A/N: Well, it's been a while since I've published. 5 years in fact. Anyway, if you like this and you're searching for more Daria stuff, don't bother clicking my name. This is my first one. And it will most likely be my last.
Anyway, this is basically how I would imagine Daria and Jane getting together. I know I posted it in the romance section, but just exactly how do romantic do you realistically think these two can get? It's about as romantic as my left foot. But, there is relationshippy stuff, so that's why it's here.
Disclaimer: Dear MTV, when you release Daria on DVD in Australia (region 4), then I will disclaim any rights to any characters and etc, you jerks. It's been 8 years since the show ended. Get your arses into gear.
Enjoy
Daria,
I was never very good at writing. You know that. I'm the artist. You're the writer. I'm a pretty lousy speaker too. When it comes to wit, I'm all over it. Anything else, arguments aside, and I then to keep my thoughts to myself. That is, if I even have any.
So this disjointed little bundle of words is the age old excuse. Can't say it, can't face you for it. So I'm writing it. Who knows, maybe I won't even give this to you, and it'll stay locked in the bottom of my pen drawer for all eternity.
If you're wondering how I'm managing to write so much without a cramp, it's because I'm writing it in bits. As things surface in my head, I'm writing them down. So I'm sorry if this ends up several pages long, or doesn't make any sense. At least this way you'll know how long it's taken just to get this to you.
I like to think of myself as someone that doesn't really have a label. Not because I'm afraid of being attracted to a man or a woman. But because I'm not really attracted to anyone. I've always felt that way. At some points in my life I've tried hard to change that. And not because I want to really be attached to anyone, but because sometimes I think it might make things easier. All I've learnt is that it just makes things more difficult.
So I'm not gay. But I'm not straight either. I prefer to just think of myself as Jane. And I'm trying very hard not to make my name into a neon sign. This is a letter after all. I hear you don't make those things into works of art.
Anyway. I guess initially I tried because I figured one day I would be alone. For some reason I thought you would eventually want to settle down and have a family. Leave me to live my own life. You're probably sitting there giving me that smirk right now.
I almost thought I was right when Tom happened. But, thankfully, logic prevailed.
So now I know you and I are going to be crazy old cat ladies some day. Sitting on the front porch in our rocking chairs, shouting insults at passers by.
My feelings have always been pretty vague. Fairly dormant. I'm very indifferent to most things where everyone else seems to have stronger feelings than opinions.
Conveniently, having dull feelings tends to mean I don't get upset or emotional about not having any to begin with.
But something happened a few years back. And I don't mean I was hit full force with life's emotional rollercoaster like every other teenager out there. I mean something new came along. Just a small and happy feeling. It didn't control me. I didn't become obsessed by it. But it was noticeable. And it never really went away. In fact, I kinda like having it around.
It's taken me a while to figure out how to broach the subject. But I figure I should be honest.
The truth is that feeling is love. It's not all dominating but its there and that's enough for me.
The feeling arrived not long after you did. So apparently I'm in love with you. But it's also enough for me that we're friends.
I'm probably not going to stop feeling this way, and it doesn't give me unbearable urges to get into your pants. Small urges are there, but I'm comfortable with it.
So that's that. Its taken me a couple of months to get this all down and legible. And if you're reading this, either I've made an effort and given it to you or I've hidden it pretty badly. But you know me, I don't over think and stress things too much. So it really could be either.
Just do me a favour. If you can't bear the thought of us together, a "Thanks, but..." will do me just fine before we pretend I never said anything.
Jane
Daria looked down at the letter in her hands, contemplating what she'd just read. She let it start to sink in as she noticed just how worn the pages in her hands were.
They were slightly crumpled from being shifted around a lot, and there were vague creases down the edges. Daria knew it had seen a lot of time in someone's hands, being read over and over again.
She gave a half smile and realised Jane had agonised over something, and for a long time it seemed. It was a rarity, and she just had to rub it in, no matter how dull-feeling Jane professed to being.
She stood from her spot on the floor where she had been looking for a new pen. Jane had directed Daria to her pen drawer as they kicked back in Jane's room. THe artist was painting and the writer, writing. Until her pen had run out of ink, which led her here.
Daria had always felt strongly towards Jane. But, like her, was fairly minimalist towards everything in life, and that included her feelings. She almost felt amused that something like this would happen between herself and Jane, but knew better. Despite what she'd said in the letter, Jane was a bit of a sex fiend. Daria knew though that Jane was a very resourceful woman, and was quite adept at taking care of herself. A few too many badly timed phone calls and Jane's history of not caring what anyone thought of her, Daria included, assured her of that knowledge.
Daria shook her head, 'Stop thinking about her doing that.' she thought before walking back to Jane's room, the letter stowed safely in the inside pocket of her green jacket.
"Welcome back. Though I'd lost you for a minute there." Jane smirked as Daria entered the room. She produced the letter and held it up for Jane to see.
"You had me at 'Hello'" she quoted monotonously. Jane raised an eyebrow before casting Daria a curious look.
She froze momentarily when she recognised what the auburn-haired girl was holding in her hand.
"Ah, the pen drawer. Should have realised that if you'd ever needed to borrow any of my supplies, it would be a pen." Jane murmured, bemused. Daria said nothing, instead opting to sit back down on Jane's bed. "So, d'you think I've got what it takes?" Jane asked, going back to her painting.
"For what?" Daria asked, still holding onto the letter. She gazed at it, not really paying any attention to it.
"To be a writer." Jane smirked, adding a few brush strokes to her canvas. The whole thing seemingly unfazed her. It was like water off a duck's back.
"You're not a bad talker. And that's what this is. But it misses the meaning of your words your voice would usually give it. I tend to fill it in pretty well though, knowing you. But your writing, the...well the font, I guess, is really quite artistic." Daria droned on, seeing how far she could take the blind siding of the subject matter.
"Do I have to sit here and wait for you to answer my question properly or are you going to make me say it?"
"Toughen up Lane and ask me already." Daria smirked.
"Way to make me squirm." Jane rolled her eyes, setting down her paint brush.
"Lucky you don't suffer from overpowering emotions like embarrassment and fear, huh?" Daria provoked.
"I hate you." Jane replied simply before crossing her drop-sheet covered floor and sitting on the bed next to her best friend.
The raven haired misfit wiped her hands and forearms on a rag before tossing it aside.
"Alright Morgendorffer. I'm in love with you. As pathetic as my limp-wristed feelings may be, and as pathetic as me actually loving someone may be. Happy now?" Jane asked, still able to say such a thing without any corresponding emotion.
"How do I know you're not saying this just so you can fuck me?" Daria asked in reply, with even less obvious emotion.
Jane raised her eyebrows at the word and smirked again, "Daria, where did you get that potty-mouth?" her voice betrayed her surprise with mirth and approval.
"Traded my last shred of humanity for it." Daria replied quickly.
"I wish I'd gone to that yard sale." Jane remarked, but had no response from the other girl. "Ball's still in your court, you know. Unless you think I genuinely only want you for your body."
Daria smirked back, "Don't worry, I know you still think I have no sex drive to speak of. So there's no chance you'd ditch our friendship for that."
"This is news." Jane raised an eyebrow, "I thought you adamantly denied ever having touched yourself due to complete lack of interest?"
"I find it rather interesting that you remember the deflection regarding my interest in sex almost word for word when you can never remember what you had for breakfast."
"I'm not awake when I eat breakfast. You know that."
"True. But how do you expect me to tell you I have in fact partaken in the apparent blind making activity when your next question would be, 'Who do you like to fantasise about?' closely followed by an in-depth, no-holds-barred discussion about your own habits?" Daria replied, giving Jane a knowing look.
"What's wrong with that?" Jane asked as though she were referring to a discussion about the weather.
"Just the part where I would be telling you I think about you. Which of course means you wouldn't get to the second part of your own discussion. But it would follow with my previous expectation of some retching, followed by a hasty and permanent escape." Daria explained. She looked at Jane in amusement.
"You're not just lying to me to get my hopes up, are you?" Jane asked, an eyebrow almost permanently raised.
"Come on. We both know you don't feel hope." Daria replied sardonically.
"True."
"So it's settled then. We both feel the same. Our pathetic form of love will keep us from ever being stupid enough to get us pregnant, enslaved or generally dragging our lives down with another person that won't ever be on the same wavelength." Daria decided, reclining back on the bed with her legs dangling off the edge, bent at the knees.
"Sounds good to me." Jane replied, a smidgeon of happiness shining through. She laid back as well, noticing that nothing had made their day as awkward as she had expected.
Daria caught her eye and received a warm look in return. She said nothing, opting to look for just a moment more. An almost perfect moment. But predictably, Jane couldn't stand to leave such a thing un-ruined.
"So, wanna fuck?"