A/N Hey all, a quick note. This is my first Daria fic, and I haven't published here in years. Any and all feedback will be appreciated. I hope you enjoy.

[Daria/Trent friendship/pre-ship]

Daria sat at her usual seat at the bar, nursing her root beer, letting Mystik Spiral's music fade into the background as she leisurely took in her environment. Spiral had its usual turnout: a few diehard fans who were friends of the band since high school, some Zon regulars who practically lived there, and some townies who staved off boredom with live music. Daria allowed herself a smirk. While she didn't have anything against the four members of Spiral individually, she severely doubted they'd ever "make it big" as a band. Oh well, she mused. At least it sounds like all the instruments are in tune.

Daria glanced at the empty seat beside her, which Jane had occupied for the start of the set, until she announced her intentions to stalk her latest prey: a 20-something guy making googly eyes at Jane since she walked through the door. Daria didn't mind all that much. Taking another sip, she thought about how uncomfortable she would have been a year ago had Jane abandoned her at a bar for some guy she thought cute. Now, however, with her first year of college under her belt, she no longer dreaded time apart from her best friend. They'd been separated by miles Daria's first semester as she waited for Jane to start school at BFAC for spring term. School dominated most of their time, but they still made time for a slice and Sick Sad World marathons. To nobody's surprise, the girls decided to rent an apartment together in Boston. They'd already paid their deposit and had half their belongings in storage for the summer, waiting to be set free come fall. That left Jane and Daria to spend another summer in Lawndale, with Mystik Spiral playing at the Zon, just like old times. Some things never change.

As the Spiral played their final song – they always closed with Icebox Woman – Daria gazed at her glass, feeling sluggish. Strange, she thought. I don't remember doing anything particularly tiring today. She blinked a few times, chugging the rest of her root beer, rubbing her eyes.

Trent was pleased to see Daria show up. He had hoped she would tag along with Jane, who had promised to come, but he tried not to be too optimistic about anything. She was, after all, a college student, more grown up than he'd ever be. She might suddenly find herself too cool for the loser townies of Lawndale, who were all unable to make names for themselves, let alone leave. Still, she might have been enjoying herself, it was hard to tell. Trent couldn't read her minute facial expressions as well as Jane could; not to mention her face lost detail from his position on stage. She's here anyway, Trent reminded himself as he caught glimpses of her throughout the set.

After the moderate applause that followed Icebox Woman, Trent put away his guitar immediately, asking his bandmates if they would pack up without him. "I've got to go, uh, talk to someone about something." Catching some flak about ditching them for a girl, he meandered through the crowd to Daria's seat at the bar. The small smile that had crept onto his face unbeknownst to him melted into a frown as he got closer. Something was wrong. She looked… dazed. Her head rested on her hand, elbow on the bar. Her eyes were glassy and she was staring at her empty glass.

Waiting a beat to see if she'd notice, Trent finally announced his presence. "Daria." Only then did she realize she had company. She startled, turning. "Heyyy, Trent."

The way Daria stressed "hey" caught Trent's attention. His eyebrows furrowed. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"Mhmm."

Something was definitely off. Daria would never answer a question about his band's performance with one word, let alone a positive one.

Daria, for the life of her, couldn't understand what happened to her center of balance. She could feel herself swaying but couldn't steady herself. Her eyelids felt heavy; keeping them open was suddenly a challenge. She tried standing up.

Trent watched her very closely. She stumbled as she got off her seat, supporting herself with the bar again. Trent placed a hand under her elbow, which she didn't jerk away. "Daria, what did you have to drink tonight?" he asked, dreading her answer.

"Just a root beer," she told him, gesturing poorly to her empty glass.

"Dammit," Trent muttered. Not drinking alcohol left one other scenario, and he wished she had been drinking illegally.

"Daria, we should get you home."

"Why?" By this point, almost all of her weight was leaning into Trent's lean form. "Hmm, Trent, you smell like cigarettes."

"Sorry," he apologized absentmindedly, now holding Daria with an arm around her shoulders.

Daria breathed deeply and exhaled. "S'ok. I kinda like it," she mumbled into his chest. Trent scanned the club quickly, hoping to find Jane. She had the keys to his car, since both girls refused to ride in the Tank. Not to mention the few beers he'd had before the show and one during. Usually he would shrug it off and drive anyway, but not tonight. He couldn't do that to Daria.

Jane was nowhere to be seen. Trent didn't want to leave Daria alone, but she was becoming limper as minutes passed. Before he could decide on a course of action, he saw Jane come in through the back door with a guy he didn't recognize. He wasted no time. "Janey!"

Jane would have berated her brother for interrupting getting her flirt on with a guy, but the urgency in his tone had her dropping whathisface in a second. She hurried over to Trent and Daria. "Trent, what's wrong?"

"Janey, what have you had to drink tonight?"

"Um, the rest of the water bottle in your car that I tossed in the garbage outside. Why, what's wrong with Daria?"

"I need you to drive us home tonight," Trent said, more serious than Jane had heard in years. He leaned in close, "I think Daria's been roofied."

Daria shuffled as far as the club's front door before she was asleep and her legs gave out completely. Trent picked her up and carried her to the backseat of his car, which Jane had already opened. He placed her gently in the seat then buckled her up, sitting next to her instead of riding shotgun. Jane drove straight home, taking creative license with yellow lights and stop signs. Arriving at Casa Lane, Trent gathered up Daria again and brought her inside. She slept deeply against his chest, not stirring up the flight of stairs or finally lying on Jane's bed. He left to allow Jane to change Daria into her pajamas; as soon as Daria told her mother she was seeing Trent's band perform, Helen reminded her to bring a change of clothes so she "didn't look like some bum off Boston's streets." When Jane re-opened her bedroom door, Trent stood in the doorway.

"She'll be ok, Janey," he assured her. "Nothing for us to do but let her sleep it off." Jane nodded sullenly.

"You should get some sleep, too," he advised. "You can take my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

Jane accepted his offer. She grabbed a few things to sleep in for herself, then turned toward Daria.

"She'll be ok," he repeated, squeezing Jane's shoulder. She nodded once more, wished her brother a good night and retreated to his room.

Trent stood in the doorway, watching Daria sleep before he realized himself and turned out the light, shutting the door. Whatever relief he might have felt was quickly replaced by anger. Who would just walk into a club and do something like that? Who wanted to take advantage and hurt someone? To do that to anyone was terrible, but to Daria? It seemed especially heinous. She had enough trust issues without some asshole pulling this stunt.

Trent lay on the couch for hours, still fully clothed, trying to make sense of things. If he felt this badly, he could hardly imagine Daria taking the news. Would she ever come out and watch his band play again? He doubted it.

The night pressed on, the sky turning darker blue until eventually becoming light. Trent never had this much trouble sleeping. Sure, he stayed up all night often, but he always fell asleep immediately. He couldn't think of the last time it happened. He couldn't remember the last time he had so much on his mind.

After rolling over on the couch for the 30th time, he turned on the tv, if for nothing other than background noise.

Daria opened her eyes one at a time, squinting at the sunlight. Even without her glasses, she recognized the fuzzy blobs as Jane's room. Except she was on the bed, not the floor, as she traditionally slept. Putting on her frames, she saw Jane was nowhere to be found.

She had a dull headache and cottonmouth. It almost felt like a hangover, except that shouldn't be possible. In Lawndale, neither she nor Jane indulged like they did at school. She knew she went with the Lanes to the Zon. She knew Spiral performed, but they could have played classical piano for all she remembered. She'd been at the bar, and thought she smelled cigarettes, but could not remember getting home or changing.

As Daria sat in bed, she heard a faint noise coming from downstairs. She was always the first one awake at Casa Lane, able to have more private time in the morning there than her own house. Maybe someone fell asleep to the television. She reluctantly left bed to investigate.

She barely registered Trent's door was shut as she descended the stairs. Turning the corner, she did not expect to see Trent Lane awake at 8:20 Saturday morning.

"Trent?"

Trent jerked his head, startled by his new company. Tit for tat, Trent thought. "Oh, hey Daria." They took a moment to assess each other. To Trent, Daria seemed much more coordinated, if climbing down the stairs without his knowing was any indication. Daria took in his clothes from the previous night, the blanket kicked to the other end of the couch, and the bags under his eyes.

"Did you sleep at all?"

Trent licked his lips. "Nope. Couldn't. Happens sometimes…" though Daria had never seen it happen in 4 years of knowing him. "How are you feeling?"

Daria paused. Trent rarely inquired to the state of her wellbeing. "Well, I've got a headache and I'm a bit parched, but you know." Trent looked relieved with the answer. Daria was puzzled. Did this have anything to do with last night's hazy events? She had to know.

"Trent? What happened last night?"

Trent did not look like he wanted to respond. Instead, he deflected with his own question. "What do you remember?" An obvious stalling technique.

"I remember Jane driving us to your show. I remember you guys introducing yourselves. I'm pretty sure I sat at the bar all night."

Trent sighed. Daria knew something was wrong and clearly wanted an explanation. Trent wished Jane were awake to help him. He didn't feel qualified for this chat.

"Somebody roofied your drink, Daria." Daria, who had joined Trent on the couch, was uncharacteristically speechless. "After we finished the gig, I went to see you at the bar. Except you were really out of it. Your speech was slurred and you had trouble standing. I thought maybe you were drunk until you told me you had root beer. Janey drove us home. You were asleep before we got you in the car."

Daria's breathing was shallow. She struggled to keep her voice steady. "Did you see who did it?"

Trent shook his head. "I didn't see anyone around you most of the night, and there was no one at the bar near you when I was done. Janey didn't see anything, either."

Trent observed Daria process the information. While her face remained unchanged, her eyes darted and she clenched one fist. Trent had a feeling her logical mind was working overtime catching up and following dark lines of thought, thoughts that likely mirrored his own from hours ago. He wished he could do something for her, but knew anything he did would do more harm than good. He simply waited.

Eventually her breathing leveled out. She looked a little calmer. "Ok," she started. "I'm going to take a shower. I always need one after one of your shows, but now… especially." Trent remained silent. Daria still hadn't left the couch. He was in no rush, no position to pressure her. She sat for several more minutes before repeating "Ok" and finally stood. She took a step toward him. "Um, Trent?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for, you know, helping me last night. It's nice to know I can trust you."

Trent sat still, taken aback. Only after he heard the water running did he shift. He had wondered for a while if Daria considered him a friend the way he did her. He finally got his answer.

Trent hoped he handled it ok. Jane would talk to Daria for sure, and he wondered if Daria would talk to her mother. He hoped so.