a Dariarotica fic
by Mr. Bigglesworth
"You WHAT?!" cried Monique. She and Trent broke up about twice a month, had been for nearly as long as they'd been going out, but this was a new twist, to put it mildly.
"I said I've found somebody new, Monique," replied Trent levelly. "It really is over this time."
For a moment Monique just sat there, stunned, then she slapped Trent across the face, once, hard. Without a word she got out of the Tank, slammed the door, and stormed off into the night.
Trent didn't respond at first; he hadn't really been expecting such a strong reaction. Maybe it was that he hadn't followed their usual 'breakup script', but he wasn't going to lie to Monique -- things really had changed. Just letting her walk off into the night didn't seem right, though. He started the van and slowly drove off in the direction she'd left in, drew up even with her after less than half a block.
"Go to hell, Trent!" said Monique before Trent could offer her a ride.
"It's a long way back to town," said Trent unflappably. "I can't let you walk it, especially after..." maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to break up with Monique at the quarry, thought Trent, given that he was serious this time. He wasn't sure. Whatever. He stopped, and as he did Monique stopped walking, opened the door and got in.
They drove back to town in silence. She didn't say a word even when they pulled up at the apartment complex where Monique lived and she got out.
Trent thought hard about what had happened that night. He and Monique probably wouldn't be getting back together, he thought, but it was for the best. Even though he knew, on some level, that his new involvement couldn't last, it was time to at least start to move on. Janey had been right -- he and Monique just weren't right for each other. Too bad Daria wasn't a few years older, he thought whimsically. And that she seems to actually be headed somewhere in life, he reflected a little more grimly.
But now wasn't the time to dwell on such things, he decided as he parked the Tank in front of Casa Lane. For now at least, there was someone new in his life and he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. He was going to be seeing her tomorrow, in fact...
"Yo, Trent, off to rehearsal?" asked Jane, looking up from the easel she had set up in the living room.
"Umm, yeah," agreed Trent, glancing down at the guitar case he was carrying. "The Spiral's got a big gig coming up, and we'll be practicing all day today."
"Knock 'em dead," said Jane a little distractedly. The colors in this painting weren't quite right, and for once she couldn't quite put her finger on what was the matter. She'd brought the canvas out here hoping a change of lighting would help, but so far no luck...
Trent closed the door behind him on his way out. A couple of minutes later the Trentmobile pulled out of the driveway.
Jane was still engrossed a little while later when someone knocked on the door. No way her mom would hear that from her pottery bunker, she thought, dad was...well, she wasn't sure just now exactly, and with Trent away at practice...with a sigh, Jane wiped off her brush and headed for the door.
It was Max. "I'm here to pick up the Tank," he said. "You wouldn't know where the keys are, would you?"
"Nope," admitted Jane, "though I guess I can help you look. Too bad you weren't here a few minutes ago, you and Trent could've carpooled to rehearsal."
"Aww, we've got rehearsal today? I thought it wasn't till tonight!"
This brought a puzzled frown from Jane. While Trent often forgot when band practice was, most of the other members of Mystic Spiral were somewhat better about that -- hence the fact that the Spiral still existed.
After a few minutes of looking, they found the keys to the Tank in the kitchen and Max left. Jane returned to her painting, but what she'd heard during his brief visit kept nagging at the back of her mind...what was Trent up to, anyway?
"You know, maybe we should come up with some new lyrics," suggested Trent.
"Ballocks!" replied Guy Fawkes' Day.
"Like what?" asked Christmas. "And why?"
"Well, you know, I'm sure being a teen holiday does suck," said Trent, "but I'm not exactly a holiday. Or a teen."
"Oh, so we're supposed to change to suit you now are we?" asked Guy Fawkes' Day. "Tosser!"
And with that he and Christmas took off in a huff, leaving Trent and Halloween alone there in the basement room at Holiday Island High School where the band had been practicing.
Which might not be a bad thing, thought Trent.
"Well, I guess we might as well start breaking things down," said Halloween. "I don't see getting much more out of those two today."
Trent shrugged. "Guess so. Here, let me help you with that drum kit."
Both bending over at the same time to the same task, the two of them conked heads, laughed, looked up and made eye contact...
And then they were on each other. Kissing hungrily, over and over. The first time this had happened Trent had worried about the black lipstick Halloween wore smearing, but that hadn't happened. He wasn't even really sure it was lipstick, anymore...
Halloween ran her black-gloved hands up the inside of Trent's shirt, began stroking his chest. Trent, for his part, began fumbling around behind the crucifix Halloween wore, trying in vain to seem cool while attempting to figure out the mystery of how her bodice was fastened.
She laughed, and suddenly yanked upwards on Trent's shirt, pulling it over his head and off. She then saw to getting her own top open.
Trent couldn't have even seen her breasts as they were freed from the fabric -- his hands were on them too quickly. Grabby, thought Halloween, but for some reason she didn't mind. She purred in the back of her throat as Trent pressed and rolled and squeezed. They kissed some more, and then Halloween gasped as Trent dropped his kisses to where his hands had been busy. A nipple responded as he pulled it into his mouth, worked his tongue back and forth across it, lightly raked his teeth...
Suddenly, Halloween cupped her hands on the top of Trent's head and pushed him downwards, onto his knees. He noticed that she was wearing a somewhat looser, longer skirt than he'd seen her in before, and began to suspect what she had in mind...
Trent ducked his head and burrowed under the hem of Halloween's skirt. Not counting her high heeled thighboots, she had nothing on underneath, he soon discovered.
Halloween chuckled softly to herself as Trent attempted to find his way, then as he succeeded she caught her breath sharply, paused, caught it again as he found a particularly sensitive spot, and closed her eyes and rested her hands on top of the bulge made in the front of her skirt by Trent's head as her breathing deepened.
This didn't go on for long, however -- despite the deliciousness of what Trent was doing, the way they were situated was all wrong to keep it up for any real length of time. Halloween briefly considered hooking one of her legs over one of Trent's shoulders to...facilitate things, but even as the idea occurred to her she pictured herself losing her balance and falling over, and besides there were...other things she wanted to get to. Before Trent got a crick in his neck.
Halloween took a step back from Trent, breaking the contact, and after a brief struggle with the folds of fabric he managed to extract himself from beneath her skirt. Grasping him under the arms she pulled him to his feet, they kissed again briefly, and then it was her turn to drop to her knees.
Trent helped Halloween -- a little anyway -- getting his pants undone, then with an urgency neither of them fully understood they were pushing them down, over his hips, down his legs, then the frustrating realization that his shoes were still on and having to cope with getting the resulting pileup of clothing off...then Halloween caressed him -- about half-erect already -- for a moment then slowly took him into her mouth.
Trent tilted his head back, closed his eyes and groaned. Halloween spat him out and said, a little crossly, "hey! a little eye contact here, please!"
Opening his eyes, Trent looked down at Halloween as she resumed what she'd been doing and got lost in the sensation ...and in those beautiful dark eyes...
This didn't continue for very long : soon Trent was fully hard, and neither of them wanted to wait any longer. Halloween stood up, placed her hands on Trent's chest, and pushed him back...a step...another step...and then they were standing on one of the gym mats that were stored down here, that'd conveniently fallen over from where it'd been stacked against the wall. She pushed him gently over backwards, following him down as he settled onto his back on the mat so that she ended up straddling him. With a single smooth motion Halloween swept her skirt up and aside then, positioning Trent with one hand, settled down onto him, enveloping him.
Trent groaned again at the sensation. Halloween's breath hissed in through clenched teeth. For a long moment they were still, then slowly she began to roll her hips.
They were both silent at first, just savoring the way it felt, then she began to move faster and soon they both were vocalizing softly: groans, panting, soft moans, less describable sounds.
Halloween changed her motions to a more straightforward, up-and-down ride as one gloved hand disappeared beneath the folds of her skirt...and began to move busily. She closed her eyes, and the pink tip of her tongue protruded from between blackened lips as a look of intense concentration came over her face.
She looks almost like she's got a trig problem she can't quite solve, Trent couldn't help thinking as he looked up at her.
Soon Halloween began to look as if she were getting closer to a solution to whatever problem she was working on, though it got harder to tell exactly what the look on her face was as she leaned back...then farther back...her body tensed, began to shiver as her breathing quickened into sharp panting gasps, then suddenly she bucked forwards, convulsed and -- the part Trent wasn't sure he'd ever get used to -- SCREAMED. No normal human scream this, either, but a long drawn-out high pitched unearthly wailing shriek that echoed off the walls and seemed like it ought to bring half the population of Holiday High running. It was unlike anything he'd ever heard from Monique.
But not, Trent realized, unlike anything he'd ever heard before. There'd been something familiar about this scream, even the first time he'd heard it from Halloween...this time he found himself struck by the realization that it was almost identical to one of the screams from a "haunted house" sound effects album he'd heard as a kid.
Trent managed not to laugh at this sudden recognition, but it was a close thing.
As Halloween's climax tapered off she sank forwards, so that she was lying atop Trent, then was still for a moment before she started moving again, grinding herself against him...faster...
With almost no warning, just a quick flurry of gasps Trent almost didn't recognize the significance of, Halloween reached orgasm again. There was no time to avoid the scream -- it happened right in his ear.
"Whoa," said Trent at this startlingly fast repeat performance, "so much for that only happening once a year."
For a moment Halloween was still and silent as what Trent had said sank in, then she emitted a pained-sounding groan and smacked him across the chest. Placing the palms of both black-gloved hands on Trent's chest she then pushed herself upright so she was once again kneeling straddling him. She then bore down, clenching herself around him, and began riding him hard, moving rapidly straight up-and-down on him.
Trent threw his head to the side and moaned, his fingernails digging into the mat at first, then his hands began to wander as if he weren't sure what to do with them. Halloween solved this problem by taking his hands in hers, palm to palm, interlacing her fingers with his, then leaning forward and pushing downward, pinning his hands to the mat as her riding reached a furious pace. Wet slapping sounds emanated from beneath her skirt.
Finally, Trent threw his head back and his body arched beneath her. "OH, YEAH!" he yelled.
And then Halloween's movements slowed, stilled, and for awhile they just lay there, at first she atop him, then rolling off so they lay side by side. They kissed, ran their hands over each others' bodies, then finally Trent spoke.
"Hey," he said, "how is it that when we do this I always end up naked, while you're almost fully clothed?"
Halloween propped herself up on one elbow, rested the side of her head on her hand, and smirked at Trent.
"I don't know," she said, "I guess it's one of those mysteries about the holidays that's not meant to be known."
This brought on one of Trent's laugh-cough fits Halloween had been finding so endearing lately. Then suddenly it occurred to her what their situation was...that there was really nothing preventing their bandmates from coming back and finding them like this. Hurriedly she closed and secured her bodice.
"Yeah," said Trent, apparently thinking along the same lines. "I guess I'd better find my clothes and get them back on. I wonder if the Good Times Chinese Restaurant's closed yet. My car might kind of stick out in an empty parking lot..."
As Trent busied himself with getting his clothes back on, Halloween pressed a hand to her forehead and frowned. Why did they take such chances? Why was the whole thing so intense, and so sudden? She just couldn't escape the nagging feeling that something wasn't right here...
Then Trent was dressed again and was helping her to her feet and they were kissing and holding each other once more before he had to go and neither of them felt like they could possibly wait until it was time to get together again...
In an otherwise empty classroom a few floors up, Cupid frowned as he inspected his taser. It would need recharging soon, he was sure of that -- it took more energy to create and maintain the effect on holidays than on mortals.
Using the taser on Halloween had been a major breach of the rules, but after The Holidays' star harpsichordist had thrown a hissy fit and walked out on the band, the others were ready to leave Holiday Island again, and there was no way he was letting that happen.
So he'd managed to lure Halloween and that guy who'd played guitar, briefly, for The Holidays into the same place and...well...
Taser or not, Cupid was sure the situation wouldn't last. Sooner or later, he figured he'd have to rope that brainy chick, Daria, into helping them again. Not that he was too worried about making that happen -- he already had a plan. It involved that kid sister of Daria's and Guy Fawkes' Day.
AND NOW THE DISCLAIMERS: Daria and all associated characters are the property of MTV/Viacom. I wrote this for fun, mine and hopefully at least some of yours, and am not making a cent off it. etc. etc.