The Long Shot, a daria fanfic

For my foray into the Daria fandom, I thought I'd start off with a (apparently) run-of-the-mill shipper fic, though hopefully you won't be bored throughout.

Takes place in early season 4. (Tom has just come into the picture...)

The Long Shot by LivingSacrifice22

Chapter One: In a Box

Daria walked up to her best friend Jane's house, warily noting the ominous black clouds in the sky. She reached her hand out to the front door, preparing to make her presence known, but, before she could even ball her fist, the door flung open, seemingly of its own accord.

"Jesus, Daria!" Jane exclaimed, though there was a playful sparkle in her eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing, hanging out in a storm like this?" She reached out and pulled her friend in, shutting the door. "Don't you have any common sense, girl?"

Daria, frowning, straightened out her jacket, mussed from her friend's dramatics. "I have a lot of sense. You're the one who told me that I just had to come over here--"

"And you did!"

"Okay." Daria nodded. Jane smiled. After a moment, Daria prompted. "Well...?"

"Well, what?"

"What the hell did you make me come over here for?" Daria supplied, emphasizing each word and growing even more agitated as she went on.

"Oh! That. Yeah, Trent's awake." Jane shrugged. Daria glared.

"That's reason enough to send me out? I told Mom that it was an emergency!"

"It is an emergency, Daria. Trent's writing a new song."

"So...?"

"So?! If I have to listen to Trent's banal musical angst anymore, I'm going to go insane! Plus, Jesse's with him, so it's, like, ten times worse."

Jane started to go up to her room, and Daria sighed, following her friend without a fight.

Once upstairs, the girls paused in front of Trent's room. He was lying on his bed, strumming his acoustic guitar. Jesse was sitting on the floor next to Trent's stereo, inspecting two guitar picks he held in front of him.

To Daria's shock (and annoyance), Jane entered the room. "Hey, guys."

Trent turned to the girls. "Hey, Janey. Hey, Daria."

Daria gave a half-nod hello. "Hey."

"What are you doing?" Jane asked, sitting next to Jesse.

"I'm trying to decide which pick to use." Jesse put them up to Jane's face, as if she couldn't see them any other way. "This one's hollow, good for diminished. But this one's a little thicker, so the sound is fuller." He paused and frowned. "Or is it the other way around? Trent? What do you think?"

"Hmmm," Trent said, continuously strumming and staring at the ceiling. "Maybe you should try a new pick, man. All you've been doing is complaining about those."

"Good point. But, like, where would I get new picks?"

"The guitar store, man. On Dega. Or maybe some other place. I dunno."

"Oh, yeah. Right."

"Trent and his specifics," Jane said, grinning at her friend, who was standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Would you like to sit down, Daria? I think there's room next to Trent on his bed."

Daria frowned at Jane, who just smiled sweetly in response.

Trent, still staring at the ceiling, motioned next to him. "Yeah, Daria. There is."

Daria's eyes widened before her face returned to normal, and she shook her head. The butterflies she had come to know all-too-well over the last couple of years didn't make an appearance, and she smirked as she sat on the edge of Trent's bed. "Gee, thanks, Trent," she said, patting the bed fondly and directing her actions towards Jane.

Trent smiled and gave a half-shrug. "No prob." He closed his eyes and returned to strumming and missed the completely surprised look on his younger sister's face.

"Is something wrong, Jane?" Daria smugly asked. Jane, not in the mood to lose their unspoken competition, quickly pulled herself together.

"No. Nothing's wrong." She stood and stretched, yawning. "I just think I'm gonna go out; you know, with Tom. My boyfriend." Jane sent an accomplished look at her friend but immediately wished to take it back. Daria's face bore a pained expression, like she'd been slapped across the face. "Daria..." Jane started, whispering, but was abruptly cut off.

"I'm going home," Daria tightly said, before storming out of the room.

"Daria!" Jane yelled after her friend, the fading sound of boots pounding against the stairs the only proof that she was even still in the house. "I thought you were okay with Tom!"

Jane heard the familiar slam of her front door and sighed, turning back to the inside of Trent's room. She met the gaze of her brother, who was wasting precious energy on a semi-disapproving expression.

"What?" Jane asked, irritated, putting her hands on her hips. "She didn't have the right to flip out!"

Trent didn't reply, just shrugged once more before returning to his strumming. Jane plopped back down next to Jesse, shoulders slumped, aura dejected.

"I think I'm gonna go with this one." Jesse held the pick in his left hand out decisively.

"God! It just isn't fair!" Quinn lamented, face pressed against the front window of the Pizza King. "I mean," she pulled away and spoke to the brunette standing next to her, "it's not fair that she should have a date when I don't! It's just not fair!!" Quinn returned to spying in the restaurant, peeking through a slice of glass not covered with that oh-so-hideous design.

"Gee, Quinn," Sandi said, practically gleefully, "you're so right. I mean, you're so cute and popular, I mean, how could you not have a date on Saturday night!"

"Awww...Sandi." Quinn put a hand on her friend's shoulder and sent her a smile. "You're so right. And I'm so lucky that you don't have a date tonight, so that you could hang around with me and spy on Stacy's!"

"Uh, well, you know--" Sandi blanched, unable to come up with a retort. Fortunately, Quinn's attention was easily diverted.

"Shh, shhh...They're coming out! STACY! Hey!"

Out of the restaurant came a good-looking brunette boy and pigtailed girl who turned around at Quinn's exclamation. "Oh, hey," Stacy said, waving at Quinn and Sandi. Quinn waved back, heartily, while Sandi raised her hand halfway before dropping it back to her side, never losing her bored expression.

"Hey. One sec, 'k?" Stacy motioned with one finger to the boy and he nodded.

"Cool."

Stacy giggled and blushed at his smile and wink and went over to her friends. "Hey," she started.

"Hey, Stacy; he's really cute." Quinn went in for the kill. "Where'd you meet him?"

Stacy started to speak, but Quinn didn't allow it.

"--Oh, right, I told you to take him off my hands because I thought that Shawn wanted to go out with me! Silly me, how could I forget something like that!"

"Quinn...are you really mad? Because I think Corey and I are in love!"

"Of course I'm not mad, Stacy! I'm mean, just because Shawn canceled and I was left all alone and when I called your house your mom...Wait. What did you say?"

"In love?" Sandi scoffed. "Puh-lease."

"What?" Quinn blinked, lost, before brightening. "Oh, Stacy, that's so romantic; how did that happen?! I'm so happy for you!"

"Isn't it great?!" Stacy squealed. "I mean, you just sent Corey over to my house so that you could go out with Shawn, and I dunno what happened. It was just like an instant chemistry. I mean," Stacy turned quiet, looking down at the ground, "I've never felt this way before. Where I want to scream and jump and cry all at the same time. It's like, intoxicating."

"Oh!" Quinn jumped up and down. "That's so great! Isn't it great, Sandi?"

"'Intoxicating?' Have you ever even been drunk? Because it sounds like, no."

"Sandi, why're you being so jaded? Stacy's in love." Quinn clasped her hands together and stared dreamily into the cloud-filled sky. "And it's all because of me."

"Oh, get off it, Quinn. You had nothing to do with Stacy's new-found love or whatever."

"Yes I did, Sandi! I set up Stacy and Corey because I thought that they had complementable qualities. I mean, duh. Anyone can see that they do."

Sandi furrowed her eyebrows. "Quinn, how the hell can you can stand there and say that when you just spent the last hour moping--"

"I do not mope."

"Moping because you just happened to be dateless tonight? God, Quinn, you're such a loser." Sandi crossed her arms and turned her nose on Quinn. "And I don't think 'complementable' is even a word."

"I'm a loser?" Quinn asked quietly. "I'm a LOSER? Well, let's just see what Stacy thinks!"

"Fine!!" Sandi yelled. "Let's do!"

"STACY!" both girls cried in unison, turning their heads to where Stacy had just been. But they were instead met with sight of Stacy and Corey walking down the street, hand in hand, their forms growing smaller as they headed towards the horizon.

"Ohhhhh," Quinn cooed. "They're so cute!"

"Grrr!" Sandi exclaimed, stomping her foot. "Stop acting like you're some goddamn gift to matchmaking! You'd just been you're normal, stupid, selfish self so stop acting like you care about someone else!"

Sandi and turned on her heel and left, and Quinn stared after her, jaw agape. "I can't believe she said that to me!" she muttered in a growl. "She is so full of herself." Quinn saw a flash of lightening in the distance and then heard a rumble of thunder. She involuntarily shuddered. "I'd better go home."

Helen was sitting in her living room, going over briefs on the coffee table in front of her. Her cellular service had long since gone out, and while she was starting to feel the familiar pangs of withdrawal, she also knew that one of the reasons she so desperately wanted to talk to Eric was because both of her girls were wandering the streets in the middle of a what was quickly becoming a very nasty storm, and without distraction she was prone to worrying about them. She heard the front door open and jumped, startled.

"Daria?"

After hearing no confirmation, she concluded that it most likely was her oldest daughter, and went on, "What was wrong at Jane's? Did their power go out? If so, they can come over her, but I'm running a little short on groceries, I haven't had time--"

To Helen's surprise, Daria walked up to her room without as much as acknowledging (or smarting off to) her. Uh oh, she thought.

But, before she could dwell on Daria's mood, her red-haired daughter came through the front door, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed. "It's good to have you girls home, that weather is ugly. They're expecting--"

Quinn held up her hand, silencing her mother. "I'm sonot in the mood, okay?"

Helen blinked. "Why? What's the matter?"

"Sandi's just. . . Er, she's just a bitch!"

And, without further explantion, Quinn was stomping up the stairs and Helen was forced to shrug. Yes, Sandi was a bitch.

Jake was the next one to enter the house, and he stretched his arms out, exclaiming, "Dear God, Helen, it's raining cats and dogs out there!"

Helen sighed. "What clued you in, Jake?"

Upstairs, Quinn opened the bathroom door without knocking. Daria, who'd been inspecting herself in the mirror, frowned. "Hey. I'm in here."

"Come now, Daria," Quinn said, nabbing her own spot in front of the sink and lifting up her bangs (ever since she'd read that acne was caused by sweat, which could be caused by bangs, she'd been a bit paranoid). "We both know I'd put this mirror to better use than you ever would."

Daria sighed "Who am I to argue with that?" She left the bathroom then, and Quinn was a bit surprised at the lack of fight on her sister's part.

"Daria?" Quinn stepped out into the hallway. Daria, two feet from her door, turned around.

"What?"

"What's, um, wrong?" Quinn looked uncomfortable, but was putting forth an effort, which was more than Daria typically expected from her.

"What makes you say that something's wrong?"

"God, Daria, you're, like, all sad."

Daria almost smirked at that. "How could you tell?"

Quinn clucked and crossed her arms. "Fine. If you don't want to tell me, that's just fine. But, you should know, I was just trying to be nice."

I'm going to regret this, Daria thought, but still she found herself exhaling. "Okay, let's say I have this friend--"

"You only have one friend, Daria."

"Wow. That bonding was nice, Quinn. We should do it again, sometime." Daria made to open her door, but was surprised when a small hand was placed on her shoulder.

"No! Okay, I'm sorry. Look, I, uh, need to talk, too, so you tell me what happened with Jane, and I'll tell you what happened with Sandi."

Daria inspected her sister with wary eyes. What was hidden in their depths was desperation and plenty of it. Her sister looked like if she didn't get what was bothering her off of her chest, she would explode. In fact, given Quinn's general ability to filter her emotional outbursts, she was being downright composed.

"Fine. I guess I got what I deserved for using only the singularly most cliche conversational starter in the history of human discourse." Daria opened her door. "Let us enter the room of death."

"Uh. . . You sure you don't wanna talk in my room?"

"And risk displacing some of your beloved stuffed animals? Believe me, Quinn, we're better off in here."

Daria flipped on the light switch, and Quinn sat down on the Daria's bed. Once Daria joined her, she began her rant.

"Okay, well, Sandi said that I was selfish, all because I was talking about how good I was at matchmaking--"

"You're good at matchmaking?"

"Oh, I set Stacy up with Corey tonight, and they totally hit it off! Isn't that great?"

"Didn't you have a date with Corey tonight?"

"Wait are you, my datekeeper?"

"No, if I was your datekeeper, I'd have shot myself by now." Daria rubbed the side of her head. "Quinn, would you mind getting to the point?"

"Daria. I'm not. . . selfish, am I?"

Daria could hardly believe it. Quinn was actually asking her that. She was actually setting herself up. A million possible responses flooded Daria's brain. But, damn it, Quinn was looking positively pathetic.

"Look, you're not selfish, really. More like, 'self-involved.'"

Quinn nodded and mouthed 'self-involved,' as if she was trying to perfect her comeback to Sandi tomorrow, which, Daria reflected, she probably was. "But what does 'self-involved' actually means?"

"It means that you're so caught up in yourself that you don't notice what's going on around you."

"Oh."

"It's not that you don't care about other people, you're just more into yourself."

"Yeah. That does sound like me."

Quinn gave in fairly easily. Good. Now maybe she would leave Daria to her much-needed solitude.

"So, what's bothering you?"

Oh. Right. They'd started with that. Daria waved her hand dismissively before leaning over to find a book that was somewhere under her bed. "Nothing too particularly devastating. I had a bit of a fight with Jane, though I suppose in retrospect I blew things out of proportion."

"Well, what happened?"

"She stepped on a cockroach. She took an innocent life, Quinn. She's a murderer."

"Well, duh! Of course you took that out of proportion!"

Daria didn't know if her sister was joking, but decided to act as if she was. "We were messing with each other, and she jokingly threw her relationship with Tom in my face, and I blew up."

"Oh."

"I'm just. . .I hardly ever get to see her. And when I do see her, all she does is talk about him. I just feel like the relationship we used to have is gone, and she knows that." Daria paused, realizing just how much she let slip. Blushing, she added, "But, you know. Whatever. Here it is!"

After finding the book she'd been looking for, she nodded at Quinn. "Thanks for the stimulating conversation, sis, but now I'm due for something a bit more challenging."

"Daria--"

"What do you know?" Daria said, turning a page in her novel. "He will not eat them in a box. . ."

"Daria, you know. You're right." Quinn stood. "I'm not selfish. I'm not a bad person. I'm just self-involved. But, I'm gonna prove Sandi wrong. I'm going to keep matchmaking just because I can, and because, well, it's just so cute! I mean, pairing people off. I mean, it's like I have a gift!"

Despite her initial hesitation, Daria had to admit, Quinn's obliviousness really was entertaining her. "You're doing so well at leaving that self-involved thing behind, Quinn."

"Thanks!" Quinn bounced out of the door then, leaving Daria to shake her head.