Disclaimer: I do not own Daria and its characters.

Chapter 1

The busy streets of downtown Boston were buzzing with life, as cars whizzed past elegant stores, people babbled as they went about their evening, and a loud clap of thunder that could be heard for miles had threatened a bitter change in weather.

Daria shrugged her trench coat over her shoulders begrudgingly, watching above as heavy rain clouds formed.

It's a nice day to have my car in the shop.

She lifted the heavy shopping bag containing the new boots she had just purchased, which had been momentarily placed on the pavement, and made her way towards the nearest bus shelter. Wherever the hell that was! Rain drops were already beginning to fall.

It was the day after her nineteenth birthday. So much for a celebration, not that she was one for big parties though. Her parents had planned to take a trip to Boston to see her for her birthday, but then proceedings for one of Helen's big civil cases had been forwarded, after three years in the making. Jake felt that he was in no shape for travelling, after stubbing his toe on a discarded pair of Quinn's clunky heels, and feared the risk of a blood clot.

To top it all off, Jane, her best friend and roommate, had to make an emergency flight to Lawndale after her brother, Trent, had been rushed to hospital, the result of a disastrous gig.

Daria was surprised in herself by how much she had been looking forward to seeing them again.

It would have been nice to spend the day with friends and family, despite all the birthdays in the past where she had wished that everyone would just disappear.

At least there was a thoughtful card in the mail from Quinn, along with a gift voucher for a new pair of boots, which was something she needed, and Tom had called sending his well wishes.

She quickened her pace, as the rain droplets became a deluge, seeking a drug store or café for shelter.

She pushed through the revolving door of a nearby restaurant.

Before she had a chance to sit down and inspect the place further, she heard a familiar man's booming voice call her name.

"Hey DARIA Morgandorffer! Is that YOU? Over here!"

She whirled around to see a rather distinguished looking man sitting at a table, dressed in a tailored suit, nursing a glass of red wine and waving to her. Despite a slight change in appearance, there was no denying it was Anthony Demartino from Lawndale. What was he doing in Boston?

Like a deer in the headlights she stood there gawking in surprise, not sure how to react. She felt her cheeks burn, caught off guard by his piercing gaze. Oddly enough, he seemed pleased to see her.

An unexpected reunion with her high school history teacher wouldn't have felt so awkward for Daria if she hadn't kissed him on the night of her graduation. With the words he had exchanged with her after she had received her award, she only thought it courteous to peck him on the cheek, and hadn't anticipated the level of gossip raised succeeding the incident. Especially given that everybody knew Andrea was the one who had the crush on him. She shuddered at the thought.

Like a deer in the headlights she stood there gawking in surprise, not sure how to react. She proceeded towards him.

"Um, Hi. If I didn't know any better, I would think you let my sister Quinn and her cronies give their long suffering teacher a makeover," Daria said coolly. "Talk about a final nail in the coffin."

He chuckled in amusement. "I'm so glad you HAVEN'T lost your sense of HUMOUR, Daria. Have I ever told you that's one of the things I've always liked about you?" he said her with a gruff voice. "Despite the COPIOUS amount of melancholic and SPIRIT-ually draining drivel EXPELLED from the mouths of those MORONIC IMBECILES one has to endure within their LEARNING environment in the PURSUIT of a tertiary education!"

"What are you doing here, Mr. Demartino?" She was not put off by his snide comment, and reciprocated with equally sarcastic jibes throughout the conversation. "This has made my day. I've been slipped a ruffy and I'm hallucinating."

"I moved here recently. I've taken up a professorship with UMASS actually," he explained. "And you can call me ANTHONY, Daria. I'm not your teacher anymore?" He offered her the chair opposite him. "Join me?"

She nodded hesitantly, accepting his offer. He poured her a glass. Hell, it was better than being kicked out in the pouring rain by a bus boy. She glimpsed briefly at the drinks menu placed on the table.

Fourteen dollars for a soda? Fuck that shit.

The Mr. Demartino she knew would turn in his grave at the thought of spending money at such a pricey establishment.

She grabbed hold of the bottle of wine Demartino had so eagerly shared with her, examining the label carefully. "Hey, this isn't cheap."

"Well DAR-ia, you've always been ONE to state the OB-vious. You THINK I would be able to eat HEAR on a teacher's SALARY? "

"Of course not. Teachers are underappreciated and underpaid," she said in her characteristically flat monotone. "They spend their lives being degraded by a generation of ungrateful, ignorant spoiled brats, but of course I don't have to tell you that Mr – um – Anthony."

It felt uncomfortable referring to him as his christian name.

A waiter approached their table. "Are you ready to order, sir? And the lady?"

Demartino handed Daria a menu. "Order what you LIKE, dinner's on ME!"

Daria arched an eyebrow in response to such atypical generosity from a man who once blatantly stated before his class that when a former student was awarded the Heisman Trophy and attained a chain of auto-dealerships in the future, he would be saving for a new pair of pants.

She found the good-natured smirk plastered across his face slightly disturbing.

Could it be that he was happy? Such as it was,Daria couldn't understand how anybody who had broken free from the wicked clutches of Ms. Li and Lawndale would he not be.

/

After an hour of sharing good food and fine wine, remising about old times of Lawndale High, Daria was at ease with Demartino, seeing him more as a person than a disgruntled educator.

"To be honest with you Daria, I'm surprised that you got involved with this young buck Tom."

"It was a while ago." Daria rolled her eyes, taking another sip of wine. "Why do you say that, because I'm a brain?"

"Na. Because I always thought that you and Jane where, well . . . you had each other."

"You thought we were lesbians?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. We're not gay."

"I realize that now. I had you and Jane's backs you know," he assured her sincerely. "That's if things ever turned ugly. There were a lot of close minded people at that school."

"Tell me about it. You can wax philosophical about the role genetics play in homosexuality, but it's inevitable that breeders like Kevin Thompson end up pumping gas, and working extra shifts at Burger King to support their lay-about wives and eight children, because they don't know how condoms work."

Demartino tilted his head back in laughter. "A mealy mouthed sentiment, Daria."

She wasn't sure whether it was the wine, or the stimulation she had gained from an adult conversation, but Daria was at ease with Demartino, seeing him more as a person than a disgruntled educator. It was then that the light hearted chit chat made a turn for the worst.

"You know, I once came across a NUDE painting of myself at the SCHOOL," Demartino cut into the conversation.

"Excuse me!"

"Lying on a bed naked covered in rose petals. It was left in the art room. I'm pretty sure it was a piece of JANE LANE'S work. HELL, no other student from Lawndale is THAT good."

Daria tried to contain her laughter.

I had better not tell Demartino about Jane's semi-dude sculpture of him then.

"I broke into the studio when Ms. Defoe was at lunch and swiped it. I have it hanging above my mantle."

Daria poured her third glass of merlot. She couldn't help but think that Andrea had put the idea of painting an American Beauty inspired nude of their middle-aged history teacher into Jane's head, yet couldn't believe that Jane had actually gone through with it. "Oh, so that's where that went?"

Daria noticed Demartino's eye bulge in intrigue.

She felt her skin flush instantly. "That's to say it will be worth a lot of money some day," she reasoned confidently, not wanting him thinking that she was in any way implicated. "I'm sure Jane would be flattered knowing that her work is good enough to be stolen . . ."

His devious smile showed that he was not convinced by her seemingly rational defenses.

Daria prodded her soufflé with a fork, wanting to escape. ". . . . Although she wasn't happy when she found that the painting was missing, since she was going to enter it into an art competition. We thought Ms. Li had confiscated it."

"Can you imagine what Ms. Li would do if she had seen it?" he said viciously.

"Exploit it for all its worth as a way to pour more funds into the school budget, no doubt."

Demartino was silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

"Daria, you're one of the brightest students I've had the privilege to teach during my time at Lawndale. And I don't think it was fair that Ms. Li underestimated you the way she did. And you were usually right on the occasions you reined her in."

It wasn't the first time that night he had openly expressed the respect he harbored for his former student. She stared down at her soggy boots, her cheeks becoming very hot.

"I'm new to this town, so I don't have a long list of local contacts as yet. I feel lucky we've crossed paths with one another." He seemed nervous. "I was wandering if you would attend the College Gala with me held this Friday night?"

Daria's mouth dropped in surprise, unable to speak.

It wasn't clear what his intentions were. Is he asking me on a date?

For all she new, the dinner she was sharing with Demartino at that moment could have turned into a date at some point or another, right under her nose without her even realizing it.

Oh crap.

His eyes helplessly searched her vacant expression, the long pause setting his nerves on edge. "Please Daria, your witty repertoire will be an asset for me. And anyways, I don't want to spend the evening with a bunch of BRAIN DEAD yuppies, it will drag on FOREVER. If I have you there, at least I'll have SOMEONE to bounce my INSULTING MUTTERINGS off of."

"Ah, yeah sure. I'm free that night," she answered quietly.

"OH GREAT!" He held her hand from across the table, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Thank you, Daria. It means a lot to me."

/

"My God Daria, so that's what happened to my painting? I should sue Demartino for loss of earnings," Jane shrieked into the phone. "I can't believe I lost out on two-thousand dollars prize money because of that cheap bastard!"

Jane held the phone receiver between her head and shoulder, sitting on the bed in her old room, as she scribbled on a sketch pad.

"As I recall, you entered that gummy-bear mosaic instead, and got runners up," Daria reminded her.

"I couldn't buy a new easel with movie tickets."

"Anthony's not all that bad. He's just a good example of what can happen if you pursue a job you fucking hate, and never do anything about it because the risk is too high. But hey, with this new lucrative professor gig of his, I'm sure he would gladly pay a decent price for the painting, and buy you dinner."

"So let me get this straight. Not only are you defending the guy, but you're now on a first name basis with him? What did he do, lace your pesto with love potion?"

"I didn't have sex with him if that's what you're implying?" Daria hesitated. "I'm going out with him again this Friday."

"What, you mean like on a proper date?"

"I don't know if it's really a date."

"Watch out girlfriend, sounds to me like Demartino is eager to jump your bones."

"They're having this function at UMass, and he didn't want to be the only faculty member without a partner." Daria sat on the bench in the kitchen of her and Jane's apartment, her muscles tensing in response to her own words. Even she found her justifications weak. They sounded a lot better inside her head.

"And you said yes?"

"It was probably the wine talking."

"What a creep! He greased the oars of his proposal with booze."

"You're right. Looking back now, I wish I hadn't accepted the invitation, but it wouldn't be right for me to pull out. I made a commitment." Daria placed a couple of pop tarts in the toaster. "I must say, you're not taking this as well as I thought you would. I mean, you were the one who painted a naked portrait of him in high school, not to mention that sculpture with the bird."

"Come on Daria, I did that as a dare. I felt uninspired after Tom ate my gummy-bears, so adopted a fresh idea from Andrea." Jane was stumped by Daria's silence, imagining her snickering on the end of the line. "What can I say? Mr. Demartino's hot with his shirt off, for an old guy at least."

"Yeah," Daria chided. "With his head chopped off maybe. Hey wait, when did you see Mr. Demartino with his shirt off?"

"Long story. Forget I said anything. I still think it's weird that he asked you to that thing on Friday."

"Can we talk about something else?"

Jane sighed in defeat. There was no getting through Daria's stubbornness, even when her mistakes were so blatant. "Yeah sure."

"I'm glad Trent's doing better."

"Yeah well, it was pretty much touch and go for a while there, Daria. You never know with these acid trips." Jane sounded more solemn than her usual chipper. "Hey, is it okay if Trent comes and lives with us for a couple weeks? He really needs to keep away from the scene for a while."

Daria paused for a moment. She was sure she heard Jane suppress tears. "He's always welcome." Daria reflected fondly upon the summer before when he had stayed with them. "I should have gone back to Lawndale with you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me," she said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. You being there wouldn't have stopped Trent from needing his stomach pumped or having to attend court ordered rehab. He's doing fine now. I'm sorry I missed your birthday by the way. Trent said he's sorry too, for ruining it."

"What? He didn't ruin my birthday. Neither of you did," Daria insisted. "It's not your fault that everything fell apart at once. I've always wanted one birthday where I wouldn't have people bugging me all day. I finally got my wish."

"Ha ha, that's true."

"Tell you what, if Trent feels that way, tell him he can write a song about it to make it up to me, when he comes to Boston."

Jane smiled to herself. "I'm sure Trent will look forward to that."

A/N: This is my first Daria story, so let me know what you think:-D