I created this story on the PPMB. Hence it was posted in a block by block style format. I've decided to mostly keep that format, I'm going to combine some of the parts to help story flow.

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Jane Lane clutched the little slip of paper with trepidation as she gave the address written on it one last check. It had been over a decade since she had last heard from the owner of the apartment written on the paper, and even longer since they had last seen each other.

The thirty-two year old artist looked up at the apartment building in front of her. She had moved to this small town in New York from LA to get away from her 'friends'. Jane thought it ironic that an old e-mail reminded her that her oldest friend lived here instead, Daria Morgendorffer. Jane hadn't seen Daria since accepting a scholarship to the art school in LA. She hadn't heard from Daria since the start of 'dark days' as Jane thought of those first five years in LA.

Jane had called the number included in the e-mail, expecting it to be disconnected. Instead a familiar voice had answered. Daria had sounded shocked when she heard Jane's voice on the line. Daria claimed to be delighted Jane was in the area. She invited Jane over to her apartment that evening so they could catch up.

Jane had been startled to discover that her friend's condo was only three blocks away from her own. The neighborhood was undergoing a rebuilding period and you could get a nice place for next to nothing, if you were willing to do some work on it.

Jane knocked on Daria's door at 8pm sharp. Daria let Jane in and lead her to the kitchen. Daria raised an eyebrow when Jane politely refused a coffee, but had no trouble pouring water for Jane instead.

Jane took the time to look at her friend. It didn't surprise her at all that Daria basically looked the same, just older. Her skirt and top were tasteful and casual all at once. The only truly major change in her appearance was the addition of thinner glasses with a lighter almost-stylish frame.

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"So," Jane began a little awkwardly, "How's the folks?"

Daria visibly winced. "That's a bit of a story. Why don't you answer first so we can get it out of the way?"

"Ok…Mom and Dad are still the same, traveling all over the place without a care in the world. Don't know where they are this month, but I'm not sure I really care. I haven't heard from Penny since I left for college, but I'd guess she's still somewhere south of the border, selling junk to tourists. Wind got married again. This time he actually seems to be doing it right, they've been together for almost eight years now."

"Let's see…Summer actually has managed to corral her kids together and keep them that way, something about 'her or the state' I heard. Trent is doing well too; he's out in LA selling songs and the like to other bands. Turns out he's a pretty decent song writer, as long as you don't let him do lyrics. Dad and Mom still own the house in Lawndale. They're using automatic payments or something to keep it, but nobody has actually lived there for years. It wouldn't surprise me if the city's condemned it for lack of upkeep. Now it's your turn, amiga."

Daria let out a long sigh. "I told you about Grandma Barksdale right?"

"I think so…she's your mom's mom right? Paid for your cousin's wedding? She sounded rich if I'm remembering right."

"That's her. The whole mess with my family was ultimately her fault. Granny Barksdale had three kids: Rita, Helen, and Amy. The first child she favored and gave anything she wanted. The second child she disdained and delighted in pointing out her every failure. The third child she ignored and forced to raise herself."

"Granny Barksdale's will reflected how she treated her children in life. I was just about halfway through grad school when she passed away. Rita got 80%, Erin got 14%, and Mom got 1%. Amy, Quinn and I weren't even mentioned."

Jane let out a disturbed whistle. "Damn. I bet that triggered some epic fights."

Daria nodded, "In the end though, the will was obeyed. Mom was, and is, furious about it. Rita was such a bitch during the whole thing Mom…overreacted."

Jane looked at Daria with the beginning of real worry, "She didn't cut you off, did she?"

Daria made a so-so gesture with one hand. "Not completely. Dad managed to talk her into finishing paying for Quinn's and my schooling. But afterward…well some 'doing it on their own' would insure we didn't grow up into 'an adult leech' like Aunt Rita. Frankly, her timing could have been better."

"I'll say. Is every adult woman in your family a bitch?"

"I am an adult woman now too, Jane and I'm not sure I like what you are implying."

Daria grinned at Jane's expression. "I ended up doing some research. Believe it or not though, the records say yes."

"You have got to be joking."

"Not at all. If you trace the Barksdale line back through our mothers there hasn't been a single boy born to a 'Barksdale' since they came to America. In fact, every 'Barksdale' family since they immigrated has consisted of two or more girls. Erin is the only 'only child' I can find on record."

"Wow. And they were all at each other's throats?"

Daria nodded, "All the ones I could get any personal details about anyway. Quinn and I might be the closest Barksdale sisters in the last couple of centuries. Anyway, as Mom and Rita really started getting into it Quinn and I vowed to stay close…and that we would only have one child a piece to prevent a repeat with the next generation."

Jane laughed, "Well, maybe you need to give your quota to Quinn anyway. I really don't see you . . . amiga?" Jane trailed off staring at Daria's expression with open mouth shock. "You mean . . . you? Who, what, how, when?"

"All part of the big story. She's already asleep or I'd introduce you." Daria looked a little embarrassed. "Mom, cut me off at a pretty bad time in my life. Dad convinced her to keep paying for my actual classes, but there were a lot of supplies and hidden fees he couldn't get her to pay for. I was talking to my career counselor when something really odd came up."

"Odd?"

Daria nodded. "My career counselor was friends with a woman who was having some difficulties. Her friend, Penny Van Borne, wanted to have a child with her husband. Unfortunately a genetic defect had destroyed Mrs. Van Borne's reproductive tract. Not only could she not have children, she couldn't even use her own eggs for a donation. She was looking for a surrogate mother slash egg-donor who was as close to a physical match to herself as possible."

The light came on behind Jane's eyes. "And that would be you?"

Daria nodded. "Not as close of a match Aunt Amy and myself, but we could probably pass as cousins or half sisters in a crowd." Daria paused and considered her wording. "I needed the money and it was best offer I could find. I agonized for about a week before agreeing. Two weeks later they take one of my eggs, fertilize it with her husband's sperm and implant me with it. Nine months later I give birth to a healthy baby girl."

"But if you were just a rented womb how did you end up with the kid? Assuming it's her of course."

Daria nods, "She is. Apparently Mr. Van Borne was fertilizing more eggs than just mine. The others he was fertilizing the old-fashioned way. Mrs. Van Borne caught him at it and they had a big fight and messy break-up. Mrs. Van Borne couldn't cancel the contract with me, but she doesn't want the kid anymore. So when I gave birth Mrs. Van Borne put the baby straight into foster care."

"Wow, seems like a bitchy thing to do."

Daria snorts, "It was, but the child was hers by contract. I had a hard labor; by the time I got out of recovery Mrs. Van Borne and 'her' baby was gone, leaving only the final payment."

"But if Mrs. Van Bitchy took the kid, how did she end up with you?"

Daria grinned at the name she had used for Mrs. Van Borne herself. "Well, Sammy, that's Samantha Marie Morgendorffer, didn't win the foster family lottery. They were abusing her from day one. It was the acid burns that got Social Services attention." Jane's eyes widened as Daria continued, "It would take an hour to go through all the legal wrangling and illegal record checking they did, but in the end they offered custody of Sammy to me."

The light in Daria's eyes dimmed as she remembered the past. "I won't show you the pictures. They took this perfect little girl and . . . and . . . ." Daria's fists clench so hard Jane feared that they were bleeding. "I couldn't turn her away, I just couldn't. It's been 3 years and I haven't regretted taking her in for an instant."

"Wow. What do the 'rents think about all this?"

"Once Dad got over his confusion he was ecstatic. He makes a pretty good granddad; he visits at least once a month. Quinn comes by just as often. She says since I've already had one she doesn't have to rush to have a kid of her own anymore. Mom . . . had some words when I first took Samantha in. She wasn't happy I had her in the first place. We still aren't talking."

"Bummer. I do expect to be meeting the little Morgendorffer next time though."

"Agreed. Just don't to say anything about her hair. The acid left some . . . scaring, and all the hair in the region grew back white. The other kids in her kindergarten class think it's cool, but some of the other parents have been giving her problems. She's a little sensitive about it right now. And now that we've uncovered my biggest drama story of the last decade, it's your turn."

Jane shrugged. "Not quite as interesting as yours. After I finished that art program in LA I started traveling around and trying to sell paintings. I discovered that it is one thing to be a good artist and something completely different to be able to live off being an artist. I started hanging out with the 'right' people to get my stuff into galleries and before I knew it I was a happening party chick; and completely addicted."

Daria looked at Jane in concern, "Caffeine, alcohol, or drugs?"

Jane grimaced. "All of the above, plus sex. Woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and couldn't even remember what month it was, let alone what day. It was a big damn wakeup call. I checked myself into rehab the next morning."

Jane took a sip of her water. "Thankfully I had been putting some money from each of my sales away. It was enough to see me through rehab and the work I did while going through withdrawal sold for big bucks. I have a smaller audience now, but at least I'm not as much of a cliché as I used to be."

"But you are clean right?"

Jane nodded, "Alcohol and drug free for seven years. Got my caffeine intake is down to one cup a week, tops. Sex . . . well I'm not sex free, but I'd like to think I'm not abusing it anymore. I managed avoid catching anything permanent and I'm being a hell of a lot more careful to keep it that way now."

Jane paused, and then grimaced in memory. "Unfortunately, my works seem to have started to have started to become popular again and the crowd that got me into all that in the first place started coming to me. I had to get away before I got dragged back. That's when I decided I was going to move."

Daria smiled, "And you chose this area?"

"It's close enough to the galleries in New York that I can still make it to shows, but far enough away from them I won't be in constant contact. Then I remembered getting an e-mail saying you lived here and hey bonus."

"It'll be good to have you in the neighborhood again. Have you found a place to stay yet?"

"I bought a loft studio apartment about three blocks from here. The last owner was a painter, but he moved out to be closer to the galleries." Jane shrugged, "It's not perfect, but with a little work it will be. By the way, I really love what you've done to this place . . . . Think you could give me a hand with mine?"

Daria smiled, "I think I can free up the time."

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The next day Jane returned to Daria's apartment at 2pm to continue her reunion with her once best friend, and to meet her little 'niece' of course.

She was a little surprised when Daria meet her at the door carrying her purse. "Hey amaiga, going somewhere? I thought you were going to introduce me to the little rugrat."

Daria gave Jane an odd look before grinning. "Jane, what age did I say Sammy was last night?"

Jane returned Daria's off look. "You didn't, just said she was in kindergarten. I guess she'd be five or so?"

Daria nodded at Jane's guess as she began to lead her out of the apartment building. "And what day is it?"

"Tuesday, but what does that . . ." Jane paused for a second to slap herself in the head, "kindergarten. Of course."

Daria led Jane down to her aging, but still functional, car. Gesturing Jane into the shotgun seat Daria slipped behind the wheel, but did not start the engine. "Jane." Daria began.

"Yeah amiga?"

Her voice growing emotionless, Daria began to speak, carefully not looking at Jane. "Not all of Samantha's scars are physical, so there are some important rules you need to know before you meet her."

Jane caught Daria's change in attitude, and carefully nodded.

"The usual ones you'd use for any small child are in force, watch your language, and watch where you step, that sort of thing. Samantha is a bit on the small side, so she can be easy to miss."

Daria's voice grew even colder. "There are higher rules, though, that are more important. If you break any of these rules, or I hear about you breaking any of these rules, I will never see or speak to you again!"

Jane gulped and nodded harder.

"No hitting, not even play hits or miming to hit her. No grabbing, jerking, or picking her up unless you ask first, or her life is in immediate danger. You can give her nicknames, but may not call her a brat, or any form of brat, her first family called her that. Do not tell her to 'shut up'. It's ok to tell her to quite down, but not 'shut up'. Got it?"

Jane nodded hard at each command.

"Good. Sammy's really quite around adults she doesn't know, so don't be surprised if she doesn't speak to you for a while. She didn't speak to me for the first six months. I taught her some sign language so we can communicate when she's not talking."

"Err, I'm not sure I should ask, but what happened to her foster family?" Jane asked with trepidation.

"Jail." Was Daria's only answer as she started the car.

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A short drive later Daria pulled into the parking lot of a clean school with tons of greenery.

"Wow, looks a lot better than I remember Lawndale Elementary being." Jane commented as she followed Daria to the main office.

Daria nodded, "It's the newest school in the district. The condo is just out of its district, but they were having trouble getting parents to transfer to a school without a 'reputation'. They were happy enough to let me transfer Sammy here. The grounds are gorgeous, the classrooms are well appointed, and the staff is much better than you'd think a new school would have." Daria said as they entered the main office.

"And," the young secretary sitting behind the counter continued in a teasing tone, "We're willing to overlook a certain incident as long as she continues to follow the rules. I saw you coming in Daria; Samantha is already on the way down."

Daria's blushing thanks was almost covered by Jane's question, "Incident?"

"Jane meet Anne, school secretary and friend; Anne meet Jane, my oldest friend who just moved into the area. There was an incident with a parent who thought he had heard of me. He made a few allusions to my past employment and my likely current employment. Then he made a few more allusions to Sammy's probable future employment."

Anne picked up the narrative. "Principal Maxwell asked both of them to join her in her office with the SRO. The door is just barely closed when I hear two thumps and a crash. I run in and see the man, a big ex-football player, out cold on the floor with a broken nose and the SRO holding Daria out of follow-up range."

"Thankfully," Daria glared at Anne while taking the story back, "The embarrassment of being taken out by someone more than one hundred pounds lighter than him prevented Mr. Football Jock from pressing charges. Since his comments were inflammatory and made in front of students he's been asked to let his wife do the picking-up whenever possible and to do so 10 minutes late. My punishment for the whole thing is that I have to pick up Sammy 10 minutes early for the rest of the year."

"And you shouldn't have gotten that," Anne finished, "Mr. Thompson is a total pig, but Mrs. Maxwell had to be 'fair'. Frankly with all the comments he's made to other parents I'm surprised no one had already laid him out."

Any additional comments from Daria were swallowed when the office door opened behind them and a cry of, "Mommy!" rang through the office. Jane turned just in time to see a vaguely green colored blur hit Daria in the legs.

Daria squatted and held her arms out. A second latter she was standing again and the blur resolved itself into a little girl in a bright green dress. From her angle Jane couldn't seen the child's face, but she could see a thin white hair starting around the top of her head and continuing all the way to the bottom. Jane thought that could be really pretty, if it had been styled for effect instead of the simple haircut it currently had.

Jane watched her friend's face as she listen to the high speed, but low volume, recounting of the day's events. It was the happiest expression Jane could remember seeing on Daria's face. Jane slowly angled around the pair to get a look at the child's face. She caught sight of some swarthy skin and brown eyes before she was spotted by the eyes' owner. Jane had just a second to see the eyes going wide before the whole face disappeared into Daria's shoulder.

"Whoop. It's ok Sammy." Daria comforted her suddenly shy struck daughter. "This is my friend Jane. She moved into a place near ours and she's dropping by to say hi. Can you say hi to her?"

The small face stayed buried in Daria's shoulder, but a hand comes and made a gesture that Jane vaguely remembered meant hello.

Jane crouched lower to put her face at the same level as Daria's shoulder. "Hello Samantha, my name is Jane. I used to be your mom's bestest friend; can we be friends too?"

The little head nodded slightly into her mother's shoulder, but other than that gave no sign she had even heard Jane. Daria smiled at Jane and flashed a gesture Jane took as 'keep trying' as she signed her daughter out of school.

Jane got a much better look at Samantha as Daria strapped her into the child seat in the rear of the car. The picture in Jane's head had been of a mini-Daria or, if the universe was feeling ironic, a mini-Quinn. Instead, Samantha must have more heavily favored her father's appearance. Mr. Van Borne had to have had ancestors from Italy, because Sammy had the same lightly tanned skin tone Jane associated with the area. Samantha also had large brown eyes, mostly brown hair and a little button nose screamed 'cute' to anyone who cared to look.

"So," Jane asked as Daria started driving back to her condo, "What do you do for work now?"

Daria gave Jane a grateful smile. "Mostly I ghost-write for executives."

"How so?"

"I take high-level resumes, proposals, grant proposal and the like and rewrite them to be more effective. I did something similar for term paper in college and grad school. I also have a few books published."

Jane looked at Daria quizzically. "I don't remember seeing anything with your name on it."

Daria shrugged, "Pen name. They weren't best sellers or anything like that. Still the royalty checks are a nice bonus. What about you; chosen a preferred medium yet?"

Jane laughed, "Me? Limit my artistic flexibility? Never. I do mostly painting and sculpting in odds and ends these days. About half of what I make is commissioned, the other half goes to galleries for general sales."

"I didn't figure you for a lot of commission work. You were a little too out there for the mainstream."

Jane shrugged, "Most of the people who commission works from me are a little odd themselves. I lost some of my regular buyers after I," Jane flipped a quick glance at the back seat before rethinking her next words, "cleaned-up. The ones I kept have been understanding about the move and can't wait to see what I do next."

The rest of the trip was filled with small talk. Daria tried to get Samantha to contribute to the conversation, but she stayed silent.

They had just made it to the apartment when Jane's cell phone rang. Daria suppressed a laugh upon seeing Jane's cell phone, which had obviously felt the touch of a certain paintbrush. "Hello, Jane Lane speaking. Really? When?" Jane muted the phone and turned to Daria. "That was the electrician I hired to put in new light fixtures. The last guy to own it might have called himself an artist, but the loft has terrible lighting. They had a cancellation and can squeeze me in now instead of next week. Would you mind if I bailed on you to supervise?"

Daria nodded, "No problem Jane, Sammy and I need to go shopping for groceries anyway. Get going and well catch-up some more next time."

"Ok, give me about twenty minutes to get ready then come on." Jane told the electricians, "Catch you next time, amiga, amigette. Stay well."

"Stay well Jane." Jane was a little surprised when Samantha waved goodbye, and took it as a good sign.

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