who knows what she's got back in her offices, or the school safe... She really believes in security here."

"I noticed," Kyle replied. "I've been on military bases that were easier to move around."

*****

"Daria."

The brunette turned, her hand held up to block the glare of the early morning sun, to see Mack walking up to her as she was about to go into the library. "Daria, got a moment?"

Sighing inwardly, she stopped and removed her hand from the door. "Sure, what's up?"

"Why aren't you and Jane hanging out anymore?"

Daria went silent, and Mack pressed on. "It's just not the same, not seeing you two hanging out in the hall, making cracks about stuff. You're not blaming her for what Sandi said, are you? Daria-"

"Mack, I don't want to be rude, but I do have things to do."

The handsome teenager shook his head. "I was wondering when - or if - you're coming back to the seminar. Other people are wondering, too, and what Sandi says, well, you should just blow her off. She's not worth ditching the entire thing for, you know."

"I'm working on my own." Daria's voice came out sharper and more blunt than she had intended.

"Why?"

"Because then none of you will have to be bothered by my being around," Daria said harshly, deciding to go with the earlier tone.

"We really could use you, Daria," Mack said, flashing his biggest, brightest smile her way in hopes of cracking through her fog. "You're creative, and you've got an open mind, and you've got a way of catching things that most of us miss. God, you'll love what Charles has cooked up - just to see the look on the Doctor's face, you should come back! It's going to blow him away!"

"You sound like you've all got everything taken care of. Why would you want someone like me, who'll tell you thinks that you don't want to hear?"

"Come on, Daria. You're not like that - you're just a bit more downbeat than most of us. That's not something to go running into a corner about - it just means you look at things differently."

"Then you should be glad I won't be bothering any of you with my presence. You won't have to worry about the freaky, weird 'misery chick' making the sun go away and generally being a pain."

"Why are you being this way, Daria? I like you! Most of us like you! We want you to be a part of the group! It's not like this is a torture or something - we're having fun! All of us are having fun! Come on back, Daria. Sandi's got a BIG apology to lay on you, and after you make her wipe your boots clean with her hair, we can all have fun with this seminar! After we're done with the project, I hear Charles is going to have a big party to celebrate at his parents' house. I have to say that he's going to be going all the way out, if what he's got playing NOW for the project is anywhere near an example of the way he plans out a party. Daria, you know everyone would want you to come, especially if you come back -"

"Why are you pushing so hard? What's so important about me being in Upchuck's project?"

Mack looked around, then leaned in close to Daria. "Okay. I'm not supposed to tell anything about the project, but I can tell you this. Everybody knows that you're one of the smartest people here at Lawndale - so with you aboard, we can say that ANYTHING we come up with is because of your help! Come on - Miss Nobel Prize, Planck Medal winner and former White House Science Fellow; people really believe that you're going to come out of here and DO THINGS. You gotta come back. You'd come across so cool as the superbrain brought in at the last minute to fix everything, like Spock in the first 'Star Trek' movie!"

He took a breath as a thought ran unbidden through his mind and was severely quashed: Once you do yourself and everybody else a favor by letting people off the hook for simply being regular folks - or just pay the money to have the broomstick removed...

"With Ted, Jodie - with what she's already done to help - and you - we're in the bank...and you just gotta see the part that Charles' has for Jane. I mean, you have GOT TO see this!"

"I never wanted to be in this stupid seminar anyway," Daria said, looking away from Mack. "Just leave me alone."

Mack opened his mouth to speak, closed it with a grimace, and looked at Daria for a long moment.

"You're so full of it," he said, and turned his back to her. "Whatever. Do whatever you're going to do. You always do, regardless of everyone else or whoever's going to get the short end because you're too busy massaging your ego."

He started away, then turned back. "By the way, Jodie's in the hospital. In case you didn't know. In case you actually take time out from pitying yourself to care about somebody else."

*****

"Daddy -?"

Jake looked up from the hall table, where he was going through his briefcase, to see Quinn looking down at him. "Yes, Quinn?"

"You know, we don't have breakfast together much anymore - I was thinking that I could come down, and we could - "

"Honey, your mom and sister are both gone, you're sick and I have to be at the office in fifteen minutes," Jake said, fastening his briefcase. "You shouldn't be up and about anyway."

"I just wanted to -" Her face wrinkled up. "I wanted all of us to do something together."

Quinn, you don't have to worry," he said. "Bronwyn Ruttheimer called last night after you went to sleep - she wanted to know how your mother was, and if she made it home all right. Seems that she and your mother had a business meeting that turned into a celebration - and that she's going to be working for the Ruttheimers."

"Mom's going to work for Upchuck's - I mean, Charles' parents?" Quinn was beside herself. "That's HUGE! They're like, 'Bill Gates' rich! Wow!"

"So, you see then? There's nothing to be worried about - don't worry about last night! That was an extra bottle or two of cold duck talking - God knows your mom never could handle her booze."

Jake picked up his suitcase. "I'm going to have somebody from Chez Pierre send a lunch over for you about, say, a quarter to twelve. Chicken noodle soup, warm croissants, the whole nine yards. You try to rest until then, okay?"

"Daddy -?"

Quinn came down to the middle of the staircase, a winsome expression on her face. "I love you, Daddy. We all do."

Jake smiled at her. "I know that, Quinn - and I love all of you, too."

The door closed behind Jake, and Quinn sat down upon the stairs. She began to quiver gently and closed her bathrobe about her, not realizing that her shaking was only partly because of her cold...

*****

"Helen - I am impressed."

Eric stood up from his desk as he put the phone down, and held his hand out to her. "You have just brought in the biggest client in the history of this firm. That was Bronwyn Ruttheimer's former law firm, and they'd just informed me that as of this morning, you are her family's personal attorney!"

Helen just stood and looked at him with a small, knowing smile. "My God - do you know how much money's going to come into the firm in the next year? Your commission alone for this will make you a millionaire by the end of the summer... hell, probably by the end of the month! I guess that you'll need that money for the new wardrobe you'll be getting..."

"Wardrobe?" Helen was thrown off by the comment.

"A new partner in the firm has to look the part," Eric said. "The senior partners were contacted earlier, and as of this morning -"

The door of Eric's office suddenly flew open - and as a surprised Helen stepped back, a phalanx of paralegals, office workers and lawyers (including a number of the senior partners) poured in!

"What the HELL is going on-?"

Eric passed her a copy of the office letterhead, and Helen's breath momentarily caught in her throat as she looker at the sheet of paper:

Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter, Schrecter & Morgendorffer - Attorneys-At-Law

"-Welcome to the big table, Helen - or should I say - 'partner!"

Marianne popped the cork on a bottle of chilled champagne as someone passed around glasses, and people gathered around, shaking her hand and congratulating Helen on her coup; kissing up is a good thing with this one, many of them thought.

But while the unwashed villagers came along to pay tribute, Helen's thoughts were far, far away... with only one even remotely concerning the people around her...

And this is just the beginning...

*****

"Miss Morgendorffer - what the HELL are you doing?"

Daria's eyes flew open as she heard the familiar screeching, and she lifted her head from the library table to see Ms. Li towering overhead. "Miss Morgendorffer, you're supposed to be in Dr. Armalin's seminar at this time, not acting out a 'Rip Van Winkle' tale here among the Byzantine translations! Why aren't you in that class, using your obvious intellect and academic savvy to stand out among your peers in the completion of that program in order to bring honor, and glory, to LAWNDALE HIGH?"

"Because I'm wide awake now?"

"Miss Morgendorffer, I understand that high school can be a trying time for many teenagers. Perhaps you need help. Have you ever considered seeing someone?"

"I'm seeing you right now. It makes me wish for the visual acuity of a Helen Keller."

Ms. Li took a long look at Daria. "Miss Morgendorffer - don't you understand the possible ramifications of your actions? Do you fail to fully realize that by skipping classes - especially ones as important as this one - you could be possibly imperiling your chances for placement at a first-rank university and the attendant chances for creating a life of incredible worth and opportunities? Do you really wish to forfeit the possibility of becoming the person that you could possibly become?"

"What does THAT mean?"

"It means that you will report to your class IMMEDIATELY," Ms. Li commanded, her voice holding a 'Don't argue with ME, young lady!' snap to it. "Rest assured that I will check with Dr. Armalin as to your appearance, and any further attempts at truancy - regardless of whether you are found on school grounds or off - will bring with them the strictest of repercussions! Do I make myself clear?"

Daria wordlessly lifted herself up and shoveled her things into her backpack; as she left, Ms. Li reached into her pocket for her Dictaphone and began to speak.

"Review files on Daria Morgendorffer," she said. "Consider having a special review session regarding her attitude and possible behaviors. Have Mrs. Manson, Mr. O'Neill and Dr. Armalin attend. Schedule a meeting with Miss Morgendorffer's parents. Also, due to Miss Morgendorffer's interests and past choices for writing material, increase security presence around all of her classes and known places of gathering, and increase surveillance of her and all known associates during school hours."

*****

"Nice work on the essay, ladies and gentlemen... for the most part," Kyle sighed, starting to pass back sheets of paper. "Kevin. We really need to talk about your essay - or if you're not willing to listen to me, we can always ask Miss Barch to sit in-"

"I'll do better, Doc! I swear! I promise!"

"Then I'll expect a reworked essay tomorrow."

Kyle took a long sip of the ever-present root beer. "Ladies and gentlemen - this is your 24-hour warning. Sometime tomorrow, during the school day, you will receive the information that will begin your primary project for this semester. I will only say this: Pay attention to everything around you - and pay attention to things that are usually outside of your own personal concerns."

He turned away from the blackboard to face the students - and felt a small stab of guilt in his stomach as he noticed Daria's empty seat. "Once the information source has been identified by one of you, you will report back here, then -"

"Dr. Armalin, a question," Upchuck said, raising his hand. "I'd like to know if we could use the Main Conference Room, next to Ms. Li's office. I asked permission to use it for the Group, and she said it was all right, so..."

Kyle took a long look at Upchuck, and nodded. "Fine. Now, Mr. Ruttheimer - I hope you understand that my guidelines for who can be in the 'lifepod' are non-negotiable - and I hope you're not going to try the 'we'll put them all in cryogenic suspension' routine on me. I flunked half a class in Oregon two years ago who tried that dodge."

"Why, sir?" Mack said, admirably keeping a knowing smile off his face. "I mean, it sounds good -"

"Until they failed to inform me of the method they had for making sure that the blood in the bodies of the lifepod team didn't freeze and crystallize at below-zero temperatures - a little problem that's effectively put cryonics on the shelf for now," he told the class. "If you're going to pull a technical dodge, you'd better be able to explain the HOW and the WHY of the machines' workings."

"I can do that," Ted said under his breath, doing a tiny, passable doodle of a spaceship making a 'slingshot orbit' around a star.

"I would recommend that you go over all of your materials for mistakes and last-minute changes you'd like to make," Kyle said. "Remember, this is your main project and will comprise seventy percent of your grade. I will assign grades based on the group effort and the individual efforts you've put forth towards the project - this is why the daily reports on what you've done are so important. I'll also take into account creativity, the amount of effort that you've seemed to put into the project, and for any extra touches you see fit to put in."

He reached down for his ever-present can of root beer. "Are there any other questions?"

"Only a couple, sir," Upchuck said. "You're still in the service, aren't you?"

"The Marine Corps Reserve," Kyle responded. "Because...?"

"Sir - could you wear your-" He leaned over and whispered into Brittany's ear; she whispered back and he looked back towards Kyle. "Your dress uniform, please?"

"May I ask why?"

"It... it would be appropriate."

Kyle looked at the class - and didn't like the feeling that he alone wasn't in on the joke. "Very well - I can do that. You have the rest of the hour to prepare for tomorrow. Good day, everyone."

Kyle left, and the students all gathered around Upchuck. "All right - let's go over everything once again. Andrea - have you made sure that all the football players and the other students are ready to go?"

"Every last one," she said.

"What about your group?"

"The M.I.B.'s are ready for whatever you need us to do."

"Good. I need to talk to you and Mack later. Ted?"

"The machine is ready to go - just give the word, and we're history."

"Mack?"

"My 'Gold Force' is ready," Mack said. "Everyone's got their stuff - if we go in, we can have it in the 'lifepod' in ten minutes."

"Make that four minutes. Sandi - since Daria isn't in the Group, you're now 'Blue Force' mission commander. You're also moving up to Major."

"But I thought -"

"Just because Jodie's in the hospital doesn't mean we should write her out of this, especially since she's done so much work. It wouldn't be fair for you to move up to Director of Operations in her place - besides, she might be able to show up, or at least call in from the hospital."

"But-"

"Admiral Landon is in charge. Since she's not here and we have no Deputy Director due to Professor Morgendorffer's declining to join the project, the senior staff member is temporarily in charge. That's me - but if you want me to step aside, then the next senior members of the staff would be Miss Taylor, then Colonel Mackenzie -"

"Things are fine like they are."

"HEY! What's THAT supposed to mean?"

"It wasn't an insult, Brittany," Upchuck said, and as Brittany nodded in agreement, Sandi looked into the small box that had been passed over to her to see a pair of golden oak leaves inside. "We'll choose tomorrow which of your groups goes in - the team that doesn't go in acts as the retrieval team, and whichever one of you that doesn't go - Mack or Sandi - is the backup to Jane. Jane?"

"Yo!"

"Does your suit fit all right?"

"No problem!"

"Got your protocols memorized?"

"Yup!"

"How are you on the simulator?"

"Aced it!"

"How are you feeling?"

"One hundred percent."

"Amen to that. Brittany?"

"I'll have all the security details set up like this," she said, bringing out a giant map of LHS that she took to the front of the room and unrolled across Kyle's desk. "First, I have security cover all of these points, and then, Ms Li brings the new checkpoint on-line..."

*****

Daria watched from the other side of the door as the students gathered around the desk.

"Always on the outside, Miss Morgendorffer, always looking in. I thought you were giving up that dodge, or at least going to look it over."

Daria turned to see Kyle, who came up and leaned on the wall next to the door. "There's still time, you know. There's still time to get involved. They would still accept you - if you wanted to try to talk to them. Go on in."

"I can make my own choices."

"As I've always said, 'If they make their own bed, let them die in it", he remarked tiredly. "I could do this for hours, but I'm not going to. You're seventeen. You are perfectly capable of at least some adult decisions."

"Didn't I just say that?"

"Then why don't you?"

Daria gave Kyle an annoyed look, then turned to glance back into the classroom.

"Is it really so difficult to reach out to others - or is it just easier to close yourself off?" Kyle asked. "Daria - I know about you and Trent."

The young woman whirled around. "Just who the hell are you?"

"Somebody who, despite what I said earlier, is spending much too much attention on you through this seminar!" Kyle blasted back, then reined himself in with an effort. "Look. I'm sorry about what happened with you and him. I know that you have feelings for Mr. Lane-"

"You don't know a thing about it."

"Really? 'Sneak Preview' time - so you can see that you're not the only one to go feet-first into Cupid's grinder o' love!" Kyle snapped. "You think that you're the only person to see-saw their way through what could have been a great relationship but screwed it up because you didn't move when you should've? You think that you've got carte blanche to feel sorry for yourself because just as you decide to let that certain someone know how you feel, you take a faceful of rejection and hurt? Do you really think that you've cornered the market on that feeling of pain that seems to strip out all of your insides and sit there as a hard lump right inside your gut? I know how that feels, lady. I know how it feels like it's going to just blow right out of you every time afterward when you see that person, or hear their voice, or just think about them and know that they're going to be with someone else. Don't you think that I know EXACTLY how it feels to have the love of your life enjoying life, and love, and passion in someone else's arms -"

Kyle leaned in close to Daria. " -And they are -"

He stepped away from her. "- And that you can't do a damned thing about it, no matter how much you want - because you can't make people love you. You've got two choices, Morgendorffer. Just like I had - just like everyone has. One is in that room, right through that door. Those people want to be there for you - if you let them. The other-"

He stood to the side of the empty hallway. "-Is that way. Alone. Drive on - and do it on your own. "

Getting no response from Daria, he looked at his watch. "Fine. Just thought that you should know: the lifepod event begins sometime tomorrow... and I will fail you if you don't complete the assignment."

"FINE."

Daria turned and started away.

"Have you read 'The Stand', Miss Morgendorffer?"

Turning back, Daria eyed Kyle strangely. "Of course."

"Then you must know how much you resemble the character of Harold Emery Lauder," he said. "In the novel, Harold is a flawed person who comes to an end that he by no means deserved, but that he brought upon himself nonetheless."

Kyle walked up to Daria. "The greatest of Harold Emery Lauder's flaws was that he couldn't accept the good opinions of others towards him in what was basically a new world, and a second chance for everyone there to reinvent themselves. He felt that, sooner or later, the ghosts of his persecutors from before would rise again to torment him - and even if they didn't, he was never going to forgive them and let go of his own feelings. Maybe he felt that if he forgave them, they wouldn't be punished the way they deserved. Maybe he thought that he was betraying himself in some fashion if he put it all behind himself and became 'the Hawk' - the capable, able man that many others were learning to respect."

He looked her directly in the eye. "And maybe, just maybe - he did what he did because he simply made a choice. A choice not because of his past, or his pain, or because of some esoteric rationale - but a plain, simple choice to be who he was."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're very long-winded, and somewhat dramatic when you should be just plain-spoken and get to the point?"

Kyle looked like he wanted to make a very nasty retort, but instead, he just shook his head. "If who you are now is what you always plan to be, and if this is simply because you choose to be this way - then do those around you a favor and let them know, so they can have some sort of resolution in their lives. You do owe them that much, Daria. You owe them the chance to move on, and have lives of their own."

Daria watched as the instructor started off down the hallway, but stopped and turned back to face her. "Oh, and since we've decided to take the liberty of speaking freely, Miss Morgendorffer," he said, drawing himself up in a manner that sent a flow of ice down Daria's back, "I will afford you the same. Pray that you never meet me when I am plain-spoken and to the point - and if you don't believe in God, ask someone to pray for you."

*****

"Oh, Quinn, she's just so scary!" Stacy's voice echoed through the cordless phone. "She's so much like Sandi - but she's bigger... and she's louder... and she has all of that red hair! I think that she wants to hurt me, Quinn - I really do!"
"Stacy, I think that you're being a little overdramatic," Quinn said, sniffling into a handful of tissues. "After all, it's not as if you and Upch- I mean, Charles, are planning on anything long-term, or permanent, or anything like that..."

A knock on Quinn's door caught her attention, and Helen stuck her head into the room. "Hello, Quinn!" she said, holding up a tray as she came in. "I brought you something for a late lunch - I figured that with your cold, you've probably been sleeping all day and really haven't felt like having anything, but you really should eat..."

"Stacy, I'll talk to you later, okay?" Quinn said, sitting up in her bed. "Because my mom's here, alright? Bye..." She hung up the phone. "I'm not hungry. Daddy had lunch sent over to me from Lauriel's restaurant - I mean, Chez Pierre."

Helen took a moment to calm herself from the unanticipated verbal swipe. "Well, I'll just sit it here on your dresser - you can have it later, but you really should eat while it's warm -"

"Mom - you're going to get Dad to mess around with Lauriel so you can get a divorce, aren't you?"

Helen would later recall that she had never been blindsided as badly in her entire life - not by an opposing lawyer, not by a client, or by a man - as Quinn had just done.

"WHAT?"

"I'm not as smart as you or Daria-" So you both keep saying, Quinn thought. One day, I might just show the both of you... "-But I know some things. Mom - don't you love Dad anymore?"

"Well, yes, of course I do!"

"Then why are you doing things that'll make him want to leave - or just find someone else? Mom - the taping was important to him! He wanted us there, and he was - Daddy was important to those people! They listened to him... they had -"

Quinn blew her nose, and reached for more tissues. "Mom, they had respect for Daddy! I should have known that Daria wasn't going to show, with everything that happened to her at school -"

"What happened to Daria at school?"

"-But everybody knew that it was a slap in the face when you didn't show up! And then later, when you burst in like Heather Locklear or Susan Lucci and accused Lauriel of doing all sorts of things with Daddy - Mom, how can any of those people want to have any respect for Daddy when you make it just as plain as day that you don't?"

"Quinn, I think that you're not feeling well, and you're imagining things that aren't there," Helen said, controlling her voice and her temper with effort. "I love and respect your father more than any man that I've ever met."

"Then why do you talk to him like he's less than a pet, and all but tell him out loud that both he and what he can do are both worthless?"

"Quinn, I think that you're definitely imagining things."

"Then you're not going to try to get Dad to leave you, so you can divorce him and say it's all his fault?"

"Quinn. Eat your lunch... and go back to sleep."

"I said that I'm not hungry," the redhead said, and as she turned her back, missed the beyond-furious look on her mother's face. "I'll eat when Daddy gets home."

*****

"Is it just me, or do we all look like people who shouldn't be eating a meal this pricey because we aren't in the mood to appreciate it?"

Jake looked up from his peppered beef shavings and pasta to witness the dour looks on the faces of Lindy, Denise, Wendy, Warren and Anthony. "Tell me about it," he replied to Warren's question. "I'm tired of some of the crap I've been dealing with."

Lindy skulked with her fork among the overstuffed, crab-filled ravioli in a white vegetable sauce while Denise barked out, "We brought in a clue in a big case, and now that there's news coverage and the possibility of something really big behind this, it's too important for us to handle! Our Lieutenant gave us the case only because the family's black, he thought the girl was a closer junkie, and he didn't expect us to turn anything up except that she wasn't anything like her squeaky-clean press - "

"The legacy of being stuck for so long on the vice squad," Lindy chimed in morosely.

"-But surprise! This morning, we got called in and told to turn the case and all of our information over to Mintner's favorite lap-dogs without delay - they needed to prepare for the press conference at noon!"

"They want to announce how THEIR excellent police work may make a dent in the narco-traffic in our schools, and how they're working to keep our dear children safer and drug-free," Lindy finished. "I'm glad I'm off-duty now. I can actually make use of this wine."

"Lauriel doesn't want to go out with me," Warren said, draining the last dregs from his glass of pinot noir. "She returned my call this morning, when she got back into town. She said that she didn't think that she should be involved with any of your friends, Jake, because then your wife would think that it's just a smokescreen so you and she could sneak around. Damn. I managed to get tickets for Yo-Yo Ma's performance at the Arts Center next week."

"Before she called you, she told me that if I so much as sneezed in the lady's direction, she'd fire me and let the police have me," Wendy groaned, pausing to slam a shot of single-malt Scotch. "That'll help a bit. It pisses me off that she'll protect people who don't give a damn about her and want to see her suffer, and that bi-"

Jake shot her a venomous look, but Wendy was in no mood to even think about backing down.

"What do you SEE in that rampaging bitch?"

"She may be just that, but she's MY rampaging bitch. Lay off."

Wendy sat back in her chair and sulked. "Why are the two of you protecting her? She's worse than Jerri Manthey is! If she really cared about you, she'd be around supporting you instead of making you feel bad about yourself 24/7 - and you know it!"

Jake inwardly agreed, almost breaking down and telling the group about Helen's vicious put-downs of the evening before. No - better not give Wendy anything more to dislike about Helen...

"Why the long face, Tony?"

Anthony looked up. "Claire's on the warpath. She checked the answering machine and heard Lauriel's message that she doesn't want to date me now, either - thank Helen for me. Claire's jealous because she thinks that we have a relationship, and to prove it, she torched my bed."

Warren looked over at him. "Who'd you have in it at the time?"

Anthony wasn't in the mood, either. "Why do you care? Any woman in my bed would be out of YOUR league!"

"Yeah - and to prove it, you woke up next to the prostitute," Wendy snapped, drawing Anthony's attention.

"No, that's the memory of your eighteenth birthday," he returned. "I'm not saying you're a working girl, English - but your bed does have a NASDAQ listing..."

"All of you -SHUT UP!" Denise hissed. "Think about the REAL problems you have - and don't snap at each other!"

From his station near the foyer, where individuals waited to be seated, Victor looked up and gave the group a glowering look but said nothing. He wasn't a fan of anyone at the table, but he really despised the women there. He had dated Wendy a grand total of twice - and the second date was cut short by the tiny redhead's peals of laughter after they had stripped down in his bedroom... He winced, his face going flush at the memory - and he didn't even want to recall his memory of meeting the blonde and the Black woman. Pity: they looked like they would have made for a memorable evening, one worth a thousand dollars...

"Uh, Jake - why do these two both think they were going out on dates with Lauriel?"

"Because they were," Jake told Wendy, who almost choked on her drink.

"Really? What were they supposed to be - the warm-ups before her real date?"

"Wendy - shut up."

Everybody at the table blinked hard at the sudden arctic blast behind Jake's calmly stated words, and Wendy opened her mouth to speak, but then filled it with a forkful of breaded turkey medallions and white wine sauce.

"Jake... did you and Helen have words last night?" Anthony chose his words carefully, as though he was feeling his way through a minefield.

"Yes. That's all any of you need to know."

"Jake -"

"I will be all right, Lindy. I don't want to see you and Denise as badges, so I'll behave myself."

"Maybe you should check into a hotel room for a night or two - let the two of you cool off some," Warren offered, noticing (as the others did) the truly cool, calm manner Jake was projecting - the demeanor he affected just before things around him went 'boom'. "Just grab a couple of videos and a twelve-pack from the store, rack out and relax! After everything's that's happened over the last few weeks to you, nobody could say that you don't deserve a rest!"

"You need to get laid," Wendy said. "You're far too tense."

The six adults sat in silence for a long time. "You know, if we were all in college - we'd be in serious need of a road trip now," Warren said. "Shame that we're adults..."

*****

"Mrs. Li - I understand that my daughter Daria's had some troubles here at school lately," Helen said, sitting back on the living room couch with cell phone in hand. "Could you tell me anything about that?"

Angela took a deep breath and steadied herself. News about certain people in Lawndale traveled like a firestorm (okay, gossip), and Helen's new job was the immediate topic of conversation AND concern among those in the know... More than a few individuals shuddered, feeling that the teaming of two women like Helen Morgendorffer and Bronwyn Ruttheimer was an action easily seen as - portentous...

Also, with the newfound wealth Helen would certainly acquire as Bronwyn's personal attorney (or 'consigliere', given the tactics Bronwyn was said to use in her business dealings), she would have the financial power to cause no end of grief to the power base that Angela had come to see Lawndale High as. The high school was a successful, nationally ranked institution (because of her efforts, of course) - but a vengeful, wealthy Helen Morgendorffer could bring her plans to a screaming halt...

Better to tell her everything about her prized baby kit - besides, Angela reasoned quickly, maybe having the mother on her side could provide the incentive necessary to convince Daria that academic success was the best way to stave off problems.

"Mrs. Morgendorffer, I'm afraid that the troubles with your daughter may be far greater than you were led to believe," Angela replied, the gravity of her tone resonating through Helen's receiver. "Daria, as I'm sure you're aware of, had been selected to participate in an exclusive academic seminar here at - LAWNDALE HIGH, which is being taught this semester by a educator and psychologist of national caliber and renown. With the intellectual prowess that she has demonstrated, Daria should have been the star of the seminar."

"Wait a minute. What do you mean - 'should have been?"

"For some reason, Daria has proven resistant towards inclusion in the seminar. She refuses to participate in the class discussions - except to lash out with her own brand of venomous scorn towards everything about her, she hasn't made an effort to exert herself beyond the minimum needed for a satisfactory grade, and she doesn't attempt to bond with the others in the class."

"I see."

"A couple of days ago, she was involved in a verbal altercation with several members of the class," Angela continued, grateful beyond words that the subzero tone Helen's voice held was in no way meant for her. "As you know, due to the latest incidents at schools across the country and the possible causes of these unfortunate tragedies, we here at LAWNDALE HIGH have adopted a 'zero tolerance' policy towards all forms of intimidation, be it verbal, physical or mental. To be honest - the teachers who were in the vicinity were not certain that this incident fell under the zero tolerance policy, as it occurred during an independent study session for the seminar. I can assure you, however, that those teachers have been reprimanded for not taking the initiative and stepping in."

"Of course."

"Ever since that incident, it has come to my attention that Daria has either been skipping the seminar, or avoiding school altogether. I myself came upon her earlier today; she had opted to skip the seminar meeting session in favor of sleeping in the library! When I questioned her about her reasons for not being in the session, she became insolent, uncooperative and quite flippant with her responses!"

Angela took a deep breath and plunged forward. "I must inform you that I am quite worried about the possible aftereffects of her current behavior upon her academic future, Mrs. Morgendorffer. QUITE WORRIED. If her behavior does not conform to school standards IMMEDIATELY, then I must tell you that I can not in good conscience overlook her actions - even though she is by far one of the most talented and potentially influential minds ever to grace the halls of LAWNDALE HIGH. "

And now, time to offer the olive branch of peace to a potential ally...

"Mrs. Morgendorffer - I admit that, in the past, we have had our differences. However, I would be remiss in my duties and my charge as an educator if I let anything stand in my way of attempting to ensure that a potentially superior intellect such as your daughter's is nourished and allowed to bloom to its fullest. My wish is for Daria to become a premiere academic talent - but I strongly caution you that, unless decisive, overt steps are taken without delay... "

Angela was immensely proud of herself: even though she had not stepped on a stage in over twenty years, her theatrical skills had precisely the desired effect on the other end of the conversation...

"Thank you very much, Ms. Li," Helen said, her voice brittle with a seething, barely capped inner fury. "I would appreciate it if you would keep me apprised of my daughter's activities..."

"Of course," Angela said, marveling at how she managed to keep every bit of triumph out of her voice. "In fact, I was planing on having a special conference with several members of the Lawndale High faculty to discuss this. If you and Mr. Morgendorffer would care to attend, your input would be more than welcomed."

"I would..."

"I'll call you with the details," Angela concluded. "And Mrs. Morgendorffer - thank you for taking an interest in your daughter's academic career. Most parents simply shuttle their children off to the schools as though we were a daycare center."

"That won't be the case with my daughters," Helen swore. "Not anymore. Goodbye, Ms. Li."

As the phone line disconnected, Angela poured herself a celebratory drink. "And with her mother now watching and making her exert herself academically - who knows how far she'll go...?"

*****

Helen set her cell phone down and let her head fall back when the sound of the doorbell ringing brought her to her feet. "Please, let this be a solicitor, or a Jehovah's Witness..." she growled, flexing the fingers of her left hand like talons as she went to the door. "Please, let this be someone who doesn't know when to quit..."

"Hello, Aunt Helen!" Erin said, reaching in to hug Helen as the door - and drawing back as she saw her aunt's hand. "Planning on scratching someone's eyes out?"

"Erin!" she gushed, her temper doused as she held out her arms to embrace her niece. "How wonderful to see you! How is everyone?"

"Mom and Grandmother are just fine, Aunt Helen," Erin said, passing into the living room as they separated. "Aunt Amy's somewhere in Europe - last I heard, she was taking a vacation in Greece. Swimming in the Aegean Sea, seeing the ruins of the Parthenon, getting massages from Greek men with bodies like the ancient gods, and getting drunk on Ouzo. I almost wish I had listened and gone with her."

"Well, that's Amy," Helen reflected. "I wonder what she's doing that's so stressful that she's always taking these exotic vacations?"

"Dating," Erin wisecracked. "It's the freaking jungle out there, You've got a good man, so you don't have to worry about it anymore."

"Well, you've got Brian, so you don't have to worry anymore either," Helen said, motioning Erin towards a seat. "What are you doing in town?"

"Visiting an old friend," she said, smoothing out her dress as she sat down. "I'm staying for a few days - you know, catching up on old times and other things. I've got some free time, though, and I knew that you'd never forgive me if I didn't come over and say hello!"

"Erin, you know that I'm not like that," Helen faux-pouted. "How's that career of yours going with those cat stories you write - and don't think that I didn't notice you not mentioning Brian. Didn't he come with you from Washington?"

"Brian and I have been separated for about four months, Aunt Erin," the young woman responded. "He wants to reconcile, but I don't think that I want to go back into that muddle again. On the plus side, though - my newest book will be out next month!"

"My niece, the author," Helen beamed. "Maybe you could talk to Daria. I think that she wants to be a writer, too - with all of the spy stories that she writes."

"Ugh," Erin said, cringing for effect. "Don't mention 'spy stories' to me. Just thinking about any of that stuff all but makes my skin crawl."

"Really," Helen said, rising from the couch. "Bad taste from the wedding, I'd imagine. Would you like something to drink - a cup of coffee, or some juice?"

"Some orange juice on ice," Erin said, calling out after her. "Hey, what's going on with your life now? Have they come to their senses and made you a partner yet at that law firm?"

"Oh, it's funny that you mention that," Helen's voice came from the kitchen. "I decided to take the day off after a little celebration we had at the office this morning..."

Erin's eyes were huge as Helen re-entered the living room, a glass of orange juice in one hand and a glass of 'Cran-Apple' in the other. "Are you saying that -? Aunt Helen! Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Erin," she replied, handing off the orange juice and retaking her place on the couch. "Actually, it's much more than that - the partnership's almost a side-effect. Last night, I became the personal attorney to Bronwyn Ruttheimer."

Erin's eyes became even wider. "The Irish mob lady whose husband's a billionaire computer geek? Aunt Helen, I didn't know you wanted to play in those leagues-"

"Bronwyn is not in the Irish mob, Erin - those rumors started because she's a strong woman who does what it takes to get ahead," Helen said firmly. "So, tell me why the married life's not working out for you... what happened?"

"Like I said - I didn't want anything to do with all of that 'cloak-and-dagger' business, or anybody that close to it," was her answer. "It got old VERY fast. Brian also didn't want me to keep writing - 'It's time for us to have a family, so we won't be too old to enjoy our grandchildren.' I really don't want kids right this moment - and I also decided that I didn't want any with him."

"Well, he's not as bad as some of the others who came around chasing after you," Helen said, sipping at her drink. "I remember hearing about some of the absolutely worthless muscle-heads from the local colleges, or the military types - you always had a bad hang-up for men in uniform, Erin."

"Hey, you were always into hippies and the 'save the world' types, Aunt Helen," Erin said playfully, "but I seem to recall Mom saying that that you first met Uncle Jake when HE was in a uniform..."

"Yes, but he came out of that soon enough -"

"Did he, Aunt Helen? You girls in the sixties worked REALLY fast!"

"Oh, stop it, Erin. You're almost as bad as your mother!" Helen teased her niece. "Anyway, your Uncle Jake wasn't in the service - and he was a lot more sensitive and intelligent than some of yours. I recall hearing about the football player from A & M who nearly choked and hung himself on the extension ladder when he tried to get up to your room - and then there was the boy who got himself hired as Mother's personal assistant so he could be close to you. Whatever happened to him, anyway?"

"Samuel's supposed to finish his master's at USC this fall," Erin said. "He's coming back to Rutherford to shoot his thesis film about Grandmother this July. I think she told him to come then because she's -"

"Going to be sorely disappointed if she's thinking about giving me a surprise birthday party and letting her old boy-toy film it," Helen said. "I'll have to call her and tell her that I've always hated surprises. Speaking of surprises, what about that Marine that followed you all the way back from Washington? I can still remember Mother telling me about the smart mouth on that one; he actually carried himself as though he could do more than hold a rifle!"

Erin could barely keep the grimace off her face, but her cheeks flushed slightly as she answered. "He was a Marine pilot, got promoted to full colonel at thirty AND had gotten his Ph.D. two years earlier, Aunt Helen. He wasn't a dummy."

"Oh, a doctorate," Helen replied. "He must have been the one who read the comic books to the other Marines and translated the episodes of 'Zena' for them."

"He graduated sixth in his class at Annapolis!"

"Oh, so he was trained to actually understand what the episodes meant."

"Aunt Helen, he gave briefings for the President and his staff."

"I didn't know that they did finger-puppet shows in the White House."

Erin decided to change the topic: she knew her aunt had a lingering resentment of some things military and all things Marine because of her father-in-law. "So, how's everything here at the Fortress Morgendorffer? How's Daria and Quinn?"

"Quinn's upstairs - and Daria's off somewhere. She's supposed to be in this high-powered seminar at her school that's reserved for the best students, but for some reason - God only knows what it is THIS time - she's rebelling against the whole thing and refusing to participate."

"Maybe she doesn't like it."

"It's supposed to give students a chance to think for themselves. When has she ever had a problem with THAT?"

"Maybe it's the teacher."

"No - he's supposedly been doing this here for a number of years. The kids apparently love the class."

"Cool. What about Uncle Jake; is he -"

"You certainly seem eager to defend that waste of sheepskin - that Marine with the doctorate - especially since you haven't seen him in a couple of years," Helen said, abruptly shifting gears in the conversation. "Who's your friend here in town, Erin?"

Erin cringed again. Helen could smell blood in the waters of any conversation and sure enough, her dorsal fin was riding high in the water; the fact that Helen didn't want to discuss Jake and skewed the conversation away from him never occurred to her.

"I just realized that your mother and your grandmother didn't call to mention you'd be in town, and they always do. That means that you didn't tell them you were coming here - so, who's your friend... and what does he do?"

"Aunt Helen, it's not like that, he's just a teacher -"

"So you won't mind introducing me to him soon."

"I don't know if that's possible. He's got an important class that he's teaching now, and the most important part's coming up soon, so he's got to concentrate -"

"Are you staying with him?"

Erin looked down and saw her feet hit the verbal trip-wire. "Yes, but-"

"Let's have lunch with him tomorrow - one-fifteen, how's that for you?"

"He's a teacher - he can't-"

"Let's make it an early dinner. Four-thirty, at the Settlement."

"I can't make appointments for him, Aunt Helen -"

"We can always call back home to Rutherford, Erin, and have Mother and Rita come up for a family dinner. That should give everybody enough time to clear their schedules-"

"Erin - is that you?"

Erin took full advantage of the new voice on the scene to leap up and go to the stairs. "Quinn? Quinn, is that you?"

"I thought I heard your voice, but I thought I was dreaming because of the cough syrup," a bleary-eyed Quinn said, sitting down on the top step. "I've got some sort of bug; it should go away soon enough."

"Not feeling good at all, hmn?"

"Well, even though my eyes hurt, they still work - so I don't even want to comment on that dress you're wearing," the redhead continued, looking her cousin over. "Married life makes your fashion choices go downhill, doesn't it?"

"I just tossed something on, Quinn," Erin said. "Jeez, give me a break. You don't have to dress like a fashion plate every single day, all right?"

"Wow, and I thought I was sick," Quinn said. "You must be really into your husband, because only love makes you that blind."

*****

"Do you know what I truly appreciate, Miss de la Ribas? An artist in pain, an artist with a tormented soul."

Lauriel refused to look up at Victor's raisin-wrinkles of a face.

"Artists always seem to perform much better when they're in pain. You, I see, are no exception to the rule - your dishes today certainly highlight your culinary skills as never before. You must certainly have strong feelings for Mr. Morgendorffer."

The sound of a blade striking a cutting board as it passed through celery stalks was the only sound that came from Lauriel's general area.

"The clientele has been justified in their quite vocal and unanimous praise of your works today. I understand that the gentleman who writes the culinary page in the local rag decided to come in today and sample the broiled shrimp in garlic sauce, not to mention gazing at you like a lost puppy," he continued, taking a moment to sample a cracker and a spoon of foie gras. "Apparently, he approves highly of your cooking and your looks. You should meet more married men so that their wives can also call you 'bitch'. After a month or so, I'm sure that you'd achieve five-star status, and then-"

Victor gave off a sudden, pitiful sound that might have resembled the mixing and premature birth of a scream, a whimper and a near-orgasmic grunt. He collapsed upon the kitchen floor into a furiously tightening ball of white-hot pain expanding out from his crotch, tears flowing freely as he tried to recover from the perfectly-executed strike to his groin.

"I really needed to do that to someone," Wendy said, grim satisfaction in her eyes as she walked around the slightly squirming lump of agony on the floor and over to Lauriel. "Besides, I didn't want you getting fired. Keeping you happy and cooking allows me to pay my bills, stay reasonably well-dressed, and go out for dinner on occasion without having to suffer through a date."

"Wendy -"

"Before you say a word, unclench your hand and put that boning knife down - the one you've been holding since that jerk opened his mouth."

Lauriel looked down, and drew back as she saw her fingers had gone white as they grasped the blade. "Look, let the other chefs handle the load - you need the time off."

"I need to keep occupied, Wendy."

"I'm your friend, Spanish oak, so I can tell you that you need to go home and get some rest. Maybe we'll stop be the local strip club and see what guys are bumping and grinding tonight - no, not your scene. You need warm, scented waters, liquor, and a really hot guy to massage your every tired muscle."

She snapped her fingers, and three incredibly handsome young men stepped into the kitchen. "I have come prepared."

"I think you need to take your herbal shampoo commercial somewhere else," Lauriel said, but the tiny redhead smiled a thin smile and snapped her fingers again.

"Boys. Car. Now."

"What are you doing - put me down right now!"

"Sorry, Lauriel - but this comes under 'protecting the interests and livelihood of the people with the show," Wendy said, a smirk failing to hide itself as she followed the three hunks of beefcake and the squirming chef through the main thoroughfare of the restaurant. "You need rest, relaxation and release - and not in that order. Boys - home!"

*****

"Jake!" Helen exclaimed, drawing up with a start as she walked into the kitchen and saw Jake sitting at the table, a tray of finger sandwiches in front of him and a can of soda in hand. "I didn't see you - I didn't hear you come in - when did you come home?"

"Just after you told Erin that you were going to shoot down your mother's idea for a surprise party for you this summer," he said, reaching for a BLT held together with a red cocktail pick in the shape of a sword. "That'll open up a weekend for us..."

"You've been here at least half an hour? Why didn't you come in and say something to Erin?"

"Is she gone?"

"No, she's upstairs. Erin helped Quinn back to her room because she was feeling a bit queasy."

"I had some medicine dropped off for Quinn when I had her lunch sent over today."

"That was very thoughtful of you, Jake."

"She's my daughter. Did you think that I wouldn't have enough on the ball to notice that she hasn't been well? Thanks a lot, Helen."

The memory of Quinn's words from earlier flooded through Helen, but she pushed them away as she moved further into the kitchen. "Jake - I want to apologize for last night, no... I want to apologize for the way I've been acting lately. I had no right to disrespect you the way I did last night, or to come in and ruin your big night..."

"You don't need to try to apologize-"

"Yes, I do. I do need to tell you how sorry I am, for all the things that I've done and haven't done for you lately. I guess... I know that I haven't been as good of a wife as I should be."

Jake chewed at his sandwich as he watched his wife come over to the table and sit down. "I know that it seems that sometimes I'm too intense, or too driven, or that I don't take the time to stop and appreciate the things that I've got - like you, Jake - but that's going to change now that I'm a partner. Now that I'm Bronwyn's personal attorney, I'll stop working all hours of the day and night like a field hand, and start spending more time with you and the girls. We can start being more of a family - a real family, instead of strangers with the same address and last name. This money and this new job; it's the beginning of a new chapter for all of us, Jake. Quinn and Daria will be able to go to any school that they've ever dreamed of, and you'll be able to finally do what you've wanted - quit that consultant's job and just go travel - travel, and really work on your dream of being a chef. Travelling all over the world, and learn about the foods of countries all over the globe... You'll be able to study with chefs in France, in Singapore, in Nepal if you want."

"And you'd come with me?"

"Not all the time," she said, playing with a five-cheese on rye, "but I'd spend so much time with you that you'd get sick of my face! We could explore the world together, and finally just toss this boring life in Lawndale off to the side!"

"But your boss would still live here."

"I could come to help her out at a moment's notice, but we don't have to live here," she said. "We could live anywhere we wanted. What's important is that you know that we have so many options - and that I love you, and that I'll support you in whatever you want, because you've been there to support me for all of these years."

"That must be one hell of a raise you've gotten," Jake said, and Helen laughed at the expression on his face. "Think you can spring for a cruise on one of those luxury yachts - you know, one of those weekend things where the crew goes below decks and can't hear anything going on topside?"

"I think that we can afford to have any kind of cruise that we want, Jakey," she told him, and reached in to give her husband a long, lingering, soulful kiss.

"I'm glad to hear it..."

After they parted, Helen brushed her husband's hair away from his face. "Bronwyn wants us to come over to the estate for dinner soon - you know, a little celebration for all of us for my signing onboard. I'm thinking, maybe next Wednesday or so would be a good day to go over. What do you think?"

"I think that I can be there to help my wife celebrate," he said, kissing Helen's ear.

"Helen - what else is there?"

The lawyer shrugged. "Well, there IS something that we do need to take care of - but not necessarily tonight, though."

"What's that, honey?"

"Daria," she said, and spent the next few minutes explaining what Angela had told her. "I think that it's time for another 'family court.'

"I wonder if we need to, Helen. Maybe we should just talk to her - things haven't been easy for her lately, and-"

"Jake, if you expect me to support you, then I have the right to expect your support on matters like this! What Daria needs is to know that we expect a certain level of standards in this family!"

"Yes, Helen."

Jake nodded his consent, but as Helen reached for a second finger sandwich, the familiar, fawning visage of capitulation that Jake wore flowed away from him like quicksilver to reveal a sharpened, hardening image that couldn't possibly hold any trace of affection for the woman before him. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, but there was no doubt that it had been there...

*****

"Wow, now that's some shooting star!" Erin said, she and Quinn watching from the window as the show in the sky began to fade into the faintly lit twilight from the distant horizon. "What is it in those things that makes them burn and throw off sparks like that?"

She looked over and saw Quinn, her eyes closed and lips just barely moving. "What are you doing, Quinn?"

"Wishing on a star, silly," she informed her cousin. "I thought you knew that."

"I haven't heard it in a long time."

Erin closed the shades and turned back to Quinn. "I wonder why they burn in different colors...?"

"You should find out and then write a book where your cat Samantha learns all about it," Quinn said, crawling back under her covers. "That was just so pretty and sparkly all that, like Nature decided to have her own fireworks show."

"That's not a bad idea for a book, Quinn. I'll have to talk to - what?"

"I was just wondering when you were going to tell me all about the guy you came to town to see, Erin."

*****

A young couple walked hand-in-hand from the front door of the home next to Fortress Morgendorffer and down the walk to the young man's car, their eyes misted over by equal amounts of true affection and barely-restrained, animal lust for one another.

The twosome somehow managed to get into the car and still share a kiss that resembled an ad for Crazy Glue. The young man inserted the ignition key, then turned back to the woman beside him and shared another wholly inappropriate and yet understandable embrace when an unbelievably loud and disbelieving female voice rang out through the night air of the neighborhood.

And the voice said only one word.

"HIM?"

The mood was shattered - for the moment - for the two lovebirds as they turned and stared with disbelief at the Morgendorffer home.

"Wonder what that was about?"

"Who knows - the Morgendorffers are all a bit too tightly wound. Kiss me."

"That's a start."

*****

"I can't believe you're going out with Daria's teacher!"

"Why?"

"He dresses like, like - he dresses like a teacher!"

"He looks really good in his Marine Corps dress blues," Erin retorted. Or out of them, she thought but didn't say. "He knows how to dress, but he just wants to blend in and look like everyone else. I've known him for a long time, Quinn. He's a good man, and when he wasn't making me crazy, he really makes me happy."

Quinn looked at her cousin for a long moment. "You're crazy about him. You really, really like him!"

Erin just smiled and shook her head.

"Well, that's different. If he makes you happy, then that's a good thing!"

"Why is it different that I lo- that I really like him?"

"If you're just dating, then you're supposed to get the absolute best looking guy out there, as well as the one who's got the best car - but if you're in 'lo' -" She smiled a gentle smile at Erin. "-Then nothing like that matters, because you love who you love. You can't really choose who that is because it just happens and you don't see it coming! I mean, it's called 'falling in love' because if you saw what you were walking towards, you'd hop right over or back away slowly!"

"Quinn, is it just because you're sick, or are you starting to grow up?"

"Well, GOD, Erin - I'm not that mean! Sometimes you get lucky enough to love somebody that can love you back AND wants to! That's when you should feel good, but also lucky because sometimes you love somebody with everything you have inside, even though you know they can't love you back even if they wanted to for some dumb reason or other. It could be even worse - if you have to stop loving them because everybody around you says that you're supposed to be with someone else that THEY all say is the one you can love, and that you're wrong to want the one you love already. THAT has to be the worst thing I can imagine."

My God - someone's stopped wading in the shallow end of the emotional pool. Quinn with depth... Hell better start checking out the Weather Channel for cold fronts. "Speaking from experience?"

"No - from watching things around me. Erin... can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me anything, Quinn."

"Erin, you can't tell anybody. Really. I mean really, you have to keep this a secret."

Erin moved her chair closer to Quinn's bed. "I promise..."

"Not even to the Doctor."

"Okay... Quinn, isn't this something you could talk to Daria about?"

"Daria's out there, Erin. She doesn't care about anybody anymore. She doesn't care about herself, so why should I talk to her?" Quinn remembered trying to talk to her sister earlier, and shook her head. "She wouldn't care about this."

"Aren't you exaggerating a little? I mean, you're sick, so you may have thought that she's acting worse than she was..."

"No - we were talking this morning - and her face was just, like, blank, no matter what I said! She's been like this - always all weirded out and stuff, ever since she started taking this stupid special class for the brains that your 'friend' teaches! The way her face looked, it reminded of that statue over in the desert with the Pyramids - the Sphincter, or something like that...

Erin mercifully let that one pass. "Well, I don't believe that Daria's that bad, but I promise I won't talk to her either about... whatever you want to tell me."

Quinn's voice went low, and Erin leaned in to hear. "It's about Mom and Dad being together..."

*****

"Janey."

Jane looked up from her seat to see her brother enter the huge LHS Swimming Center - a not-so-pretentious name, considering that many prestigious swimming events, including a number of Olympic try-outs and world-class amateur swim meets, had been held there. "That football guy said that you'd be in here. Whoa - that spacesuit is racked. Real?"

"Oh, yeah. Ruttheimer money gets you the real deal."

Trent sat down next to his sister in the orange pressure/survival suit, and smiled as she put her head on his shoulder. " What's up with the 'Steve Austin' stuff? Doing a space project or something for class?"

"Full-power simulation. Have to have it on so they can watch my med-stats in Operations."

"Huh?"

Janey motioned with her thumb, and Trent's eyes went wide as he say what was at the other end of the Olympic-sized competition pool. "Man. Some people just have to be overachievers. What is it?"

"Would you believe me if I said that it's supposed to be - hey, wait a minute! How'd you get in here?"

"Like I said - football guy. Gave him your slice of pizza. We'll get more later." He smiled again. "He said you were looking a little down when I came looking for you. I told him I'd come and cheer you up."

"Man, Kevin is so gonna get it."

"Looks like that thing on UPN. Does it work?"

"Trent."

"Yeah. Right. It's a full-scale mock-up. This is for Doc Kyle's class, isn't it? I guess I was right about overachievers. It's been a long day."

The two Lane siblings sat quietly for a long time.

"Trent."

"Yeah, Janey?"

"About the other day... you know, about you and Daria at the mall-"

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Daria had some things that she had to clear out about me. It doesn't have anything to do with how she feels about you."

Jane looked at her brother in surprise.

"I heard. Rough deal," he finished. "You've got to be there for your friends, Janey, even when they don't want you there."

"But she won't even talk to me! I haven't seen her in days!"

"She'll come back. You're too good of a friend to Daria for her to just let go. You just wait and see."

They were silent again. "Trent... what if I don't want her back as a friend?"

"But you do."

"I know," she grudgingly admitted. "You know, after Sandi -"

"Go ahead," Trent verbally nudged. He knew about what happened in the cafeteria. "I heard about what happened."

"Trent - see this stupid thing I'm wearing?"

"Yeah."

"I like wearing it!"

"Not following you."

"I like the fact that they thought of me for this part in Upchuck's plan! I like it that I'm part of a group, doing something fun - it's a bit tough, and I don't necessarily like everybody that's here, but I like being here! I'm enjoying myself! This is something that'll look good on my school record - I didn't do it just for that, but it's still nice - and people'll say good things about it! Trent - doing this makes me happy!"

"What's the problem?"

"If Daria was here, we'd spend all our time off to the side cutting everybody down who's in this, and afterwards, we'd go grab some pizza and then go watch TV," Jane said, looking down at her boots. "Trent - I love her like she's our sister, but we never did anything constructive when we hung out together. It's like when you ate my gummi bears for my art project and Daria went with me to that new superstore - the store girl kept running from us. We finally caught up to her and it was Andrea - you know her. She was running from us because she thought we were there just to 'cut her up like we do everybody else."

"Were you?"

"NO! Trent, you only get to make fun of people and get away with it if you're popular!"

Trent nodded once, deeply, like a master imparting sage wisdom to a student.

"Right."

"Huh?"

"The girl was scared of you two, right?"

"Yeah?"

"She thought that the two of you would make fun of her, right?"

"Yeah?"

"And the way she said it was like you and Daria do it all the time."

"Yeah."

"Do the math."

"I don't get it."

"You and Daria are popular."

"NO."

"Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it's not true. Daria's a smart, pretty girl who speaks her mind to whoever's in her face. You're a cool art chick who doesn't have her parents around, and lives with her brother who plays guitar in a band. You two don't kiss up to the man. You wear what you want to wear and do what you want to do instead of waiting for some magazine to tell you to do it. You and Daria live your lives instead of letting life wear you."

"You're out there."

"People want to be like you two. That's what popular is."

"I don't want to be like those people you see on TV! I don't want people copying me or doing stuff just because I do it! I just want to be me!"

"And that's why you're popular."

"You're full of it."

"Not everyone has to be popular with the same groups. The people who look up to Daria's sister wouldn't deal with you, and the folks who look up to you think that she's a 'High School Barbie'. Just go with it."

Jane's face was aghast. "Why don't you just shoot me?"

"Can't. Somebody in the family has to grow up and be a success. That way, I can park my van in their back yard, camp out until I'm seventy, and sponge off them for juice, buttered toast and pork chops with applesauce. You're it."

The young woman put her arms around her brother. "So, what does this revelation have to do with getting Daria to stop hiding from me?"

"For you, nothing. You're just gonna keep on going like before. Daria - well, she has to stop hiding from everyone, Jane. She has to stop hiding, even from herself, and from the truth. Daria's got her own idea of what the world is all about, and where she is in it. It's not a good thing, Janey, because she doesn't want to change that view. Maybe she's too comfortable with the way she thinks things are, even though it hurts; maybe she just can't deal with the fact that everybody changes, eventually."

Trent looked around the area, then continued. "Right now, she can't deal with the notion that people - average people - could actually like her or respect her for who and what she is. In her eyes, she's an outsider, and somehow, she's better than the herd because of it. If the guys you and she run into everyday think she's a great person, then it crashes her image because all Joe Blow wants is the overmarketed corporate crap you see every day.

That's the tip of the iceberg for her, sis. Daria's got a world of issues that she's got to sort out. I can't help her with that... but you can. You may be the only one who really can."

"How's that?"

"She'll come to you when she's ready. When she does, just hang with her. Don't be different - just be you."

"Yes, o wise master," she taunted, then her face softened. "Thanks, Trent."

"Anytime."

They sat quietly for a moment.

"Trent - you really like her, don't you?"

"Yeah - but sometimes, love just isn't enough. You've gotta have other things there, too, like respect, and understanding, and just plain liking someone else as a person. It's like building a house, having a relationship. You've gotta have a good foundation to start on."

Trent looked over at his sister. "Janey - about us; about me watching out for you while Mom and Dad do their eternal road trip - did I do right by you?"

"Hmn?"

"Was - is there something else that you needed? Could I have done more?"

"Well, I'm still waiting for that mansion you're going to buy me after your first world tour with the Spiral..." She reached over and hugged Trent. "You've always been here for me - granted, I usually had to wake you up, but you've always been here. That's all I ever wanted. I don't know about anything else, and I don't care. Us, you and me, here at Casa Lane - this is my life. Give me another hug."

"Thanks, Janey. I needed to hear that."

"I was surprised you waited this long - I expected you to start worrying a couple of years ago."

They sat back, quietly, for a long moment; Jane coughed and turned to her brother.

"Trent."

"Yeah."

"You're out of cash, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"How much?""

"Spot me ten for some pizza, okay?"

*****

"See? Now really, isn't this just the thing?"

Lauriel barely paid attention to Wendy's comment as one of the handsome young men massaged her legs with warm oils, a second brushed her hair out with long, gentle strokes, and the third fed her from a platter of treats and fruit, then held up a flute of chilled champagne for her to sip from. "Everyone must be treated like royalty from time to time, you know."

Wendy sipped the wine with a smile on her face. "You just relax and let the boys pamper you. By the way - do you know the best thing about this, Lauriel? It's covered under Workman's Comp!"

The tall beauty wasn't paying any attention any more. She stretched herself as the masseuse began to run his oh-so-skilled fingers down her right ankle and began to concentrate on her foot, her cares and anxieties disappearing into the mists at the back of her mind...

"And now that you're nice and laid back, you might want to give some thought about not getting into trouble by thinking about Jake as anything but a friend," Wendy said, "It's not worth it, girl. Even if he really does manage to get out of a bad situation - do you really want to be involved with a married man? I don't think either of you wants that on your consciousness, do you?"

"I'm not fooling around with Jake, Wendy. Honestly."

"And you'd better not - you've seen what his psycho bitch is like," Wendy answered back. "But I know you. You really like him, don't you?"

Lauriel motioned for another chilled grape.

"We won't go into this now - but you do know that you're going to have to walk away, Lauriel. You're not going to get this one. Not even if the both of you want it."

She refilled Lauriel's glass, and lifted her own. "But in the meantime, if you want to play with the toys I brought along, no one's going to think twice about it."

As if in response, the handsome young man massaging Lauriel's limbs poured another warm line of oil across her shoulders, and began massaging her shoulders with an enticing intensity. "Like Andrew there," Wendy continued. "The word is... imagination."

Lauriel looked up into a pair of sparkling, attractive hazel eyes that conveyed both intelligence and whimsy, and the smile that the young man gave her made the pain and regret inside her begin to melt away. "Even if you decide just to look, but not touch, there's something to be said for a nice view," the redhead finished. "Remember - it IS okay just to look."

*****

"So, how was your day?"

Erin and Kyle were both lying back on the couch, snuggling close under a heavy, oversized quilt; it was an unseasonably cool night and Kyle was big on conserving energy. "Let me say that again: put another log on the fire, then tell me how your day was."

"Why can't you put it on?"

"One - because you're the man. Two - because I don't want to be bothered with it, and three - you'll probably want sex sometime tonight. Put two logs on, so we don't have to end up shivering later while you're trying to restart the fire."

"Tell me again why I want to spend time with you..."

"Lack of options. You know you and your right hand argue all of the time."

"You're such a wonderful girl."

Kyle tended to the blaze in the fireplace, then turned on one knee and gazed at Erin for a long period. "What?" she snapped, annoyed by his stare.

"Oh, nothing... just wondering what you'd look like stuffed under a fallen tree in a fast-moving stream..."

"You're just as funny as my Aunt Helen," the brunette huffed. "I'll make you sleep on your couch - and just because you don't have a ring on my finger doesn't mean that I can't!"

"What are you - my mate?"

"And despite all the noise we'll get for it, too."

"Really."

Kyle went back to his spot next to Erin, and scooped the woman into his arms. "Let's stop talking now..."

"Okay..."

The couple's long, smoldering embrace was interrupted by the sound of knocking at the door. "If you let go of me to answer that door, I will kill you," Erin said, a tiny smile on her face as they came up for air. "Anyone who comes to the door after nine should be turned away."

"It could be a beautiful, homeless nymphomaniac seeking shelter."

"Yes, but what would HE want with you?"

"I'm a Marine - everyone wants a real man trained by the Corps."

"Kyle... why does the Navy put Marines on ships at sea?"

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"So the sailors can have someone to dance with."

Kyle stood up, and unceremoniously dumped Erin back on the couch. "I'm going to get the door."

"That's the only thing you'll be getting tonight."

Tossing a mocking glance in Erin's direction, Kyle went to the foyer and opened the door to see Mack, dressed in the uniform of a Marine Corps colonel and flanked by two burly young men in 'M.I.B.'-style suits and sunglasses. Before he realized what he was doing, Kyle saluted - and looked at his hand as if it had just committed high treason.

"As you were, Major," Mack said, and Kyle - for the first time in a LONG time - was speechless. "I'm delivering your documents and identification for your visit to the facility tomorrow. Please read these over tonight and have some familiarity with them by tomorrow morning. Will you need transport in the morning?"

Still speechless, Kyle shook his head, and Mack nodded. "Very good. We're looking forward to your inspection tour of the facility, Major. You'll be able to tell the people in Washington that we haven't been wasting their money."

Kyle and Mack looked at each other for several moments; Mack raised a disapproving eyebrow, and Kyle - instinct taking over again - saluted him. "Good night, Major."

"What was THAT all about?"

"I have no idea whatsoever - unless we've just been dropped into the Twilight Zone," Kyle told a wide-eyed Erin as he opened the somewhat thick folder Mack had given him. "...Trans-temporal dimensional insertion system... fixed-event and duration... system of extraterrestrial-inspired terran design and construction, powered by shaped-array electromagnetic and gravitic field generators in concert with... "

"What are you reading? Is that some God-awful 'Star Trek' technobabble of some type that sounds smart but doesn't mean anything?"

Kyle all but ignored Erin as he walked past her and sat back on the couch, his face buried in the papers. "Well, I'll be damned. Some of those kids have been reading Berman and Bienstock's theories..."

"I'll guess that your answer is yes. What are you talking about?"

"Oh. Erin, this is about the seminar - they've actually done some real work! Damn, look at this - somebody actually plotted out effects of real-world energy sources that could act - Erin, look at this! They actually got someone at NASA to give them data on solar flares, sunspot activity and activity in the Van Allen radiation belts that could effect the travel path of the device and how to correct for it - the pilot/occupant actually makes the corrections in-transit... not bad..."

"Earth to geeky sci-fi kid," Erin said, taking Kyle's chin and jerking his face upward to her own. "Horny soon-to-be-naked woman wants to have impossible, backboard-snapping, Hollywood-style movie sex with you. Take your face out of the charts and let's slap bellies."

"Erin, this is material from my seminar - and that - Did you see Michael? Where the hell did he get that uniform? God, it caught me so off guard that I treated him like he was actually in the service!"

"Speak English."

"Look, Erin - it looks like these kids have actually come up with something unusual - hell, it looks amazing, actually! - And I think that I'm going to have to go over -"

"I told you back in Georgetown that I wasn't going to put up with you bringing all of that stuff up into our home, and -"

"It's just some kids, Erin - they're trying to get a good grade! They're -"

Kyle's voice went still as he unfolded a giant chart, and Erin's eyes narrowed as he went over to a table and laid the chart out. "I'll be damned," he said, his eyes dancing with boyish anticipation and delight as he scanned over the chart. "These are schematics - that crazy little rich boy actually went and built it. Holy shit, he actually built the damned thing! Oh, hell, I've GOT to see this..."

"Kyle... Kyle... KYLE!"

"Erin, I'll see you in a little while - why don't you go lie down for a bit?" Kyle said, not taking his eyes off the pages as he started comparing pages in the folder to the schematics. "I'll talk to you later... this is really fascinating..."

"I don't believe this," Erin said, holding her hands up in newly found frustration. "Oh, no. Kyleton Isaiah Armalin, you are NOT about to turn 'techno-weasel' on me now. You are going to put those stupid papers and charts down, march right into that bedroom, and we are going to have sex!"

"Yeah, right, sex, later," he echoed. "Could you make a pot of coffee before you lay down, Erin? I'm a little busy, and I'll need it to stay awake..."

"Excuse me? You're not even a scientist!"

"Bachelor of Science in Engineering at 'Canoe U' - 3.87 GPA. Sixth in my class. Got sick my junior year, screwed up during midterms, and never pulled it back up. Just went into the headshrinking for the money, the nice suits and the sexy, troubled women with stock options. Also got my family off my back about going into the Corps - they figure that I'll see the light soon, move to L.A. or the Hamptons to shrink the beautiful, loaded people, start writing books and making beaucoup dineros. Silly relatives... they don't let psychiatrists have guns that knock helicopters down a full kilometer away..."

"I don't believe this!" Erin snapped. "Eight to eighty, blind, crippled or crazy - you men are all alike! Boys and their toys - no matter how old they get, boys just have to have their toys to play with!"

Erin stormed out of the room, and Kyle barely lifted his head from a second set of schematics. "Honey, what about that coffee?"

"I think you know what you can do with your coffee!"

*****

"I'm not going to yell at you, Daria. Just listen."

Daria, setting her boots at the end of her bed, froze in her footsteps as the door to her room closed as if by itself and her mother's voice came from behind. "Turn around, young lady."

Helen watched as her oldest child slowly turned to face her. "It's two in the morning. I should ground you on general principle - but we aren't going to have to do that."

"You've been waiting in my room for me like somebody off of 'The Sopranos'? I hope you know that if you searched my room, there's nothing -"

"Stop talking, Daria."

Daria immediately went quiet; Helen spoke in her death-counsel voice, the voice she used in court to break her opposition. "You won't talk to me or your father about your problems. Fine. You don't want to be a normal part of the community. Your loss."

Helen took a step forward. "But when you start neglecting your schoolwork and jeopardizing your future - I draw the line. Tomorrow night, at eight o'clock, we will have family court. You are going to explain your actions, and then you will find a way to make up for them."

The taller women walked in a full circle about her child. "I think that your father and I have been incredibly lenient and evenhanded in the hands-off policy we had adopted towards your schooling. We've allowed you free rein to follow your own desires and your own choices towards your future career, and asked for practically nothing in return. You've never had to spend a semester in an extracurricular activity - you really slid out of the yearbook, and we really should have put our foot down there. Most children would have at least tried to attempt something beyond their daily schoolwork! Your friend Jane tried out for cheerleading and actually made the track team, and despite what people may say about the Fashion Club, at least Quinn's involved in something, visibly dedicated to it and it's something that she can actually justify putting on a college application!"

Daria looked away from her mother.

"But what have you done? You could be an academic superstar. You could have ensured that people know just what an incredible woman you're going to become by showing them your potentials now and living up to them! You could have gone to the best school in the state - in the COUNTRY! - but no, not you. After all, why go to a world-renowned preparatory school that would certainly prepare me to go to the best colleges out there? You don't need that - not when you could amble aimlessly around the city, leaving a trail of pizza crusts, sarcastic remarks and hurt feelings wherever you go, that is. You haven't done much, Daria, not much at all. Starting tomorrow night - all of that is going to change."

"I get good grades."

"I wonder if that'll be true after your special seminar is over," Helen said. "It's more than just grades, Daria."

"It's also getting involved, so you can sell out to the highest bidder?"

"Very funny, coming from you - considering that you've never shown anyone that you've believed in anything strongly enough for persons to see that you'd do anything other than sell out at first chance," Helen verbally speared, not caring about the look of pain on Daria's face. "Oh, yes - sometime soon, we'll be going over to the Ruttheimer estate. I've just agreed to become the personal attorney for the Ruttheimer family, and they've invited us to dinner. You'll be going as well - and you will leave your sarcasm and your smug attitude at home. Give us any trouble or one untoward remark while we're there - and I'll ground you for the next year so completely that if you even walk by a 9-volt battery, the shock it gives off will kill you on the spot."

Helen opened the door and looked back at Daria, who looked at her mother with coldly narrowed eyes as she saw what her mother was holding. The Doc Martens - the boots that were as much a part of Daria's identity as her glasses - were in her mother's hands.

"Sleep well, Daria. Tomorrow is going to be the first day of the rest of your life."

*****

"Did that make you feel better, Helen?"

"What are you talking about, Jake?"

"Taking Daria's boots. What's that supposed to say?"

"It says that we - BOTH of us - are tired of the way she mopes around everywhere!" Helen said, closing the door to their bedroom with more force than she intended. "One minute she's an acid-mouthed harpy, practicing her character assassination skills as though she's trying for an Olympic medal in the sport, and the next - she's got that worn little hangdog expression on her face: 'Oh, the world's always against me - oh, poor, poor little me'! Well, I'm SICK of it!"

"Being a kid's tough -"

"And then she's been cutting classes and acting like a total juvenile delinquent - do you know that she actually talked back to the Principal when she caught Daria sleeping in the library when she should have been in that special seminar? Jake, I will not have it! She is not going to get this far and just throw her entire life away because someone insulted her in front of other people and she can't deal with it! She is NOT going to embarrass us by pissing away her chance to BE SOMEBODY and ending up a welfare queen with a genius IQ! Do you understand what I'm saying! I will not have it!"

"Aren't you taking all of this a little too seriously, Helen? Angela Li is a little crazed about having perfect students; maybe she's exaggerating a bit -"

"Did YOU take the phone call from her, Jake? NO? Then you don't know what you're talking about, because I KNOW what the woman said about Daria when I talked to her! Daria's always making herself into a loner - she always has! She can't act like other kids, or play, or date, or even talk on the phone like other normal teenagers! Oh, no - Daria JUST HAS TO SHOW that she's not like all of the others! She's not an ugly girl, and she's not stupid, but JUST ONCE, WHY CAN'T SHE DO SOMETHING NORMAL?"

"Helen. Daria's not like other children. We knew this earlier-"

"I don't care!" Helen spewed back. "Do you have any idea how much I would pay to have her once - just once - mention at the dinner table or in passing conversation that she thinks that some boy looks nice, or caught her attention with something he was doing, or just acknowledges the fact that boys even interest her! Hell, I'd actually be happy even if she said that GIRLS interest her - but she just carries herself around like she's a psychic eunuch that doesn't have any interest in anything involving sex, let alone love! Where the hell did we go wrong with Daria, Jake? What the hell did we do wrong?"

She tossed the Doc Martens into a corner. "And those boots are a constant reminder that she's just GOT to be different than everyone else! For God's sake, doesn't she KNOW that if you're trying to be cool, you aren't! Just wearing those boots means that she's just being a little hypocrite!"

"Honey - maybe she wears them because they're comfortable."

"Oh, REALLY? And how would YOU know anything about it?"

"I actually took the time to ask her once."

Jake stepped out of the bed, tucked his pillows under his arm, and took a blanket off the bed. "I really don't need this - no. I'm not going to listen to any more of this tonight."

"And just where are you going?" Helen snapped, but some of the fire had gong out of her tone as she watched him reach down and pick up the boots. "What are you doing with those?"

"Helen, I'm taking our daughter's boots back to her - and then, I'm going to sleep on the couch."

"But I said - You are NOT going to take those back -"

"Leave her boots alone. That's what I said. In fact - just leave Daria alone, period. When she wants to come to us - she will. She'll do it in her own time."

Helen stood dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open, as Jake gave her a surprisingly stern look and closed the door behind him as he left.

"Well. We'll see about that."

*****

"Daria, are you still awake?"

"Come on in, Dad."

Jake opened the door and set the Doc Martens down just inside the room. "I brought you a gift, Kiddo!"

"Thanks, Dad."

Jake looked at the expression on his firstborn's face, and his tone changed. "Daria, I understand that you're having troubles at school."

"Dad, please. I don't-"

"No - hear me out," Jake said. "I know that we're not a family that's all hugs and kisses and 'touchy-feely' and all that. I don't know why we're not like that, or like any of all of the stereotypes of what 'a normal family' is supposed to be like. I only know one thing: that all of that is crap, because we ARE a family - and even though I don't say it enough and you probably don't like hearing it... I will be there for you, Daria, whenever you need me."

Daria looked down as Jake continued. "I don't know what's happening at your school yet. I'd like to think that you'd tell me if something's wrong, but I know that you'll be able to handle whatever's thrown in your way. There's something else you have to know, Daria - and this is something I should have said to you a long time ago. Don't worry about doing or not doing anything, or of trying to avoid what you've already done, because of what people think about you - especially your mother and me. I don't ever want you to think that you've disappointed us, or made us look bad, or dishonored us because of the choices you make, the things you do or the way you want your life to go."

Jake took a breath. "You've never disappointed me, Daria. There were times when you've done things and I wish you had chosen another way, but you've always been honest with yourself. If you can be honest with your decisions and live with them, then I'll always be happy for you and I'll always love you. Don't ever doubt that about me, Kiddo. No matter what choices you make, no matter what you do or what happens because of it, you need to know that."

Daria sat, unmoving and silent, as her father leaned against the doorway.

"You know, Daria - most people want to live the so-called 'American Dream'. For them, that usually means having a nice home, a couple of cars, almost all of the bills paid off, digital cable or a satellite dish, and a nice family vacation every other year. For the past seventeen years, I've been living the American Dream because each and every single time that I look at you, I see a part of me. In you, I see the best part of me - and having a daughter like you means that I succeeded. To me, that's worth more to me than anything I could wish for or could buy. Good night, Daria. "

For a long time after Jake closed the door and his steps faded down the hallway, silent tears ran down Daria's face to dampen her nightshirt and sheets...

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