Prose adaptation by Dark_One Shadowphyre

Original story idea by WWMyra

It was a fairly typical Friday afternoon at Casa de Lane. Squad cars driving by, random shootings across the street, a bomb threat at the back door... Okay, not really.

Inside the house, Jane Lane, artiste extraordinaire, sat in her room, gazing impassively at the cards in her hand. Across from her, her best friend, Daria Morgendorffer, also looked at her cards. The two of them had been playing poker, using Jane's cousin's old tarot cards when a futile search had turned up no regular playing cards. Silence stretched between the two, each one waiting for the other.

"So," Jane said at last, breaking the silence. "Do you think Steven Wright's joke will come true?" As she spoke, Jane spread her hand out on the floor, showing that she had, indeed, gotten a Full House. Daria raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know," she mused aloud, looking thoughtful. "Do we get to pick the four people?" Jane shrugged. She hoped Brittany and Kevin would bite the dust, or at the very least, Upchuck, and maybe Evan, that jerk from the track team. But then again, who was she to say who lived?

About that time, Jane's brother, Trent Lane, showed up, walking into the room - without knocking, as usual.

"Janey," he began, then noticed his sister wasn't alone. "Hey, Daria," he added quickly. Daria turned a faint shade of red, but managed a coherent "Hey," in return. The two stared at each other for a moment until Jane broke the tension.

"What's up, oh narcoleptic one?" she asked, picking up her hand and the rest of the cards. Inwardly, she sighed. She knew Trent and Daria loved each other, and this constant dodging around was a bit tiresome. Her question did serve to break Trent out of his trance and he turned toward her.

"Mystik Spiral is having a party at Max's tonight," he informed them. "You guys wanna come?" Jane smirked slightly. She was willing to bet that last part had been directed mostly at Daria.

"Sure," she replied easily, answering for both herself and her best friend. "You gonna drive us?" The question was unnecessary. She knew he would.

"Yeah," Trent said, confirming her assumption. "Cool. I'm leaving for Max's around eight." Turning toward the heretofore silent young woman, he added, a little hesitantly, "Is that cool with you, Daria?"

"Uh, sure," she replied, a little startled. She hadn't expected him to ask, and was both flattered and flustered that he had. Trent, for his part, felt like someone had just handed him a 1967 Gibson SG. Mint condition. He controlled his reaction carefully and was about to walk out of the room when he remembered. "Oh, Janey, I need--"

"Yeah, yeah, gas money, I know," his sister replied, rolling her eyes skyward. When had her brother not needed to bum money off of her? "God, Trent, get a job like everyone else!" she exclaimed, more than a little exasperated. Trent grinned at her.

"Why?" he asked impudently, pointing out, "You give me gas money when I'm broke." He didn't mention that he was almost always broke, but Daria picked up on that thought nonetheless. So did Jane, for that matter, and she responded by throwing a pillow at her older sibling.

"Get out," she said good-naturedly, "before I change my mind and close the Bank of Jane." Trent took the not-so-subtle hint and departed, chuckling. Jane turned back to Daria with a "brothers: what can you do?" look, only to find her best friend still staring at the door Trent had left through. Jane shook her head, smiling slightly. Daria really had it bad.

The party at Max Tyler's old house was well underway. Most of the guests had hit the keg already, although there were some regular, non-alcoholic drinks. There was just the very faint haze in the main room that suggested someone had lit up somewhere in the house, but Mystik Spiral had been expecting that kind of thing to happen when they'd planned this fling. It wasn't something they could stop as long as no one complained, and at least it was just "clean" cigarette smoke, and not a joint or something worse.

Over by the refreshment table was where Daria and Jane had positioned themselves to listen to the band. Daria had swapped her green jacket for one of Jane's leather ones. They were a little warmer, and she figured it would make her look less out-of-place. As it turned out, she was right. The band was, of course, Mystik Spiral, and they were doing a run-through of their main song, Icebox Woman.

For the thousandth time, Daria thought wryly and glanced at Jane. "You know," she remarked dryly, "if they play this damned song one more time, I'm going to be able to get up there and play it myself!"

"And you don't even play the guitar," Jane observed with a wry smirk. The smirk changed to a wince as a particularly jagged and broken chord screeched from the speakers. Rhythm guitarist Jesse Moreno was more than likely responsible for that one. "If you call that playing," she amended as both she and Daria tried to clear their eardrums.

Mercifully, the song ended then. Announcing that the band was taking a break, Trent left Max to pop in a CD as he headed over to his sister and her best friend. Jesse just behind him, wanting to get in a little time with Jane if he could.

"Hey, Daria," Trent said as they approached the girls. "Having fun?" Daria glanced around the room, her expression one of mild amusement, and just a touch of disdain.

"Yeah, there are some interesting drunks here," she commented wryly, glancing at one corner in particular where some guy was hitting on what Daria was hoping was female, but kind of doubted it. Interestingly enough, the whichever-it-is was responding favorably to the guy's attentions.

Trent followed her gaze and couldn't help but laugh. He almost felt sorry for the poor guy, who was straight, and didn't realize he was coming on to another guy. But that the other guy was responding?! Daria had been right when she'd cracked about "interesting drunks!" Trent got a lung-full of the smoke that was hovering and his laugh turned into a cough.

"Good one, Daria," he remarked when he'd managed to get it calmed down. Daria turned a little pink around the edges, but managed to control it quickly. Thankfully, or maybe not, Jane decided to fill in with her own little conquest.

"You Tarzan," she said to Jesse - a slight teasing about his long hair and shirt-less state. "Me Jane. Let's dance." She pulled a quite willing Jesse onto the dance floor where the two of them proceeded to cut the figurative rug while Daria and Trent looked on. Daria shook her head.

"She Jane, me nauseous," she commented, averting her eyes as her best friend got into a particularly intimate dance move with the young rhythm guitarist. Trent laughed. He completely understood, having unwillingly witnessed other such scenes prior to this.

"Janey's not exactly shy, is she?" he remarked, glancing at the spectacle. Daria shook her head.

"She's not what you'd call a wallflower, no," she replied with heavy irony. Trent would have chuckled had the scene on the dance floor not distracted him. He, too, averted his eyes. He couldn't help feeling just a little bit... well... jealous.

As a distraction, he picked up two large cups of punch and passed one to Daria. She looked at the cup and its contents before taking a cautious sip. It didn't taste like anything more than just plain fruit punch. Shrugging slightly, she kept drinking.

It was early morning, about seven or so, when Daria finally came to. She opened her eyes slowly onto the blurred sight of a world without her glasses. Wincing at a slight pain of the morning light, she put a hand to her forehead.

God, I feel like hell, she thought, shutting her eyes again. Man, what was in that punch Trent gave...me...? Her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright in bed.

She immediately regretted moving so fast when her already blurred vision swam. She fought to breathe deeply, her face contorted with pain as she held onto her head. It felt as if it might fall off if she dared let go. Gradually, the pain receded, and Daria let her hands fall to her sides.

Oh, my God, she thought dizzily, glancing with half-unseeing eyes around the unfamiliar room she'd awakened in. I remember now. Dancing with Trent, drinking with Trent, kissing Trent.... She paled and gulped. Oh, God, I didn't, please tell me I didn't....

Slowly, deliberately, she turned her head and looked at the space beside her on the bed. There, stretched out beside her, was undoubtedly the wiry form of one Trent Lane, bare-chested, and sleeping peacefully.

An expression of horrified shock slid over Daria's face. She turned her eyes down on herself and recognized the olive-green blur that clothed her was Trent's tee shirt. She felt the panic rising in her chest, but fought it down. First step: find her glasses. She managed to locate them by using a touch-feel method on the night table she knew was next to the bed. Step two: get dressed.

Daria climbed carefully out of bed and began to search around the room for her clothes. The search continued for a few more minutes, becoming somewhat frantic as it failed to turn up the burnt-orange shirt and black pleated skirt.

"Damnit, what did he do with my clothes, eat them?!" she whispered fiercely to herself. "Fine, I'll wear something of his."

She crept over to the dresser and dug through it until she came up with a clean pair of boxers. Star Wars boxers. Well, this wasn't the time to be picky.... She put them on, the crept over to the door and quietly opened it, slipping silently out into the hallway.

Jane sat on her bed, still in pajamas, as she vegged out on Saturday morning cartoons. The party last night had been a blast, and Jane had even been rewarded with the sight of Trent and Daria dancing together! Daria had disappeared some time later, and when she'd looked, Jane had discovered that Trent had also evaporated. Lucky for her, Jesse was willing to drive her home, but she was still a little concerned about her best friend.

The door opened and said best friend ducked in, closing the door quickly behind her and looking very upset. That in itself was somewhat of a shock, but that Daria was here at all... Jane blinked in surprise.

"Daria?!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" Suddenly, the rumpled and very familiar olive-green tee shirt plus boxers registered and she added incredulously, "And in Trent's clothes?!"

"You want to know why I'm wearing Trent's clothes?!" Daria wailed, wringing her hands. "Because I just woke up in Trent's bed!" She began pacing around the room distractedly while Jane just gaped at her. This kind of emotional display was unusual in the extreme for Daria! The content of her friend's words hit her then, and Jane thought she was going to faint from shock.

"You mean, you and Trent had... had... SEX?!" she choked out, her eyes going very, very wide.

"No, we baked cookies all night, yes damnit!" Daria whirled around, her eyes filled with her inner turmoil as she continued talking. "I got totally dillusional and had sex with the guy of my dreams, and I don't even know if he's going to remember!" She suddenly stopped pacing and flopped onto the floor, her head hanging.

"This is not the way I envisioned my first time," she said quietly, her voice a bit muffled. "An alcohol induced episode." Actually, there hadn't been any alcohol on her part, as far as she knew. She wasn't sure about that punch, but that had been the only thing she'd drunk, so....

"Did you at least enjoy it?" Jane asked, cutting through her friend's thoughts. The question triggered something and a wave of memories from the night before washed over Daria. She blushed fervently, but smiled her slight Mona Lisa smile.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Yeah, I did." Jane grinned at her friend.

"See? There's an upside. At least it was good sex," she remarked, then amended, "If not entirely smart sex." Daria's smile slipped and put her head in her hands.

"God, Jane, what am I going to do?" she groaned in a muffled voice. Jane bit her lower lip as she looked at her friend.

"If he doesn't remember...?" she asked softly. "Or if he does?"

"Both."

Trent was still sleeping when Daria peeked back into the room she'd vacated earlier. She slipped back into the room and closed the door behind her before making her way to the bed. She sat down on the edge of the bed next to him with a small sigh and watched him sleep, half envying his blissful oblivion of the moment, half dreading when he would wake up and the oblivion would be out the window.

A few more moments past before Trent stirred slightly, his only sign of waking. His eyes opened and he looked up into the face of the woman of his dreams. Dreams? Was he still dreaming? Could it be...?

"Daria?" he murmured, confused, but still fogged with sleep. The vision before him nodded slightly.

"Yeah, Trent, it's me," she said softly. It certainly sounded like Daria....

"Cool," Trent replied. The dream he'd had was hovering at the edge of his consciousness, and he got the funny feeling that it was important. What...was it...?

"Trent, I know you're not entirely awake yet, but...." Daria swallowed, but continued. She had to ask this. "Do you remember last night?" she asked softly. "Do you remember us last night?" Trent gazed at her, confusion etched across his features. Last night? Wha--

Suddenly, the thing that had been hovering on the edge of his mind rushed up into the front of his mind and the events of last night came flying back to him. His eyes got very wide. He was awake, all right. Daria was sitting right there, wearing his tee shirt.... Not a dream... not a dream.... He sat up slowly, his expression changing from surprised shock to wary unease. Daria took a deep breath.

"Yep, you remember," she said, a little uneasily. More to herself than to him, she added, "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"I don't know what to say," Trent said quietly. It was stretching the truth a bit. He could think of quite a few things to say, but under the circumstances, those things didn't seem altogether appropriate.

"Join the club," Daria muttered. "I've never done this before." More softly, she added, "What do we do now? Cause I... I don't think I can ignore this." I wouldn't want to, she thought sadly.

Trent gazed at this girl - no, woman - that he loved so much. For the first time in the few years he'd known her, he saw raw vulnerability in her face. He'd put her in this position, taking away from her - not her innocence, surely - but most definitely her virginity. Trent had had dreams about doing this with her - someday. He hadn't expected "someday" to come so soon. This wasn't how he'd wanted her first experience to be. I've lost her for good this time, he thought sadly.

Slowly, he reached out to her and enveloped her in his arms, making sure to give her plenty of time to pull away - he wouldn't blame her if she did. Daria surprised him, and herself, however, when instead of pulling away, she melted into his embrace. They held each other, drawing small comfort from the feel of their arms around each other. Trent sighed sadly, stroking her hair very gently.

"I'm sorry, Daria," he whispered, holding her close. "I never meant to take advantage of you like that." Daria closed her eyes briefly. She couldn't let him take all the blame for this one.

"I was there, too, Trent," she reminded him, her voice very low. "It's just as much my fault as it is yours." Trent shook his head.

"No, it isn't," he said seriously, looking down at her. "You were a virgin. I wasn't. Plus, if you remember, I started it, not you." She shook her head.

"I didn't stop you, Trent," she replied. She could have stopped him, if she'd wanted to. But she hadn't. Of course she hadn't. She wouldn't have.

"You were drunk," he began. "You didn't know what you were doing." Daria blushed. That was the thing....

"Yes, I did," she replied softly. She took a deep breath and continued in a firmer tone. "I wasn't drunk, Trent. The only thing I was high on was sugar. I took advantage of you. I knew exactly what I was doing last night. I knew you were drunk and I didn't care. I just wanted to be yours," Daria faltered, "even if it was just for one night." She hesitated, then continued more quietly, "Please don't hate me. I didn't set out to manipulate you like that." Slowly, Trent pulled away a bit and looked down at her, half in shock.

"You...you weren't drunk either?" he asked hoarsely. Daria shook her head.

"No, I...." she began, but trailed off as what he'd said sank in. "Either?" she repeated. "Wait a second. You mean we both decided to take advantage of each other and do... what we really wanted?" Trent nodded hesitantly. Emboldened, Daria continued, "You mean... last night, when you said you loved me.... You were completely sober?"

"Yeah," Trent said and started to grin. A moment passed while the two of them digested this new information. "Is it just me, or are you starting to regret this less and less?" he asked her. Daria stared at the man she loved for a long moment.

"Did we just go about this completely ass backwards.... And end up a couple anyway?" she asked him, wanting to be sure. Trent chuckled a bit.

"Yeah, I think we did," he replied. After a moment, he added seriously, "So...are you still sorry you slept with me last night?"

"I'm sorry for the way it happened," Daria said seriously, "but not that it happened. Let's make next time a much better memory, okay?" Trent caught that statement and grinned at her.

"Next time?" he repeated with specific emphasis. Daria smiled back at her lover, looking a little like a cat who'd just gotten the cream.

"Yeah," she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Next time."