And Then There Was One

In the Strip Club

CHAPTER TWENTY

When she went to start her truck, it refused to start for a few seconds, and she regretted trying it out earlier. Finally, it caught, and ran normally. “Thanks for small favors, God,” she said aloud, and she was soon on her way home. The only traces she could see of the theft inside was a large crack in the lower dash, but she dismissed that as trivial. The stereo wasn’t as nice as the original, but she couldn’t care less, as long as it played.

It lit up, but no sound issued forth from anywhere. It was then she noticed the gaping holes in the door panels were her speakers used to be.

“Like protecting my tender and sensitive ears from anything but road noise,” she sighed, driving past the pizzeria. A glance revealed only a few faces she almost knew, two of the J’s, but mostly kids from Quinn’s class.

“Damn. Only a week after school lets out, and the few people I know are either working, or recovering from it,” she mused aloud, an idle thought reminding her, “And I still have to make all these arrangements with Mike and Jeffy? I should swipe Quinn’s dayplanner to see how she did it. Hopefully, my eyes won’t auto-gouge themselves out accidentally.”

Turning into the driveway, she saw her dad in the living room, apparently waiting for something. Seeing him rise and quickly disappear towards the kitchen aroused her suspicions.

“Hmmm. Dad waiting in the living room without a drink or a newspaper can only mean one thing,” she thought, grabbing her pack. “Oh shit! I forgot to stop by Jane’s! Dammit! The second either one of them sees me like this, they’re gonna think I became ‘normal’, or something. Too tired to make up good alibi, too late now to go over to Jane’s, and if I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m gonna sit here all night hearing voices in my head!”

Snapping herself out of the spell, she wearily got out, leaving her jacket inside, and shuffled towards the front door. To his credit, Jake wasn’t waiting for her by the door, but chose to surprise her as she peeked into the kitchen.

“Hey kiddo!” he exclaimed, in his shockingly happy voice.

“Gahhh! Aren’t you supposed to be sitting behind your paper to give me that false sense of security, or something? That was in one of those damn pamphlets you keep picking up.”

“Really? I suppose it’s too late for that now, huh?” he grinned, nervously. “Ha ha, you had us worried there for a little while, you know? Now, Daria, your mother and I…”

“Dad, I’m eighteen now. I understand you’re worried about me, and the truck. I’m fine, the truck is fine, and I’ve had a really hard week, in ways you couldn’t imagine. I now have to…never mind. I have some things I need to do before going to bed, because tomorrow, I have an appointment for some…training, for work,” she hesitated, stifling a yawn.

“Training? That’s great, honey! Quinn mentioned that she stopped by, and I think it’s great you included your little sister in your job! She was a little vague about what you actually do there, but anyway…What do you do there?” he asked, his voice rising a half-octave, as he remembered what Helen said about the business. Daria smirked.

“Well, if I told you I was a dominatrix, you might have another heart attack, but all I am is doing filing, and I got his check-writing program to work. And a few other things, as well,” she said, vaguely.

Fortunately, Jake laughed, somewhat mollified. “Filing, huh? I’d bet you make one heckuvan efficient little secretary. And you’re cute as a bug, too! There’s something different about you, though. I can’t quite put my finger on it…” he said, as she stood before him in a borrowed shirt, and shoes, hair barely combed since the night before, weaving slightly from exhaustion.

“Whatever. Good night, Dad. I’ll be upstairs,” she said over her shoulder, trudging up the stairs.

“Whew! That’s a relief! Filing! Hah!” he muttered to himself. “And here Helen thought she was going to become a stripper to get back at us! Hah!” he laughed nervously, before dashing to the downstairs computer to look up the word “dominatrix”.

She knocked on Quinn’s door. “It’s about stinkin’ time!” her little sister called out in annoyance, her gaze directed on a large book open on her bed. “Where were you? I though you got off an hour ago?”

“I was…sidetracked a little. Sorry. As soon as I take a shower and get into something comfortable.”

“Hah! When aren’t you in something comfortable, dressing like a refugee?” she said condescendingly, looking up. “Daria! You almost look…normal! What happened?”

“Nothing! I just…couldn’t wear my boots this morning. Something with my feet,” she replied, suddenly evasive. “No big deal, I, uh, just have to return these to Jane tomorrow.”

“It looks pretty good. Maybe you picked up something by absorption from me! I sure wish that worked the other way, though.”

“Kevin’s still giving you problems, huh? Okay, I made a promise, and I’ll keep it. I just need to take a quick shower to loosen up, or I’ll be a pretzel tomorrow. I’ll be back in a couple minutes,” Daria replied, painfully turning to go.

“Daria, wait! Let me see you walk for a second.” Quinn said, rising from her bed.

“Why? My feet just hurt, that’s all.”

“Just take a couple steps for me, okay? Please?”

Daria scowled, and obligingly took about four steps in the room for her. “There. Happy? As you can tell, doctor, the patient has been on her feet all day. I need to go take that shower, Quinn, before I fall over right here,” she warned.

Smiling coyly, Quinn wagged her finger. “On your feet all day, my ass! You were wearing high heels, and for too long! Don’t act all innocent, Daria, if there’s one thing I know, and that’s calf cramps! You look just like a geeky little junior high girl after her first dance. Seriously, how high are they, and where have you been hiding them?”

Daria closed her eyes. “If I tell you, will you let it go? Yes, I was, and no, I won’t tell you why or where. And they were five-inch platforms, if you must know. No, they’re not here, and they probably never will be, either. I’ll be back after my shower, and we’ll talk about lesson plans for the cerebral black hole you’re attempting to tutor, no more!”

“Sounds fair enough. As intriguing as hearing about why you were wearing heels is, I’m too burned out trying to get that big dummy to even bother coming by! Can you believe it?” Quinn groaned.

“That is hard to believe, seeing that his regular chew toy is laying low. As out of character as this may make me sound, could it be the way you look that may be your problem?” Daria observed.

Quinn paled, as she whirled to look in one of her many mirrors. She was dressed in a, old T-shirt, pajama pants, and her “comfy” slippers, which she normally kept hidden from all but her family members. Her hated glasses were dangling from their strap around her neck, and her hair was more than a little mussed, especially around her forehead, from repeated slaps.

“Guh-od! I though that might have something to do with it, but I promised the Thompson’s that I’d make Kevin know I wasn’t looking for a new boyfriend. And, to be honest, I wouldn’t even WANT that moron thinking I was interested,” she moaned.

“The first thing you gotta do is get their attention. That’s half the battle right there, Quinn, and if you got it, flaunt it. I’m not saying dress like a stripper, but you should know how to garner the correct amount of attention. After that, unless you can tie in football to your lesson plan, I couldn’t tell you. By the way, just how ambitious is this study course you’re attempting, anyway?” Daria asked, comfortable she was finally back in her own territory.

Quinn showed her the books DeMartino gave her. “I only have to get him up to GED level in English and History. Mrs. Bennett is handling the math parts at school, ‘cause nobody had that much patience for Kevin. The English isn’t my big problem, since it’s mostly true-false and multiple choice stuff, and we both know they’ll fudge that so he’ll pass. Ms. Li said, as long as he can sign his name on the endorsement contracts, and something about power of attorney to her, that’s good enough, but the history part is giving me fits! All he has to do is cover all those wars in the twentieth century, the big ones. Demartino gave me that, ‘cause he said it would probably be interesting enough to keep his “ninety second attention span”, as he put it.”

“That sounds about right, coming from DeMartino,” Daria said dryly. “Okay, Quinn, I think I have a solution for you. Let me take that shower, and we’ll get on my computer, and I’ll whip you up something that’ll keep his attention long enough for something to sink in.”

“Thanks, Daria! And, when you’re done, do you want some pointers on how to avoid crippling yourself in the future? No charge!” she replied cheerily.

Chewing her lip thoughtfully, Daria slowly nodded. “As strange as it sounds, yes, I do. I won’t tell you why, but I do have a reason to acquire that particular knowledge at this time. Give me about twenty minutes, and we can start.”

“Sounds fair. Oh, and that Tom called you twice, and Jeffy called, I think. When Dad handed me the phone, whoever it was hung up as soon as they heard me, so it must be him. He’s still a little cheesed over me dumping him as my steady back then.” Quinn said, breezily.

“That, and a bunch of things. Sorry, but I’m held to confidentiality, but, you’re down one stalker this year, I’m pretty sure about that,” Daria remarked, eyeing the bathroom longingly. “Tom called? He should still be at the lake with his family right now. No matter, I don’t have time for him right now. Twenty minutes!” she concluded, flatly, as she walked to her room.

The shower was heavenly, and she felt the stress melt away, if even for a few minutes. She laughed grimly, “Taking walking lessons from Quinn! Oh, how the mighty have fallen! I better write this down, so when I enter therapy, I keep my story straight.”

Afterwards, she left a message on Jane’s answering machine, and clicked on her computer, before getting Quinn.

“Quinn? Let’s get his over with. Grab the books, and your notes, and we’ll see if I can’t make this a little less painless than home dentistry,” she said, poking her head in the door. Quinn exited her closet, with an armful of clothes.

“Great! And after that, maybe I can help you get yourself looking a little better for work, too! That’s why you were wearing the heels, wasn’t it? Never fear, you have your strengths, I have mine, and I’ll help you out as much as I can.”

“Forgive me for failing to show any excitement at the prospect, but, thanks anyway. Come on,” she motioned, and they went to her room. Quinn made “tsk-ing” noises.

“When you go to college, I’ll have a job and a half re-doing this place,” she said, dryly.

“I would think Mom might have a say in that, and if you so much as dare to change this place a bit when I’m gone, I’ll post your ‘chubby’ pictures on the Web, I swear.” Daria replied, deadpan.

Quinn ignored her, and they sat down to get to work. “Okay, now. ‘Great Conflicts of the Twentieth Century’, a real snoozer of a title, and from what I read here, about as well written as an average comic book, which is still light years beyond Mr. Thompson’s ability. Lots of pictures of dead people and broken things, true, but still not enough to hold his attention for more than a moment or two.” Daria commented, as she began typing.

“Yeah, I know! I didn’t think it would be so hard, either. I mean, there’s all those war movies and stuff, but he can’t even get those! It’s like he can’t remember farther back than when he was freakin’ ten, Daria. And, if he goes to a party the night before, he’s even worse, falling asleep and making awful smells. God, I could kill Sandi!” she replied, fists clenched.

“Whoa, tiger. What’s Sandi have to do with Kevin being dumb as a box of rocks? I thought you two were ‘like, friends, and stuff’?” Daria quipped, punctuating with her fingers.

“It’s a long story. Let’s just say we don’t exactly see eye to eye on this tutoring thing,” Quinn sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose exactly like her sister. “She’s been making sure Kevin is at every freaking party in the county since I started.”

“Sounds like her. Why don’t you point out to him that if he doesn’t start perfoming, he won’t be playing football for a long, long, time. That should motivate him, shouldn’t it?” Daria asked, surprised at the source of her sister’s troubles.

“If only it were that easy! He seems to think that no matter what, he’ll get to slide by anyway, like he always has. You should have been there when I got into it with his mom! Next time, I’m taking your tape recorder! I could go for miles on that blackmail alone!”

“This I gotta hear. Quinn, tell me what happened, and it just may help to solve your problem.” Daria replied, intrigued that her sister could make the inferences she did. Quinn shrugged, and began to lay out the scenario, deviating only rarely into her idiosyncrasies regarding fashion and popularity, finally winding up with the fiasco earlier that day…

As usual, Kevin was late for his lessons, and again, forgot to bring his books. “Hey, babe! So, what are we gonna “learn” today? Any more of that war stuff?” he babbled amiably, plopping down on the chair she made him sit in when he was in her room.

He yawned mightily, and belched, making no attempt to conceal it. Quinn gave him a dangerous look, as she sighed,

“I see you didn’t feel like bringing your books again, right? And, from the looks of you, you probably spent the night at the kegger at Skylar’s, didn’t you? Well, that’s just freakin’ great, you know? Kevin, how do you expect to pass the freakin’ GED test if you don’t even bother trying?”

“Hey, no sweat, babe! I was talking with a couple of my bros, and they told me that test is a piece of cake! There’s even a place on the computer where you can buy the answers, even! I was thinking…”

“That’s a start, seeing as you probably haven’t had a coherent one since grade school,” Quinn interjected angrily.

“…That, since I can do it that way, maybe I should just quit doing this. It’s eating into my time in the weight room, and I could use a little more sleep lately! Whattaya think? Maybe we could start hitting the parties like normal people, huh? Babe?” he asked, seeing the smoldering look she was giving him.

“Kevin, whoever you were talking to obviously overlooked the fact you can barely read! I took that test when I volunteered for this job, and you don’t have a prayer of passing it it. I saw your pre-test, and about the only thing you got right was your name! And even then, you capitalized the wrong letters! Yesterday, I gave you one of the simplest assignments I could think of, and that was, what?” she challenged, her face getting red.

“Uhhhh, the…enemy?” he grinned vacantly. “No, wait, it was…the Raiders? Or maybe it was the Buccaneers? Now that would be a war! Yeah!”

It was all Quinn could do to keep from strangling him then. “Kevin,” she said, in the same dangerous tone her mother took when she was serious. “It was the German Empire, under Kaiser Wihelm. It was less than three freaking pages, Kevin, something you could have read in less time than the sports section of the paper. Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, coldly.

“The German Empire? Aren’t they professional wrestlers? Now you’re confusing me, babe! I thought we were working on wars and stuff?”

“Kevin! Three damn pages! I wrote it down, and put it in your pocket myself! Do I have to make you read this while you’re here? I will, you know!” she shrieked.

He pulled a slip of paper form his pocket, and handed it to her, “Uh-uh. Not today, babe. Coach wants me to work with the back-ups this afternoon, and he needs my head in the game. Here, my mom wrote you a note. I gotta go, so, see ya Monday!” he announced cheerfully, as he got up and left.

Quinn crumpled the note without bothering to read it, as she started to sob quietly…

Daria let out a low whistle after hearing her story unfold. “Wow, even I couldn’t imagine it would be so hard, Quinn. Hey, at least you’re giving it an honest effort, from what I see here from your notes.” she remarked.

“You have the right idea, and it would work with just about anyone but Kevin, so, it’s not you. Now let me see, what would make him WANT to be learn this stuff…” she mused absent-mindedly.

“Thanks, Daria. Mr. DeMartino said the same thing the other day when I showed him. But, what would make him want to learn this crap, especially since it had nothing to do with football?”

“Does he know that for sure? Maybe if you could parallel some football facts side-by-side with this stuff, he may be able to form a connection. Or, you could just teach in the nude. That would keep him occupied,” she said, sarcastically.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of that already. At first I thought it was because I dressed like you, and he all but fell asleep. Then, I tried to dress ‘normal’, and all he wanted to talk about was the next freaking party Sandi invited him to. I was thinking of breaking out the ‘big guns’, but he’d get the wrong idea, I think.” Quinn replied wearily.

“All depends on what you mean by ‘big guns’, Quinn. Though I’m sure painting the day’s lesson on various parts of your body may be helpful in the short term, he’d just read them wrong, and the last thing I want is to be calling him my brother-in-law.”

“As if! David spoiled me, I think. Anyway, I was thinking of going ‘angry vixen’ on him, make him want more, if you know what I mean. But, I still need something that’s gonna get results when he takes that test next week!”

“Hmmmm. You know, Quinn, the ‘angry vixen’ thingie may just work, especially combined with something I have in the back of my head. I’ll have to do some research on that ‘football parallel’ idea, and maybe this can carry over into his English, as well. First, though, we need to dumb this book down even more than it is, and that’s gonna reduce it to the level of cave paintings. This will take me some time, but I know I can help you, Quinn,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“Well, since it’s Friday night, you have all weekend, Daria. I was going to be a bitch about it, but you look like a zombie! Go and get some sleep! I can’t have a sister looking all wrinkly and dead-like! I have a reputation to uphold!”

“I thought you wanted this done tonight?” Daria asked, yawning again. “I can’t have a sister getting all warm, fuzzy and compassionate on me now. I have a reputation to uphold, too.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m more concerned you’d screw up, as tired as you look. You know, Mom and Dad aren’t exactly thrilled with what’s been going on since you got that truck.” Quinn said offhandedly.

“We’re speaking about the same people who overlook you coming in at two in the morning? The ‘accidental’ overnight stays at Sandi’s or Stacy’s cause you’re too drunk to come home? Spill what you heard, Quinn, I don’t have the time, energy, or resources to bribe you right now.” Daria sighed, feeling her headache return.

“Well, okay, but I don’t want this to become a habit! Last night, after you called, Mom got all freaky about you just up and disappearing for the night, especially after you hauled that…band’s stuff for them. Her and Dad were talking just a little too loudly, and I *happened* to overhear Mom telling Dad to do something to your truck. Something about clipping something, I don’t know mechanical stuff. Anyway, that’s what they said, so, I’d keep an eye out for Dad if he wants to ‘check out’ your wheels.”

“This is just freaking great!” she thought, closing her eyes. “It’s bad enough I get a job at that asylum, but now my own family is trying to sabotage me.”

Returning to reality, she said, “Thanks, Quinn. That wasn’t a freebie, but I don’t know how to pay you back just yet. Any ideas when he plans to do this?”She shook her head, and Daria cursed softly.

“If it’s anything, they’re going to one of those stupid relationship thingies tonight, so at least you don’t have to worry about Dad monkeying around with it tonight,” Quinn mentioned, optimistically.

“That’s relief, in a pathetic, horrible way. Whatever, I’m too beat to consider the alternatives right now. If he does, he does. Oh, before I go, I’m expecting a call from a ‘Bubbles’, that woman I work with. I have some…extra training I have to get. It’s kind of important.”She yawned deeply, and shook her head. “I gotta get some sleep. See you in the morning…”

Quinn watched as her sister staggered off to bed, mentally adding up the little clues Daria didn’t know she revealed. Years of practice scrutinizing people for comment and ridicule had honed her analytical abilities far in excess of what the world assumed she was capable of.

“Hmmm, from the funny walk, even given those shoes she’s wearing, she must have been wearing those heels for hours, if not all night. Her hair is even worse than normal, and I can tell she’s been somewhere there was a lot of smoke, cigar-smoke, too. That boss of hers sucks those turds, but she doesn’t smell like those, either. And I could definitely smell a little alcohol still on her breath. Yuck! She needs to learn to take a toothbrush with her!” she concluded, mentally ticking off the places she knew of that would combine those three elements: Young women in heels, cigar-smoke, and willing to serve underage drinkers, especially if they were young women in high heels. “And smoking cigars too?” she giggled aloud.

Then it hit her, as she remembered what was stacked up in Daria’s office, and what Lawndale Talent Agency was known for. “No way! That’s impossible!” she exclaimed. “Yeah, she has a pretty cute body under all those ugly clothes, but Daria? Ewwwww! There’s gotta be another reason!”

Quinn removed all the books and papers from her bed, listening to the muffled thumps coming from her sister’s room, as the mental image of her geeky, brainy sister wearing five-inch heels and pasties taunted her. “I wonder what the ‘training’ she has tomorrow is, for real?” she pondered, after hearing the soft sounds end. “There’s got to be a logical explanation for this, I’m sure of it!”

She lay down herself, hearing her mother finally pull up, and the quiet bickering that invariably ensued after one of her marathon days, nothing really bad, and it always died down soon after. She turned out her light, and continued to ponder the new mystery laid at her feet.

Morning came, and as usual, Helen was first up. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in! Fancy seeing you here, stranger!” she teased, as Daria shuffled zombie-like into the kitchen. Giving her mother a dirty look, she wordlessly poured a cup of coffee, and sat down.

“Mom? Please lay off me, at least for a while. I’ve had the week from hell, and a little understanding will go a long way, trust me,” she said, sleepily.

“I should have warned you, going from couch potato to driven workaholic is a staged process, and you have to work into it. How bad, really? I’m curious, okay?” Helen said carefully. Ears pricked, Daria replied, slowly and cautiously. “Well, to start with, the office I was given would have made an pig vomit, the other people that are connected to the place are functional lunatics, and after last night, and Tuesday, I’m completely wiped out. I still have to go to a ‘training’ session with the woman I work with today, and a little bird told me that you wanted my truck immobilized.”

“Damn that Quinn! One of these days, your father and I are going to remember to discuss things outside the house! Okay, it’s better we get this out of the way right now, rather than gandy-dance for a half hour with puns, half-truths, and double-entendres. Frankly, I don’t like what you’ve been doing ever since you got that damn truck, Daria.” Helen replied sternly. “And, what bothers me the most is the fact that it’s you who’s doing it. I’d expect this from Quinn, which is why she isn’t getting a car until she’s eighteen, too,” she said, purposely letting her voice carry, in case there were ‘other’ listeners.

“Sweetie, it’s not that I…We, don’t trust you, or anything like that, it’s just that we’re worried that…well, you might be…tempted to ‘make-up’ for lost time. You know what I mean.”

“No Mom, I don’t. ‘Making up for lost time?’ Please, like, all of a sudden, now that I have a little freedom, I might suddenly decide to do something completely out of character? Something stupid? Like, maybe, taking off my shirt for stunt drivers, say?” she said, heatedly.

“No! Dammit, I mean, no, not like that, I hope. It’s just that, until recently, you couldn’t be torn from your room without a crowbar, and now, we hardly see you anymore, and it’s just the first week! We…Oh, hell! I don’t want you to take all your gifts and achievements and throw them away pointlessly!” Helen said, matter-of-factly. “It can only take a minute, or one little mistake, and it’s all gone nowadays. It was one of the biggest reasons we left Highland, not wanting you girls to be swallowed up like that.”

“So, the uranium in the drinking water really wasn’t it? Mom, believe me, I understand what you might be thinking, but I have it under control, really. Yeah, this week was strange, I’ll admit, but from here on out it’ll be better. Trust me.” Daria replied, flatly.

“You know, the three phrases a parent dreads hearing are, ‘I understand what you’re thinking,’ ‘I have it under control,’ and ‘Trust me’. Honey, we do trust you, it’s the other six billion people in the world we’re not sure about.” Helen explained, softly. Daria stared at the table, thinking of a snappy comeback to that one, but failing.

“Okay, it sounds lame. But, will you believe me when I say I want to keep this job, no matter how hard it is?” she asked, looking up coolly. “You’ve always given me a hard time about not finishing what I started, right? Well, I’m going to finish this, even though I’d love to quit right now,” she replied, pausing to take a sip from her cup.

“ I look at it this way, everybody has that ‘nightmare’ job in their lives, right? Maybe it’s better if I get the nightmare out of the way sooner, rather than later. And you’re right, before this week, you did need explosives to get me out of my room. Well, I’m out of my room now, why do you want me back inside?”

Helen took a long time to answer, not wanting to send the discussion into the wrong direction. “You’re right, and no, I don’t want to put you back in your room. You’re an adult now, and responsible for yourself, true, but you have never been…so outgoing, as you are now, and I’m afraid that someone may take advantage of your…inexperience in certain matters, is all I’m saying.”

“Huh! And what has my personality got to do with this? Hell, Mom, you know I drive people away, more than I attract them!” she lied, seeing the faces of Jeffy and Mike momentarily. “And I’m not stupid, either! I made it to work all this week, even with the late nights, and I got my job done. That has to count for something, doesn’t it? Either tell me what you want, directly, or leave me the hell alone, okay? I’m having a hard enough time as it is, and I need all the help I can get. Please?” she asked, trying not to let her voice slide into a sarcastic tone.

Helen stared at her, her face an unreadable mask. “All right. Truce. I’ll call off your father, and we’ll let you make your own choices on this matter. But,” she raised her finger in warning. “If it looks like you’re heading for a fall, we won’t stand idly by. You have too much at stake to throw away so quickly. Your father and I came very, very, close ourselves, and I’ve seen the aftermath too many times in my career. We love you, and care about you, don’t you see?”

It was Daria’s turn to be reflective, as she thought about her decision to repay Rocky. “Dammit. I hate when you do that, Mom. All right, I accept what you say, and I’ll avoid keeping the crazy hours anymore,” she lied again, knowing that if she decided to follow through, she’d be working very late, very often. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready. There’s a woman who’ll be calling anytime. She’s…uh, teaching me a few more things about how the place works,” she fibbed, “And the quicker I get this over, the sooner I placate your fears, and return to my normal vegetative state this weekend. I’m sure you’ll be thrilled,” she smirked.

“I’m looking forward to it. Makes it easier for me to keep an eye on you.” Helen smiled back. “So, may I ask what this ‘training’ entails? And just why are you walking funny, dear?”

Daria groaned inwardly. “Oh. It’s nothing, just a little tired, that’s all,” she said quickly, avoiding eye contact.

“Hmmmm. If you say so, dear” she said, eyes hooded suspiciously. “Maybe this will serve as a reminder of what burning the midnight oil gets you. And the training?”

Daria took a deep breath, and looked at her mother seriously. “Oh, nothing much, really. You know, just learning the business, who gets paid what, who goes where, learning to become a stripper, things like that. Well! I’m going to go get dressed, and hide my truck before Dad gets up.”

“Very funny, Daria. I don’t care, as long as this doesn’t turn into another all-nighter, I’ll be happy.” Helen replied testily, as her daughter rose again. “Do I have your word?”

“Yes, you have my word, Mom. But, if my job requires me to work…odd hours, how would you feel about that?” she ventured carefully, standing in the doorway. “Like, maybe working very, very, late, perhaps? Would I still have to put a guard dog on my truck?”

“It all depends. God knows I work strange hours, so if that’s what you have to do, I suppose it would be all right. Why?”

Daria carefully composed her words, trying balance the truth with the need to keep her secret safe. “Well, while most of the work is done during regular hours, Mr. Salvatore does do most of his business after six o’clock, and I’d need to…be available after that time.”

“I see. Well, if that’s part of your job then, I guess I couldn’t dictate to you when you worked anymore than you could dictate to me. Just so long as there are no more of these last minute sleep-overs, understand? Now, you’d better get out to your truck, since I just saw your father sneaking out the back door with his toolbox.”

Cursing under her breath, Daria whirled and charged out the front door in her sleeping shirt, barefoot. “Dad! Stop!” she cried, seeing him lift the hood.

“Uhhh, hey, kiddo! You’re up early! Just gonna check your oil, and sparkplugs for ya!” he stammered, guiltily.

“I already know Mom wanted you to disable the truck, and I just talked to her. Dad, put the toolbox down, and nobody gets hurt,” she said, dangerously. He laughed nervously, as he lowered the hood.

“Heh-heh. You know, it’s the darndest thing. I go and get this for you, and your mom wanted me to kill it. Good thing it isn’t a dog, huh?” he replied, avoiding his daughter’s glare.

“Look, Dad, I really appreciate you guys looking out for me, you know? And I know that Mom can be intimidating sometimes, so I won’t hold a grudge, because I know you wouldn’t think to do this on your own. If you want, you can show me how to check the oil, and stuff,” she said quickly, seeing his face fall.

“Yeah! That is something I never got around to showing you before. Hey, after that, wanna learn how to change a tire?” he offered cheerfully, glad his mission had been changed from destruction to construction.

Daria smirked. “Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I have to get ready for something later today. Please don’t do anything to my truck.”

“Don’t worry. It’s a relief not to have to do this, you know. I kind of feel it’s like giving you a piece of candy, and then taking it away,” Jake sighed, setting his toolbox down. “I’ll be waiting, kiddo!”

She went back inside, and quickly got dressed, hoping that Bubbles would forget all about the ‘training’ session. It wasn’t until Jake had showed her how to check all the fluids, and made her do it a few times, that Quinn called out from her window,

“Daria! That woman from work called! Hurry up, I’m waiting for a call!”

“Damn,” she muttered, wiping the grease from her hands. “Go get your call, hon, I’ll button everything up. Scoot!” Jake chuckled.

Checking to see that her mother was occupied in her home office, Daria picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, Dar, are you ready? We’ll have the whole house to ourselves, ‘cause my old man is out golfing today.” Bubbles said, brightly. “I’ve already called Jane, and she’s waiting for you to come by and pick up your things. She knows where the house is, so I’ll see you in a bit. Oh! Before I forget, you won’t need any of the costumes, just the shoes and some exercise clothes, gym trunks, or something like that.”

“That’s a relief. I’m not sure I can ever wear that one dress again, Bubbles. We’ll be over in an hour, okay? Bye.”

She hung up the phone, nearly certain Quinn had heard the entire conversation. “The hell with that. I’m gonna get this out of the way, and as soon as she sees how much of a klutz I am, there’ll be no more of this ‘dancer’ nonsense!” she thought smugly.

Quickly washing up, she grabbed her duffel bag, Jane’s shoes and shirt, and made to leave. Quinn peeked out of her room.

“Don’t forget, you still have to do that for me!” she reminded her, with a pleading look on her face.

“I didn’t, Quinn. As soon as I’m done, I’ll be right back here, and we’ll take the whole afternoon, and get you something workable.”

“Cool! Uhhh, do you think we can do this outside? I’ve been letting my tan slip a little…”

Daria smirked. “I don’t see why not. Even I could use a little sun from time to time. See you later, sis,” she said, descending the stairs quietly, lest she find herself in another conversation with her mother. She hopped in the truck, and it started right up.

“This would have been a good time for you to stall, you know. Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped him, at that…” she mused, as she made her way to Jane’s.

Seeing neither the Tank, nor Trent’s car, she parked in the driveway, and went to the door. “Yo, Daria! Come on in!” Jane called from upstairs. She went in, and saw the shopping bags on the couch, topped by her own boots, and the hated shoes from the evening before.

“I remember you guys,” she whispered. “Once this nonsense is over with, you are so done for!” as she carefully folded the outfits and accessories and stuffed them in her duffel bag.

Jane came bounding down the stairs in her running gear, a bottle of water, and her round overnight case in her hands.

“Oh good! I was gonna call you and say to bring something to put those in. I had the worst time keeping the guys from messing with them last night!” she snickered.

“Hey, if they want ‘em, tell ‘em they’re free to take them. Just as long as I never have to find out who did.” Daria smirked back, feeling a little better that she wasn’t doing this alone.

“Oh no you don’t! I definitely want to see what you look like in every one of those things, amiga!”came her reply, as she dumped her case beside Daria’s bag.

“If you want, you can change in here. Some people are a little intimidated by their bathroom, I’ll warn you now!” Jane added, as she rifled through her case.

“Thanks, I will. So, how do you know Bubbles that you’re warning me about their commode, eh?” Daria asked, jamming the boots on top of the load of clothes before zipping the bag up.

“A couple years ago, when Trent and the band first signed on with Rocky, they hosted a barbeque for the talent, and I tagged along. If you think the Sloanes or Brittany’s house is tacky, next to this place, they’re shacks. Frank, Bubble’s husband, inherited a bunch of money, and plowed it into the house, and now it looks more like an upscale Italian restaurant than a home anymore.” Jane explained, putting her shades on.

“Oh good. I was in the mood for breadsticks. Did she say how long this would take?” Daria said sourly, as she regarded the load of exotic clothing she now had to lug around.

“Ehh, it can’t take more than an hour or two before she gets bored and we end up in their hot tub. I don’t see it getting any more involved than that,” came Jane’s reply, as she opened the door. “Well, come on! Let’s get this over with!”

“For an hour or two, I hope. Jeez, Jane, I feel like I’m stumbling through a bad dream. The job itself is bad enough, but how the hell did I get mixed up with this exotic dancer thing again? And what about you? I thought you told me Rocky would nix you from ever doing anything like this?” Daria asked, as she climbed back in the truck.

“Feh. Rocky knows I’m eighteen now, and if he doesn’t want me working for a rival agency, he hasn’t a choice. Besides, waiting for those slugs to pay me back isn’t gonna help me get to college, so, other than cranking out reproductions for Gary or flipping burgers somewhere, this is it.”

“I was gonna ask you about that, Jane. Just why are you so gung-ho for this? Doesn’t the thought of doing this creep you out?”

“Nahhh. I figure, it doesn’t hurt my artistic integrity, I can always fall back on it in the future, and hey, I’m sure it might give me an edge with a gallery owner someday. I learned that little tidbit from that Alison chick I told you about” Jane replied, sourly.

“I can see that. Never mind me, I’m still trying to find some way to chicken out of this myself, as if you didn’t know, but that repair bill keeps floating through my mind. Maybe I should have just played it straight, and called the cops and insurance company, and let my parents get righteously freaked out and force me to quit.” Daria replied, carefully backing out of the driveway.

“I wondered why you didn’t do that, myself. I can’t see you going through with this deal, to be honest,” Jane replied, eyes averted.

“I can’t either, but I’ve had a couple of epiphanies about myself, and me not finishing what I started, and not trying new things. Somehow, though, this isn’t what I expected to follow through on,” she replied, crossly. “Oh, and thanks for the ringing vote of confidence, too.”

“Sorry. You gotta admit though, this is the last thing anybody would expect you doing, right? I mean, someone like Brit, or your sister and her friends, yeah but…”

“Not a brain, right? Well, I guess its time to prove a brain can do something as stupid and demeaning as anybody else, dammit!” Daria said wryly.

“Now that’s the spirit! Hey, if you’re gonna go to hell, do it in style, right? Even if it is in a style guaranteed to drive a normal set of parents insane. So, have you thought of what you’ll say when they invariably discover what this side of the job has become, amiga?” Jane laughed. Daria just shrugged helplessly.

“Of all the things I’ve had a snappy comeback or alibi for, this one stumps me like no other. I’d ask Amy, but I’m afraid she’d get all aunt-like, and drop dime on me as soon as I told her.”

“And I take it Quinn the Brain knows nothing as well?”

“Are you kidding? I may as well stick a loudspeaker in the back of this thing, and announce it all over town then. No, I figure she’ll find out soon enough, but I’m gonna make sure her silence is bought long before that happens. Do you know she could tell I spent the night in heels? She thinks I was trying to impress a guy or something,” Daria explained. Jane snickered, and pointed ahead of them.

“Turn there, and Bubble’s house is on the end of the street. Be prepared for tackiness squared, I’m warning you now,” she said jokingly. “You’ll see more statues here than the museum ever dreamed of. Next to this place, Steve Taylor’s house is tastefully refined.”

“You mean that monstrosity there?” Daria replied, as they turned into a wide, flagstone- paved driveway, guarded by two columns topped by grotesque figures of satyrs blowing pan-pipes.

The house was a more-or-less faithful reproduction of a Roman palazzo, with Classical columns framing the double door in front, and red tile shingles atop gleaming white walls. True to Jane’s word, statuary populated the grounds in absurd numbers, spoiling an otherwise handsome lawn and garden.

“You weren’t kidding. Let’s just hope it’s a little more sedate inside, Jane.” She murmured, pulling up behind Bubble’s sports car. The blonde woman was on the front porch, waving.

“Hey, girls! Welcome to our home. Or museum. Whatever. I take absolutely no responsibility for my husband’s taste in decoration,” she said, escorting them inside. “He has this idea that if it looks like a Roman emperor lives here, it automatically garners respect in the neighborhood. So far, we’ve had a couple dozen complaints from the neighbors over this mess, and every weekend the kids either knock over one of the damn things, put bras on ‘em, or steal ‘em outright and stash them in the woods.”

Inside, it was little different, with faux-marble floors and walls, sumptuous drapes and rugs, and period Roman furniture in every room Daria could see in.

“He refuses to allow me to put in normal things down here, but he insists on keeping the upstairs looking like a white-trash wet dream, with overhead mirrors, and his damn big screen TV. I managed to convince him to put in a little gym so I can keep looking like the air-headed stripper he married. Follow me,” she said, apologetically, as she led them to a room towards the rear of the house.

“So, where does he keep the exotic animals he feeds the Christians to? This is like living in a Cecil B. DeMille movie, you know?” Daria said, awed by the garish appointments that lined the walls.

“Please! He tried to get a lion once, but the town refused to give him a permit for it,” Bubbles sighed, opening a normal appearing door, and flipping a light switch, revealing a fairly well-equipped home gym, complete with a mirrored wall, stationary bike, and exercise machine

“Well, at least this room sort of looks normal, although exercising isn’t what I consider normal, as per se,” Daria remarked, as she dropped her gym bag to the floor. “So, do I have to get dressed up, or what?”

Bubbles shook her head. “God, no! If Frank came in here then, he’d have a heart attack! Just the shoes for now, please. Next lesson I’ll show ya how to wear that crap the right way, and how to strip it off and when. After seeing you the other night, we’re definitely going to take this in baby steps, no pun intended.”

“None taken. I didn’t do too bad in these boots,” Daria said, holding up the high-heeled analogues to her normal footwear. “Except for the mind searing pain every time I took a step, but I could at least hobble around almost normally.”

“As opposed to your normal hobble, that is,” Jane chuckled, kicking her running shoes off, and pulling out a pair of sparkly high-heeled platform shoes.

“Where in God’s name did you get those abominations, Jane? I’ve never seen those in your closet before.”

“Because they weren’t IN my closet, amiga. I snagged these from Summer’s leftovers when she moved out. Once upon a time, she worked for Rocky as a dancer, too.” Jane responded flatly. Daria gave her a strange look.

“But I thought he didn’t want any of his family members doing this kind of work….ahhh, I see now…” she said, as the realization why dawned on her. Bubbles piped up, as she was stretching on a wall-mounted bar.

“Jane’s sister picked it up when she dropped out of Lawndale. She did pretty well, but there was a little…disagreement…between her boyfriend at the time, and a ‘gentleman’ who apparently was convinced that his ‘gratuity’ entitled him to more than a terpsichordean performance, if you catch my drift. After the high-speed chase across the state-line, and the fines over in Fremont, he decided that maybe having his cousins in this line of work left a bad taste in is mouth. I’ll show ya the file he kept on it, hon.” Bubbles replied seriously, performing a slow, graceful spinning move, almost akin to something Daria had once seen in a martial arts flick.

“Hoo Boy! That I gotta see!” Jane exclaimed, herself performing stretches and bends as she limbered up for whatever the blonde was about to throw at them. Daria reflected on the comparison between the two: Jane had always seemed to her so much more athletic then she, but next to the older woman, she almost appeared as a clumsy child.

“Yeesh! If I could even remember one of those stupid stretches they taught me in dance, I’d be lucky!” she thought, awkwardly removing the high heeled boots from her bag and plopping down on the ground to put them on. Bubbles noticed her doing this, and said,

“You can wear those today, but ya gotta remember, if you get used to just one pair, you’re gonna be screwed if you need to do costumes and stuff, hon. Just make sure you take the other ones for a walk now and then, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. Say, what if I really can’t pull this off? Can I return this crap so I don’t have to pay for it as well?” Daria asked, clumsily rising with the aid of the bar.

“I suppose you could, but the naughties you’ll have to keep. But I have a feeling you’ll do just fine, Daria! Give yourself a little credit, girl!” Bubbles giggled, as she gracefully entered a full split, a spritely look on her face.

“I don’t know, Bubbles,” Jane chimed in, still stretching her legs on the bar. “I’ve seen Daria in gym class before, and I wouldn’t…uhhh, sorry, amiga. Just trying to help,” she muttered sheepishly, seeing Daria’s simmering gaze.

“Okay, you wanna see a klutz in action, baby, you got it! Just let me try to remember how to freakin’ stretch and I’ll show you something!” she snapped angrily, swing her foot up on the bar and imitating what she’d seen them doing. Bubbles let her go through some basic stretches and bends before clapping her hands.

“Okay, you two! Enough of the games, it’s time for you to learn how to walk like a pro… Whoops! Maybe I should rephrase that,” she snickered, seeing their heads snap up at the word “pro”.

“Just watch me, and do as I do, and you’ll do just fine, at least until you have to start dancing, that is.” She then proceeded to gracefully slide and strut, like a bizarre cross between a peacock and a show pony, hips and buttocks gyrating in tight little circles as she crossed the room, each leg recoiling from the ground as if spring loaded, catlike.

“Wow. If I were a guy, I’d be on the floor, standing straight up,” Jane quipped, obviously impressed.

Nodding, Daria grudgingly agreed.“Yeah. Hell, even Quinn would be drooling if she saw that. It’s worth that thought alone to learn this crap, then.”

“That’s what I want to hear, ladies, positive attitude! You’re a goddess, a queen, they’re here to see YOU. You are the focus of every eye in the room, boys and girls alike. When you’re up there, you’re able to do things with a flick of your finger that you couldn’t get them to do for cold, hard, cash. And they like it! They want it! And they want to pay to see more, but all they can do is look, because you’re on your throne when you’re up there,” Bubbles waxed eloquently, executing a perfect turn and returning, still bumping and grinding, punctuating the unspoken words her body was saying with snaps of her fingers.

“C’mon! Let’s play Follow The Leader! Now!” she ordered, and first Jane, and then Daria began to walk behind her, trying to imitate the buxom woman as she crisscrossed the room, heels flashing back and forth as she kept the strut going.

“God! I feel ridiculous doing this!” Daria breathed, as she caught her toe on a down stroke and almost fell into Jane, who was struggling herself to copy Bubbles’ strut.

“Hey, girl! Like I don’t feel stupid doing this too? It’s just a part of the game you have to play. If you can do this any amount of time, you can make it from the dressing room to the stage, and you make half your tips on the trip up there, you know? The boys don’t pay to see a klutz, and the show starts when you close that door!” Bubbles said, huskily. “For a minute, forget the book learning, forget your shame, forget your clumsiness, and just walk! Empty your head!”

“Think like a cheerleader, grasshopper!” Jane chortled. “When you can snatch the pastie from my hand you will be ready, Daria-san!”

“Just tell me when we get to the part I get to shove one of these heels up someone’s butt, Jane. I can use you as a practice dummy!” Daria replied cattily.

“Don’t make me break out my whip, girls!” Bubbles snickered, still leading them in the exaggerated walk. “Although, if you get one of those, you can bump your tips up by almost twenty five percent on a good night!”

For a good twenty minutes, she led them around the room, up and over the steppers and around her equipment, pointing out how to avoid tripping up on drunkard’s feet, staying out of “pinching” range, and the pros and cons of carpeting versus hard flooring before stopping them.

“Okay, ladies. Take a little breather, before we start doing the stage drills,” she announced, picking up a water bottle.

“Wait a minute! I thought all we were doing was learning to walk in these damn things?” Daria whined, in mid-stoop to remove the offending footwear. “I am in no shape to even fake any dance steps, Bubbles!”

“Oh be quiet! Don’t you think I can’t tell that already? This is just a little exercise to teach you how not to fall off the damn stage in the dark, hon. Jane, grab the other end of this,” she said, holding up a roll of tape.

Together, they set up a rough rectangle in the middle of the room, and with both their help, dragged an exercise bicycle out of what she termed, the “Danger Zone”.

“Y’see, girls, you’re gonna be doing your thang up on a little bitty platform at the back of a dark, smoky room. Maybe you’ll have some lights, but they’re not for your sake, they’re for the juiced-up losers there to see you, and most of them are shining right in your damn eyes anyway. I teach the new girls this drill so they get used to staying in the marks instinctively, so I don’t have to fill out medical claim forms the next day,” she explained, turning the lights down low.

“Next time, we’ll do it with some music, but today, you just get used to keeping your head up while you mentally measured out the dimensions of the stage. Every one is a little different, and the experienced girls know that their first ‘walk-around’ is when they figure that out. It’s also when you size up the crowd, who’s the tippers, who’s the flippers, and who you’re gonna have to keep an eye out for,” she added seriously.

“Jeez, Bubbles, you make this sound like it’s a real job or something,” Daria chided petulantly. “I mean, come on, all you really have to do is shake around a little bit, wear these stupid clothes, and avoid falling on your ass. How hard can this really be?”

“You sound like a typical college snot, hon. I did too, and in some ways, you’re right. This isn’t that hard to do, providing you can walk in them damn shoes!” Bubbles teased. “But there are a few really important things ya gotta know, and not falling off the stage is one of ‘em. Another is gauging the potential ‘take’ from the crowd, and what you’re gonna have to do to earn it.”

“What does that matter, really?” Daria asked, as she stretched her already cramping legs a little more. “I mean, I know what the dancers make already. So what if I don’t get those extra bucks from the crowd, right?”

“You have it all figured out, right? Yeah, Rock does pay his girls a good piece of change, that’s true, but you also know how much the freakin’ government takes out, and that’s before the sin tax Carter County snags before you’ll even see your first check!” Bubbles chided, setting down her water bottle. “Those singles and fives are where you really start to make all this crap pay off, ‘cause you don’t really have to let anyone know how much you get from there. Yeah, there’s a formula in the computer that takes it out automatically, and what you have to do is make more than that percentage to make all this stupidity worthwhile.”

“But didn’t you say back at the club you could make even more doing the full Monty? And what about the casinos and those, uh, ‘fetish clubs’?” Jane asked, a perplexed look on her face.

Bubbles sighed. “Yeah, I know what I told you then, and that is true. But seriously, would either of you really want to do some of those things on stage? I mean, that five hundred to a thousand bucks doesn’t come easy. Sometimes there is real pain involved, or doing some pretty sick and depraved things, right on the edge of illegality, and I really can’t see either of you two going that route.”

The girls exchanged worried looks before Daria replied, “Okay, Bubbles, I think we get your point. Please don’t fill in the blanks on this one, okay? So it’ll be a little less than you said earlier. I can live with that, how about you, Jane?”

“Yeeeeeah, right now my imagination is going a little overboard at the ‘sick and depraved and real pain’ part, so I’m gonna go with a yes on that one, too.”

The blonde woman grinned, a bit sadly, as if remembering something. “Wise choice. And, for you, Jane, it will make it easier to convince Rocky to let you work. Well! Now that we’re over this stumbling block, how about you two show me how not to fall on your asses when you show up for work some dark night, hey?”

Grudgingly, Daria, and then Jane demonstrated to her what she’d shown them, carefully pacing out the taped rectangle in the darkened room as Bubbles played a high-powered lantern in their faces, occasionally pointing out a few mistakes they were making, before they heard a car pulling up the driveway.

“Whoops! Looks like school is out for the day, ladies!” Bubbles smirked. “That’s Frank, and while he may get a kick out of three women here in his house, I don’t. I’ll tell you when we can get together again at work, Daria, and I want to see you in a pair of heels next time, understand? You need to be able to walk more naturally than you are now, and just once in a while doesn’t cut it, okay?”

“Excuse me? Walking in these things is anything but ‘natural’, Bubbles. And not to sound like a wimp, if my either my mom or sister saw me in these things, I’d never hear the end of it!” Daria said forcefully.

“I didn’t say you had to wear the damn things to bed, now did I? God! Even I’m not that stupid! Just take ‘em with you to work, and when you’re not walking around, take the silly things off! Trust me, in a week you won’t know the difference!” she snickered, as she escorted them out of her exercise room.

As they headed for the door, there was the burly man from the club standing at a sideboard, fixing himself a drink. In contrast to the ferocious countenance of that evening, his face was neutral, a faint grin playing on his lips as he heard the clop clop clop of the woman approaching.

“Hey, baby! Teachin’ another class, I see.” He half-chuckled, eyeing the girls appreciatively as they came near. “They look a little young, though. I don’t know if Rocky’s gonna go for these two, if you want my opinion,” he added thoughtfully.

“Frankie, you already know what Rocky thinks of your opinion, and you remember, this is my area of expertise, ya big goof! He hasn’t questioned me once on the dancers I trained for him, has he?” she challenged, shooing Daria and Jane ahead.

“Ahhhhh, crap! Alright, you win! Just tell me the next damn time you take the newbies on a tour, dammit! You know how I get sometimes!” he growled. She strutted over to him and placed an outright sinful kiss on his face.

“Mmmm-hmmmm! Have ya ever thought it’s why I do things like that?” she purred, winking at the girls as they looked away bashfully. “Now let me get these two out of here and I can give you a proper welcome home, okay?”

He gurgled incomprehensibly, and she broke the embrace, joining them as they reached the door.

“Now remember, both of you, at least an hour a day, I want you to stretch out, wear the damn things, and try not to hurt yourselves, especially you, Jane. Watch it when you’re running, and you might want to join her too, Daria. You could get a little toner than you are now, okay? See you Monday!” she said, closing the door behind them.

Walking back to the truck, Daria groaned softly. “A little toner? Go running? This damn truck is getting more and more expensive by the minute, Jane.”

Jane snickered. “I’ve been trying to get you out there ever since I met you, and all it takes is one stripper’s class! If I’d have known a couple years ago…”

Daria gave her a dangerous look. “You can always walk home from here, O Toned One.” She plopped down on the seat and wrenched her shoes off with a contented sigh. “Hellooooo, bare feet! Remind me to take my tenny runners with me next time! Now all I have to do is help Quinn figure out how to educate a walking vegetable, and my day is done.”

“She’s still trying to do that tutoring thing, huh? I’ll give her credit, she ain’t afraid of a challenge, is she?” Jane said, pulling her footwear off as well. “So, do you have any idea of how you’re gonna help her with that impossible task? Or are you just aiming to assist her towards her first nervous breakdown?”

Daria started the truck and pulled away before responding. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue. She actually does have a fairly good plan worked out on her own, but Kevin is something nobody can ever be fully prepared for. Actually, I was just going to help her bow out of this gracefully, since she’s been pretty decent to me the last couple of weeks, and frankly, that alone is good enough for me.”

“Getting soft in your old age, huh, Daria? I’d have thought you would use this to drive her completely off the deep end, to be honest. Or do you have some other twisted plan up your sleeve, amiga?” Jane asked, slyly. Daria cocked an eye at her, and shrugged.

“Nahhh. That would require far more brain power than I have to spare right now. I was just going to tell her to start dressing slutty until he did something stupid, thus allowing Mom or Dad to forbid him from the house, thus saving her from having to quit herself. That way, she didn’t really fail, nobody helped her more than she deserved, and Kevin isn’t contaminating my house when I’m not there. Just to be on the safe side, I’m going to have a little talk with DeMartino about this, and see if he can start finding some other victim for this job. Nobody deserves what she’s going through. And that’s damn hard for me to say, especially about her,” she replied flatly.

“Sounds like a plan, then. So, after all that is over, pizza, or do you want to get started on the ‘toning process’?” Jane asked offhandedly.

“Pizza will do. I’ll get back to you on the other thing, though. I really need to get some rest, Jane. This week has been hell on me.”

Jane chuckled. “Okay, O Soft and Flabby One. You have your respite, but I will be holding you to at least trying once a week, okay?”

Daria just grumbled under her breath as she drove on.

Chapter 21

After dropping Jane off, Daria headed home, thinking, “Damn. Of all the things I decide to do, this is the most outlandish idea I’ve ever had,” as the memory of her conversation with the vacuous bridesmaids at Erin’s wedding replayed itself in her head.

“To tell you the truth, I just don’t have the time, Daphne.”

“And why’s that?”

“Well, there’s my work…”

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I’m an exotic dancer…”

“A what?”

“You know. I take my clothes off for strange men.”

“I’ve seen her. She’sreally very good…” Luhrman added in his monotone, and she broke the reverie there.

She snorted to herself, as she idly wondered what Luhrman was up to at the moment. “Right, Daria. Just what you need to keep your head clear right now,” she scolded herself. “First, you have Jeffy sniffing around, and now this Mike guy, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think that Trent may just be more than a little interested than before. Hell, I’m turning into Quinn more by the day! Maybe O’Neill’s camp wasn’t such a bad idea after all…”

Her silent contemplation ended as she parked her truck in the driveway. Noticing with relief that both her parents’ vehicles were gone, she shouldered the heavy bag and padded inside, still barefoot. Quinn was seated at the kitchen table, several books open, and a good-sized pile of papers in front of her.

Looking up, she snapped, “Well! It’s about time! I was sure you were going to do another disappearing act again. What’s that?”

Daria shifted the duffel bag contained the dancewear and shoes behind her protectively. “Nothing. Look, let me get rid of this crap, and I’ll be right down, okay? Five minutes, Quinn.”

“Okay, but you better not try to screw me over this time! I only have a week to get him ready for this portion of the pre-test, and I haven’t been able to get that moron to even remember to bring his books, let alone cover ANY of this stuff!” Quinn replied, with more than a touch of desperation in her voice.

For once, Daria felt true compassion towards her little sister. “Okay. I’ll hurry up. Don’t worry, if it can be done, I’ll help you figure out a way to do it.” She turned to go upstairs, and one of the platform shoes chose that moment to wriggle free from the confines of the open bag and fall to the floor. Before she could snatch it up, Quinn had it in her hand, a confused look on her face.

“Dar-eee-yah! What are you doing with…wait a minute, this isn’t one of my…Daria! Are you trying to be? Oh. My. Gaaaaaawd…” she sat there, holding the shoe, with a shocked look on her face. Snatching it away, Daria snarled,

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s wrong, dammit! This is…uhhhh. I’ll explain later. Five minutes, Quinn.” She stammered, for once not ready with a quick reply.

Quinn watched her sister dash away, blushing. “This is getting weirder and weirder by the day!” she mumbled, her mind spinning as to just what in the world would her brainy sister be doing with a pair of six-inch platform shoes like a stripper would wear.

“Like a stripper would…No way! Not in a million years! I HAVE been spending too much time with these books! It’s rotting my mind!” she exclaimed incredulously. When Daria returned, she was still in that same pose, a dumbstruck look on her face.

“Hello? Earth to Quinn, time to wake up before you start to drool. Let me see what you got already, okay?”

“Huh? Oh! Okay, Daria. It’s just that…never mind. Like you said, later. Here! This is as much as I can figure out for what to do without actually doing this crap for him! I’ve just been trying to make up some simple little multiple choice tests just like the ones he’ll be taking next week. What do you think?” Quinn asked, her eyes drifting back to Daria’s duffel bag.

Taking the hand-written form from her sisters’ hand, Daria looked it over, nodding occasionally, before putting it down and taking a pencil to it. “Surprisingly enough, it looks damn good. You covered the main points, gave at least one dead-on answer for each one, as well as a total turkey so he can’t luck out with blind picks, and there’s enough here to cover most of the last year. Only a couple spelling errors to fix, not that he’d notice, and you can type it up as is. I would run it by DeMartino first, though.” Daria said approvingly. Seeing Quinn peeking at her bag, she sighed. “Okay. I might as well let you look, seeing as you’ve already seen too much. I’m warning you though, a peep to Mom, and you’ll be fitting inside that bag as it’s on its way to the bottom of a lake somewhere.”

In a flash, Quinn knelt to the satchel, pulling out the items within. “Ewwwww, Daria! Don’t you know this stuff is just plain…tacky? It’s the kind of stuff someone would wear if they were going to…No way! This is some kind of trick, right?”

Daria gave her a reserved look, saying nothing, and Quinn put a few clues together in her head. “But you said you were only…And you needed Jeffy to fix your truck…And you spent the night out….Oh my God! Mom would like totally freak if she found out! Daria! What were you thinking? I mean, come on, I could probably pull off something like…”

“I said not a word, dammit!” Daria snapped, getting up. “Look, I had a little financial problem, and I decided to utilize some of the other attributes I got when I was born. Just because I haven’t spent most of my life obsessed with fashion and appearance doesn’t mean that I’m ugly, is it? Aren’t you the one who’s always bugging me for a makeover? Why do you think that is, huh?”

Quinn sat back, stunned at her sister’s outburst. “Uh, well, I suppose it could be that you aren’t, I guess. Daria! This is just like when you decided to get those contacts! I can help you now, as much as you can help me! You help figure out the rest of the crap I have to teach the lunkhead, and I’ll help you get yourself looking good in these…things,” she said, rapidly brightening, as the wheels in her head began to turn. Daria recoiled at that.

“I’m not sure I want to do that. Besides, I have that woman from work helping me get set up for this. It’s only until I make enough to pay my tr…never mind what it’s for. Look, if I accepted your help, I’d just be contributing to the delinquency of a minor, and I can’t have that on my conscience as well now, can I?” Daria replied, taking the slinky little outfit Quinn had in her hand and jamming it back into the bag.

Quinn snatched it back. “Look, you said it yourself a minute ago, I’ve spent most of my life doing this, while you’ve spent yours in a book. First of all, you DON’T treat items like this the way you are now. Let me give you some hangars and a garment bag, and I’ll show you how to keep them looking like you just bought them. Helps if you plan on taking them back, which in this case, I do hope you are!” she added, examining the garment again.

Daria groaned. “Fine! If you want to be my valet, or chambermaid, that’s okay with me, just as long as we have an agreement that it goes no farther than this room.”

“Agreed!” Quinn said, as she began to pull out the various items from the bag, eyes glittering, as she laid them out carefully on the bed. “Mmmm! I like this one! It’s definitely you, Daria!” she said, holding up the corset-dress that she had worn to the club.

“Thanks. Oddly enough, I did like it when I saw it, which shocks, stuns and saddens me at the same time. It hurts like hell if I move wrong, though. Can you fix that?”

Quinn held it up, and frowned professionally. “Hmmm. Maybe, but I’d have to see you in it first. If it isn’t fitted properly, the little edges inside can annoy you, but I should be able to make ‘em better. Dare I ask who talked you into this?”

“No, but since you’ll press me for it anyway, it was some low-class car thief who stripped the truck of some vital stuff. Don’t say anything, but my boss had it fixed for me, and now all I have to do is pay him back. What?” Daria demanded, noticing Quinn’s odd look.

“Nothing! It just seems…odd that you…decided to repay your boss this way…” Quinn replied carefully, trying to ignore the smoldering gaze of her sister. “Not that there’s anything wrong with what you’re…doing…” Daria finished the statement for her.

“But I’d never think you would do something like this, you’re trying to say?”

“No! I just…Oh, hell, Daria! I’m all mixed up about this whole thing! Why did I ever think I could teach Kevin? Why do you think you can be a…whatever you’re planning to be? Why didn’t Mom give us a bribe to forget about this!” Quinn wailed, tossing one of the books away. “This getting older crap is for the birds, you know?”

“Tell me about it. It seems just yesterday I was tormenting you about the unfashionable monsters living under your bed…in last year’s outfits. Oh, wait, that WAS yesterday, wasn’t it?” Daria deadpanned, with just the hint of a smirk. Quinn was taking a deep breath to yell for their mother when she got it. “Ha ha, Daria. Very funny, keep your day job. Thanks though, it has been too weird around here lately, and I even miss you picking on me. Sometimes…” she warned, with her own subdued smirk. Daria said nothing but pulled out the rest of the bag’s contents, shaking her head in amusement.

“Mmmm, yes, yes, nooooo! This is …unsusual, but yes. Okay! When do you want to model this stuff for me so I can get the measurements for the modifications, Daria? Before or after the brain stuff?” Quinn bubbled, removing the items and placing them into separate piles. “The shoes we’ll discuss later, but this pile you should be able to keep as-is, cause it’s stretchy-stretchy, always a good choice when you have to get physical, this is garbage you need to take back, and this will need to be modified for your body shape. I can get Stacy to help me fix it for you when she comes by later!”

“Wow, I didn’t know you could do that on your own, Quinn. I always though you just bought more when they didn’t fit,” Daria said, with a not of surprise. “I’ll say afterwards, because the last thing I want to do right now is squeeze into any of that crap. Let me grab my notes from freshman history, and we can tailor a few short quizzes for your current headache. As for the English, I’ll say we can just copy a couple first and second grade primers for him and hope for the best.”

“Kevin is able t read a little better than I thought he would, you know?” Quinn said thoughtfully. “For instance, I copied a bunch of terms from the sports section the other day, and he got them right the first time, so it’s not totally hopeless, Daria. Oh! And Mr. DeMartino mailed me a sample test to give him before he has to take his first test next week! Here, what do you think?” She handed her a sheaf of papers stapled together. Daria reviewed them critically, frowning slightly as she flipped the pages,

“I’m not sure a real tutor could get Kevin past all this in two weeks. Hell, I know I couldn’t get any of this down his throat in three months. Maybe I should have a little talk with him…” Quinn shook her head, resolutely. “No way! I know I talked you into helping me, but if there’s anything wrong, I need to talk with him about it. Besides, he’ll just try to get you to take over, anyway. Please, Daria?”

Secretly surprised and pleased at her sister’s resolve,she nodded, adding, “Okay, I’ll just show you where I think he’ll have problems and let you describe it to him in your own words, okay? I’ll be right back with those notes.” As she turned to leave, Quinn asked teasingly,

“You’re not seriously going to that, are you Daria? I just see you chickening out at the last minute, you know?”

“And I you. Honestly, I doubt I can either work up the courage or sink so low to actually step onto a stage in any of that crap on, much less removing it in front of drunken men, and even if I did, I’d probably stand there a like a deer in the headlights until someone dragged me offstage. And we both know that sooner or later Mom would find out, and we’d have to worry about Dad’s second heart attack,” she replied in an even tone. “I’m hoping that you might really have become enough of a brain to figure out its in both our interest if this revelation remains our little secret, right?” Quinn made a face, but nodded, pouting as she said,

“Dammit, Daria! Like my friends would even believe you were even, like thinking about becoming an exotic dancer!” she mock-snorted. “Do what you will, but if you have to keep any of that crap, keep that pile, okay?” Rolling her eyes, Daria nodded.

“Why am I not surprised. Okay, you got a deal, but I actually do want to keep something, at least as a souvenir or to use as blackmail. Whatever. I keep those, too. They’ll do well should I ever need to fake being a Goth in the near future.” She indicated the boots, and walked out.

A few hours later, Quinn hit the ‘print’ button on Daria’s computer and the quizzes and test they had crafted based on the material given and the fact he was a functional idiot on his best day. “Now, you let him do these with his book, so you can get him used to using these other than a doorstop. This test is about as basic you can get and still qualify as legitimate practice, so he may be able to get an almost honest C on the real one.” Daria explained, handing her the papers. Quinn nodded, smirking.

“And that little secret of yours gave me an idea for keeping his attention focused on getting over here to study.”

“Totally counterproductive, Quinn. He won’t be thinking about anything except you, a back seat and a six-pack. You’d need a cattle prod to keep him in line.” Daria warned. “Seriously, Quinn, you still have an uphill battle with him as it is.”

“Like he’ll be able to! I’m going to use that carrot and donkey thingie, give him a little peek and then make him work for it, right? If he wants to see the package, he has to show me the money, which in this case isn’t like real money ir anything like that! As if! But like, make him do the work. That isn’t bad, right?” Quinn replied sweetly. Daria exhaled, the mental image of what would happen if Mom walked in. “And Quinn would crack like a rotten egg in about twenty seconds about where she got this and my possible entry into the world of show biz.”

“No, Quinn, that wouldn’t be bad, that’d be reeeeeal bad. You know Mom watches you like a hawk when ho does decide to come over, right? I don’t have to be here to know that. How are you going to pull that one off, no pun intended?” Daria hissed, suddenly nervous of a lurking mother. Quinn grinned wickedly. “Oh, I have my ways, Daria, trust me, I have my ways.”

“I had to ask. I can’t stop you, but if and when you do get caught, try to keep her from burning anything, okay? I still have to pay for that crap, remember?”

“Not a problem. Well, I’m going to the mall, finally! Maybe I’ll pick something up for you, hmmmm?” Quinn teased. Daria groaned. “God no! It’s bad enough that I have that crap as it is, but anything else would be overkill. Besides, I have to stop before it’s too late and I actually have to. I figure I’ll wait until Dad is asleep on the couch and gently reveal to Mom what happened with the truck. I’m pretty sure I can handle the lecture, but I’m pretty sure she’ll cave in. And, I’ll make sure I “figure” in the price of those things you liked. Consider it hush money, but not like real money.”

“Deal.” Quinn replied. “ Now I’ve got to get ready before Stacy gets here, okay? I haven’t been to the mall in, gawd, days! I need to recharge my batteries, no pun intended,” she winked as her sister groaned. “Maybe later I can critique how you look, just for the heck of it, okay?”

“Yeah, and right after that you two can give me a makeover and a new hair-do, too. I’m taking the rest of the day off, Quinn. I need some serious inner-eyelid inspection if I’m going to keep from losing it totally. Later.” Daria concluded, flopping down on her bed like a rag doll. Quinn went to the door and was about to respond with a wisecrack when she saw that Daria was almost asleep by then.

“Okay, Daria! We’ll do that as soon as we get back!” she whispered, suppressing a giggle as she closed the door behind her.

Chapter 22

Sandi waited impatiently at the traffic light on her way to the mall. Ever since she’d gotten her license for real, little would make her consent to walking anymore. The Vexxer was a pre-graduation gift from her mother, more as an incentive to keep a minimum than any real motivation to excel, but she didn’t care. All she was concerned with was making sure her wardrobe would agree with the car for the next year. “It’s like, so unfair that I have to wait like some common person!” she fumed, as the light finally changed. She showed her displeasure at the inconvenience by scrubbing her tires loudly as she mashed the accelerator to the floor. As she did, she failed to notice the Lawndale Police car on the cross street, with the two female cops inside. Seeing her display, the larger one grinned to her partner.

“One down on the quota! Hit the lights, Thelma!” she chortled, as she swung out after the sports car. Her partner groaned, weary of the constant Thelam and Loise references she was subjected to. “Yeah, yeah, sure thing, ‘Louise’. I’m calling it in,” she replied blandly as the cruiser accelerated smoothly into position behind the Vexxer.

Sandi cursed at the rear-view mirror. “Oh puh-lease! Not again!” she snarled, reluctantly guiding her car to the shoulder. She sat there with a petulant look on her face as the two female officers exited their car and approached her car. “Great! Like, how am I supposed to get out of a ticket by showing my boobs if these two keep pulling me over!” she thought sourly, recognizing them as soon as they got out of the car.

“Well, hello Miss Griffin!” the heavy-set lady cop cooed sweetly. “And just what is the emergency this time? Late for a hair appointment or did you break a nail again? Ooooh wait! I know! There must be another sale at Cashman’s, right? Well?”

Sandi sneered back at her. “As if! Excuse me, officer, but I merely forgot what the speed limit is on this road.” The two cops exchanged glances over the roof of the sports car, and the smaller woman scowled as she made a savage had gesture. Her partner smiled sweetly as she leaned back down and said,

“Step out of the car, Miss Griffin. I believe we need to have a little talk with you about your attitude when you’re speaking to a law enforcement officer, you understand?” Sandi’s mouth dropped as the woman opened the door and stood back a step.

“Excuse me? I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time where my mother works, and just how you and your department will look after a story like this runs! I have a very important appointment…elsewhere, and I have no time for these…games!” she replied haughtily. The husky woman seized her by the wrist and firmly, but gently pulled her out of the car before Sandi could even squawk a protest. Shocked at the speed and efficiency with which she’d been removed from her chariot, she didn’t do more than gasp until after she felt the cuffs snap around her wrists.

“What the? How dare you do this to me! If you don’t get these things off of me this instant, you won’t be working in this town again! Help! Like, help! Rodney King! Rodney King!” she exclaimed in protest as the woman pulled her away from the Vexxer and sat her down on the sidewalk.

“Stay right there, Miss Griffin. You’re being placed under arrest for reckless driving, failure to heed the command of a police officer, and making a terroristic threat. Two of those are felonies, so unless you want to compare prison blues with lockup orange, I recommend you exercise yur right to remain silent.” The woman said evenly, hands on her hips as her partner talked on her walkie-talkie. Sandi’s face reddened, and she looked around to see if anyone was watching. To her abject horror, she saw Charles Ruttheimer across the street, with his camera around his neck, and what appeared to be a khaki vest and boxy shoulder bag. In that instant, their eyes met, and he grinned maniacally as he raised his camera and started shooting.

“Oh no! Noooooooo!” she whined, trying to turn away from him. The woman reacted as if Sandi were trying to escape, and the girl found nearly one hundred and eighty pounds of Xena-worshipping female police officer atop her. “I figured you’d freak out if we did this! Lana! Get the ankle retraints, she’s gonna be a fighter!” The smaller officer dashed to the car and produced a short length of rope and a little belt, wrestling Sandi’s ankles together before snapping the link to the cuff-chain.

Across the street, Charles was almost about to faint. “Thank you God! One of my dearest desires, played out not just in front of me, but in public, and good daylight. I have my camera and film, and I even remembered to take off the lens cap! I should buy a lottery ticket, too!” he exulted, exhausting the film in one camera, before pulling another from the bag, and snapping on a telephoto lens. He focused in tight on Sandi’s face, and he almost felt a pang of pity when he saw the look of fear on her face as the female cops trussed her up and plopped her in the rear seat of their car. He ducked away when they scanned the street, not wanting them to recognize him from the parade, scuttling away at high speed to his home lab.

As Ruttheimer made good his escape, the two lady cops were high-fiving each other as Sandi lay sobbing and cursing facedown in their back seat. Neither was aware as the Vexxer, still in gear, slowly began to idle away as they wrestled with Sandi. A small boy interrupted their celebration.

“’Scuse me, ma’ams? Do you know that that lady’s car is rolling away?” he asked, in a snotty tone. They whirled just in time to see it go through the intersection ahead, narrowly being missed by a truck.

“Oh SHIT!!!!” they exclaimed in unison. The big one sprinted after the vehicle as her partner stood there stunned. She looked back and forth from her partner charging down the street on foot and the cruiser. “What am I doing?” she exclaimed as she dashed to the car. Sandi looked up, teary-eyed and angry. “Likem now what? Why were you two yelling? What’s…OOF!” she grunted as the cop threw the car in gear. Sandi felt the car slow down, and the big one hop in, yelling,

“Go! Some guy seen it rolling, and hopped in it! I though he was gonna pull it over but her took off! Dammit! Move! Move! Move!”

Sandi looked up at the backs of their heads as she felt the car accelerate again. “What was rolling? And what’s this about some guy hopping in and taking off? I hope you’re not talking about my brand-new Vexxer convertible, are you?” she demanded as the car lurched drunkenly around a corner. The big one turned for a moment to snarl,

“Keep quiet! I’ll explain later, dammit!” in an angry voice. At that moment, the car hit a large bump and went airborne for a moment, coming down hard. Sandi felt herself floating before being slammed down hard on the seat with a grunt. “Owwww! Watch it! What the hell is going on? Stop it this instant!” she wailed, as they powered down the street. A minute later, the two cops pulled over after losing sight of the high-performance automobile and exchanged nauseated glances. By this time, Sandi had received enough abuse from her position that she merely moaned pitifully from the back seat. “Shit! How the hell are we gonna explain this one?” the smaller woman whined to her partner. The large one shrugged.

“Beats the hell out of me! If anything, we’ll just add it on to the charges on the princess back there. ‘Failure to maintain proper control of a motor vehicle’ sounds like a doable charge, whattayou think, Griffin?” she snorted derisively. From the back seat, Sandi moaned, “I am so gonna get you two…” as they drove on to the stationhouse. Meanwhile, Stacy had picked up Quinn in front of her house and the two girls were on their way to the mall themselves.

“So, Quinn, how is the tutoring thingie going?” she asked, after exchanging the usual pleasantries. “Unless, uh, it isn’t, then I never asked you, okay?” she added quickly. Quinn rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Stace, chill out! Yeah, Kevin’s being a big pain, but I think I know how to get through that thick head of his! Now, I don’t want to think about him, books, or school until after I get home! Now let’s go shopping!” she tittered, and Stacy smiled.

“Gee Quinn! It’s good that things are almost back to normal again! Oh, before we get there, do you think we can avoid going near the store?” she asked. Quinn frowned slightly.

“Why? I actually was thinking of looking around there anyway! I always wanted to know just what makes a computer ‘cuter’, anyway. My little laptop isn’t very good at doing all that schoolwork type of stuff and I was hoping you might be able to get me a deal, if you know what I mean?” Quinn replied.

Stacy gulped. “Uh, Quinn? I kinda…lost my job the other day. That’s why I want to stay away from the store for a while.”

“What happened? I thought you liked that job?” Quinn demanded. Stacy blushed and grumbled, “I did. It was Sandi coming in and bothering me about you that made my manager let me go. I tried to get her to stop but she was like, her usual lizardy self. Maybe I can find something else, depending on if she can stop bothering me.”

Quinn shook her head. “I’m just going to have to…Stacy! Look out!” she screamed, as the Vexxer roared through the intersection ahead of them. The teen stood on her brakes, and the little car spun hard before coming to rest on someone’s lawn. “Omigawd! Stacy! Are you all right?” Quinn cried, uncovering her eyes. “Isn’t that Sandi’s new car?” she pointed at the vehicle receding into the distance. Stacy narrowed her eyes to little slits.

“I do believe it was. Hold on,”she said resolutely, throwing her little car into gear. Quinn’s eyes widened. “Stacy? What are you doing? Shouldn’t we like call the police or something?” she asked, hearing sirens in the distance. “You can’t be serious about chasing her, Stacy! That’s a Vexxer 2000, and all you have is this crappy little hatchback. Oops! Sorry!” she backpedaled. The other girl ignored her as she floored it, throwing Quinn back into her seat.

“She might have a hot car, but she owes me, dammit! So sit down, shut up, and hold on, Quinn. Let me show you what a ‘crappy hatchback’ can do next to an idiot in a sports car!” she snarled, as her tiny engine howled in protest. To Quinn’s terrified surprise, Stacy proved highly adept at weaving her tiny car through traffic at high speeds, and soon she saw the rear of Sandi’s car ahead.

The opportunistic car thief, a long-haired greasy looking fellow with a ponytail and dangly earring, had eased off as soon as he was out of the business district, and was heading for the seedier side of Lawndale, thinking about how much the chop shop would give him for his lucky find. “And right under the cops noses, too!” he exclaimed giddily. He didn’t notice the little hatchback closing in on him and pulling alongside.

Quinn opened her eyes again just as they pulled even and looked over. “That’s not Sandi!” she yelled, and Stacy looked over and scowled. “Dammit! But that IS her car, isn’t it?” she barked.

“Yeah! I’d recognize that scrunchie hanging from her rear-view mirror anywhere! He must’ve stolen it! Now what do we do, Stacy? Stop the car!” Quinn cried out. Stacy grinned evilly.

“Stop the car? That’s a good idea, Quinn. Hold on!” she said sweetly, as she gracefully clipped the rear quarter panel of the expensive car, catching the thief completely unaware. She stood on her brakes as the stolen car spun out of control into a familiar parking lot.

“Say, isn’t that where my sister works?” Quinn asked, as the car plunged into the building with a tremendous din of tearing metal, shattering glass, culminating with the mournful clatter of a burglar alarm. Shaken and stunned, the car thief stumbled from the gaping hole the car made just before the ruptured gas tank erupted in a glorious fireball fully six stories high.

“Oh wow!” Stacy muttered as she gripped her steering wheel tightly. “I don’t think Sandi’s gonna like that one bit, is she, Quinn?”

Still gripping the dashboard with a white-knuckled grip, Quinn gasped out. “N-no, I don’t think so! Stacy, we’ve got to get out of here! Oh my gawd, the whole building;s on fire! Floor it Stacy, before someone sees us here!” Her plea shook the other girl out of her lethargy, and she threw the car into reverse, accelerating backwards before flipping the wheel and reversing direction and throwing it into forward. As the carnage receded behind them and sirens began to wail, Quinn looked over at her friend screaming,

“Stacy! Where did you learn to drive like that! We could have been killed! What were you thinking?” she demanded. Stacy remained silent until she pulled up in front of Quinn’s house and they hurried inside, slamming the door behind them. “In my room, quick!” Quinn said as they dashed up the stairs. It wasn’t until they were both safely beneath Quinn’s bed that they spoke again.

“You know, this isn’t exactly going to help much, Stacy. If they wanted to, they can just come up here and get us, you know.” Quinn remarked.

“I know, but it feels safer. I don’t believe I just did that. How do you suppose that guy got Sandi’s car, Quinn? What if it wasn’t Sandi’s car? Ohmigawd, what if I…” she trailed off as she broke into tears. Quinn patted her on the shoulder as best she could beneath the bed.

“I’m sure it was her car, and I saw the guy get out before the building blew up. Oh no! That was where Daria worked! Now she’s out of work, too! Oh boy, Stacy, we’re in trouble now!” Both girls screamed when there was a knock on the door. Daria called out in a tired and exasperated voice as she pushed the door open.

“What in God’s name are you two doing under the bed, and why did you park on the front lawn, Stacy?”

“NOTHING!!!” they both cried out from beneath the bed. Daria stumbled to the window and peered at the car. “Hmmm, let’s see. There’s massive front-end damage to Stacy’s car, both of you are hiding underneath your bed, and it sounds like everything with a siren is going off all over town, and is that a column of smoke on the horizon? This I gotta hear.”

Sheepishly, the two girls crept from beneath the bed and looked out the window. “Sandi is going to be SO pissed when she finds out what happened to her car…” Quinn muttered, as a fireball erupted within the column of black smoke in the distance. Daria ran her fingers through her hair as she asked, “So, should I call Mom now, or are you two going to take your chances with a public defender? I understand that they just got a new shipment of orange jumpsuits at the county jail, so you two won’t need to bother with getting those faded and worn ones. Now tell me what happened before they come and haul you two away.”

Quinn and Stacy looked at each other nervously, before Quinn responded, “Well, it happened this way…” She talked for fifteen minutes straight, hesitating when she reached the part about the destruction of the Talent Agency as Daria stood there impassively, shaking her head sadly.

“Damn. Well, I guess this solves part of my problem, although even I wouldn’t have thought of doing it quite this way. Well, whether or not you want me to, I do believe I have to call Mom, if you two are going to have any chance of graduating from a high school without bars. Oh, wait, I suppose there wouldn’t be much of a difference, is there? Jane is not gonna believe this…” she muttered as she turned to leave. Quinn exclaimed,

“Daria, wait! If you tell Mom about this, I’m telling her you’re a stripper!”

“She is? Wow, I didn’t know that!” Stacy sniffed, still tearing up. Daria groaned as she turned back to face her little sister down.

“Quinn, right now, I could care less about that, especially since I don’t plan on carrying this out anymore. As much as it would be entertaining to have you experience the criminal justice system, it would be a major distraction to my college plans. As we already discussed, sooner or later Mom will find out, and considering the sudden turn of events, it looks like sooner. Right now, let’s just focus on keeping you two out of jail, okay?” Before she could add anymore, the sound of a car door slamming startled them all. Quinn and Stacy shrieked and disappeared beneath the bed again, leaving Daria standing alone.

“Hello? Girls? Say, did you know that someone’s parked their car on our front lawn?” she heard her father call upstairs. “Stacy? Give me your keys so I can get your damn car off our lawn before Dad suspects something,” Daria said calmly. A hand emerged from beneath the bed with a troll keychain. “Thanks”

Jake was standing at the front door, a cross look on his face as Daria came downstairs. “Can you believe the nerve of some people? Who just leaves their car on someone’s lawn? Huh?” he demanded.

“Yeah, dad, it’s almost like they abandoned it fleeing from a crime or something. Here, I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you go and relax with your paper, okay?”

“Hey, kiddo! That’s a great idea! But…how do you have the keys to that car? It isn’t someone you know, is it?” he asked, as the little light flickered over his head.

“No Dad, I’m just practicing my auto theft skills I learned back in Highland. No, it’s Stacy’s car. She was a little distracted when she was parking. I’ll take care of it, Dad.”

“Great! Say, can you believe what’s happening on the other side of town? Look at that smoke! Hey! Why don’t we all go over and check it out?” he babbled happily. Daria shook her head.

“Isn’t that more Mom’s line of work?” she replied. “Thanks, but no thanks, the last time there was a fire I almost lost a friend, and you wouldn’t want me to start having nightmares, do you?”

“No!” Jake said, nervously. “I was just, uhhh….never mind, kiddo. We can pass on this one, I suppose,” he said, regaining his composure as Daria hopped in Stacy’s car and backed it off the lawn and down the street a ways.

Jake had decamped to the bar already, giving her the chance to slip back upstairs unnoticed. “Stacy, here. It’s on the street, but you’re gonna need to get that front end taken care of soon, before someone puts two and two together with the chaos going on downtown,” she said, tossing the keychain on the floor, where a hand darted out and grabbed it.

“Thanks,” came a teary voice, and Quinn added, “I could always call Jeffy, unless Daria is still using him.”

“Whatever. Now both of you get your asses out from beneath there and snap out of it. First, the cops here are hopelessly incompetent, and two, if they were going to get you, they’d already have done so by now,” she pointed out.

The two girls awkwardly got out from beneath the bed, brushing off dust bunnies with muttered sounds of dismay. “You’re right, I guess,” Quinn muttered. “I’ll call Jeffy now, so we can at least get Stacy’s car hidden somewhere…” she said, picking up her cell phone.

“First intelligent thing you’ve said since barreling in here, now,” she said, turning to leave. “Then, call Mom and tell her everything, repeat everything that just happened, and do exactly as she says, got it? Good…” she said, returning to her room and locking the door. She unzipped her duffel bag and dumped the contents out on the floor.

“You guys were sort a fun, but methinks we’ll be parting ways soon enough…” she thought, kicking off her boots and laying down. Weariness was overcoming her quickly, and within minutes, she was snoring softly when Quinn came into her room.

“Daria? Daria? Wake up, it’s that woman on the phone for you. Daria!” she snapped, earning herself a nasty look as her sister’s eyes flew open.

“Jesus, give it to me…Hello?” she said, annoyed. Bubble’s voice was lacking it’s normal brainless enthusiasm as she replied,

“Dar, you have to come to the office right away! There’s been a terrible disaster, and I need your help! The office is on fire!” she exclaimed, distress in her voice. For a moment, she considered telling Bubbles off, but the woman seemed genuinely upset.

“Okay, but you have to give me some time. I’m totally wiped out, and I just got home, okay?” she sighed, before hanging up.

Quinn was still standing there, waiting for the phone. “Well, Quinn, thanks to you two, my job isn’t quite done with yet,” she sighed, reaching down for her boots and realizing a good portion of her dance outfits were still scattered about, and Quinn was looking at them, open-mouthed.

“Need I remind you of our deal, sis? Gimme a hand stuffing this trash in my closet until I can get ‘em fixed up to return, okay?” she sighed again.

“Daria, no! Some of this is pretty good stuff! Tell you what, I’ll take care of them for you, okay? You just go and take care of your business, okay?” she replied sweetly. Daria sighed, knowing precisely what Quinn wanted to do with them.

“Okay, have fun, but remember, I have to return those damn things, so please don’t ‘modify’ them any, okay? And don’t let dad see you in those, either,” she said, wearily clomping out of the room, throwing her pack over her shoulder.