Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

A continuation of my PPMB entries for the 9-14-04 and The Day After challenges. This includes a crossover with Guy Payne's story, Tallil for the SFMB January 1, 2005 challenge.

Richard Lobinske

First Leave

1 January, 2005

Andrea Hecuba’s feet crunched through the crusted snow along the sidewalk in front of Lawndale High School. “Almost five years,” she said as she remembered what she thought, at the time, was the worst years of her life. “Boy was I mistaken.”

“It’s a cold day to be out next to the school, miss,” the strongly projecting voice of her old history teacher said.

She turned and said, “Mr. Demartino.”

He scrutinized her for a moment before recognition dawned. “Ms. Hecuba. It has been a few years.”

Andrea briefly looked down at herself. It wasn’t surprising that Demartino hadn’t recognized her readily. The plump, goth chick that had attended high school was long gone. The Egyptian eye makeup was also a thing of the past, and her stout jeans and flight jacket showed the trim, attractive figure of someone who had to keep in good physical condition.

“Almost five.”

“That flight jacket shows signs of real use. Warrant Officer?”

“That’s right. I’ve been in Iraq since the invasion. This is my first leave.”

“A most unpleasant business. If I may inquire, what do you do?”

“I’m a chopper pilot, flying medivac.”

Demartino’s eyes strangely softened. “A most commendable and honorable mission.”

“Um…thanks. I can say I’ve never lost a patient.”

He placed one hand on her shoulder. “Many of us owe our lives to people like you. A record like that is something you can be proud of.”

“I’d rather I not have had to make the record.”

“Spoken like a real veteran.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go back.”

“You have my sympathy. At least we only had to spend a year in ‘Nam. It’s starting to sound like a lot of you will be in for the duration.”

“I need to ask, though I’m afraid I already know the answer. Do the nightmares ever go away?”

“They’ll hide, but a part will always be with you.”

“Except for once, I’ve never been able to look at my passengers. I can’t stand to see the blood.”

“Actually, a rational action. There’s a lot I wish I hadn’t seen.”

Both looked silently at the school for a while. Andrea said, “It’s been good to see you, but I need to get going, there’s still a few places I want to see while I’m home.”

“Get going, it has been my pleasure.”

Andrea walked to Pizza Prince for a slice or two of their tasty, greasy offerings. She picked up a pair of slices and noticed only one booth occupied in the restaurant, by a young woman with red-brown hair and small, oval glasses. “Seems to be a day for old acquaintances,” she said as she went over to the table. “Hi, Daria.”

Daria Morgendorffer looked up from the slice she was intently studying. “Andrea?”

“Mind if I have a seat?”

“What? Oh, no. Please.”

“How’s your sister doing?”

“Still hospitalized. You heard about her?”

“I’m the chopper pilot that medivaced her and another guy out of Tallil two months ago.”

“I never pictured you in the Army.”

“Neither did I, but it seemed like a good way to build up a college fund. My folks never had much money. Should have finished up back in July, but my enlistment was extended. I head back to Iraq at the end of the week.”

“Oh.”

“You were always smart, what are you up to?”

“I started grad school this last fall. Majoring in English.”

“Cool. Still writing?”

“When I can. I’ve managed to sell a couple short stories.”

“Wow. Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“You know, your sister and the guy she was with are the only patients I’ve seen. I normally can’t look, but I had to when I heard her name.”

“I can’t imagine what you have been through.”

“Trust me; never try. You might appreciate one thing; she complained that the blood had ruined her best set of BDU’s”

Daria lightly laughed. “Glad she’s kept some of that. We’ve been so worried about her, ever since she was hurt the first time.”

“Oh, man. That was her second trip?”

Daria nodded. “She was lucky the first time, if that missile hadn’t been a dud, she wouldn’t have made it.”

“There is no luck in combat, only blind chance.”

“I’ll take your word. She got out of that fine, but this last one, she hasn’t.”

“Yeah, you said she was still hospitalized, it didn’t look that bad.”

“Infection. She almost lost a lung to it. Doctors say it will only be at no more than half capacity.”

“Sounds like her ticket home.”

“It sounds crass, but we hope so.”

“So do I.”

“Thanks. Look, I’d only stopped here for a quick lunch before heading back to Boston; I need to get on the road. Thanks for stopping by.”

“My pleasure. I hope your sister gets home soon.”

“I hope you can, too.”