She awoke in darkness, cool, sweet wind swirling about her form in what seemed like open air. The sky was an inky blur and, disoriented, she began patting the ground around her in search of her glasses. She blinked in surprise-- she was laying in what felt like tall grass.
One slim hand curled around the bow of large, round framed glasses and with the smallest relief she slipped them on. They seemed to be intact and she smiled. That, at least, seemed to be going in her favor.
Sight restored, she looked around and what small smile she had faded. She sat, naked as the day the doctor smacked her ass, in the middle of what could only have been a crop circle. What she had at first mistaken for grass were corn stalks, flattened into one of what she knew would be a three-part pattern.
"Oh, god. Not again."
Her forehead felt strangely tight, and a moment later she pulled a pair of white panties with a red cartoon devil smiling from the front of the garment from over her dark auburn hair. Twenty feet away, a red-haired boy moaned softly and began to stir.
Daria Morgendorffer sighed and put a hand to her head. She was beginning to get a headache.
"Goddammit, Jane. Wasn't making him lose his job bad enough?"
Frowning, she keyed a code into the watch on her left wrist and a smiling Jane Lane greeted her best friend and partner in crime. They exchanged light banter in an unintelligible, garbling speech for a few moments before they were interrupted by a low groan.
"Make it quick, he's waking up."
"Aye, aye amiga."
Blue, spinning motes of light obscured Daria's form and she was gone.
Artie sat up and his hands immediately went to his forehead. He flopped back onto the corn with a pained groan and lay staring moodily up at the stars.
On Howard Drive, Daria leapt behind the Lanes' threadbare sofa with an undignified "GAAH!" as Trent Lane retreated, face scarlet and eyes wide. Jane rolled on the ground in helpless mirth as Daria, humiliated, shot the devil panties at her head and glared. Her eyes, usually a soft brown, glared a baleful silver and the carpet burst into flames.
Jane sat up and with a lazy gesture, the fire went out. She wiped an amber eye and stuck out an unusually long, purple tongue.
"Spoilsport."
7/15/08