Hey, what's up you guys? Time for another (very) delayed update! My two excuses for my tardiness: finals and my other stories. A writer's job is never done, or something smart like that. I want to thank all of you awesome Daria/Trent nerds out there who reviewed and supported the story, I am very grateful :) Thanks also to the people who don't necessarily fall into that category :))

I decided to make Fire! into 3 parts instead of 2. I know, you're doing a happy dance already...or not. I hope you like this short chapter, it's the calm before the storm. :)

Please tell me what you think.

14: Fire! (part II)

'Open the door, Morgendorffer, it's school time!' Jane yelled, knocking loudly on Penny's door, tapping her foot impatiently.

Trent stirred under the covers he didn't know he had pulled over his head.

It smelt like peppers and papaya. He sniffed confused. Penny? Why was he in Penny's room? Good God, was he having that nightmare again? He had walked in on a half-naked Penny once and he had never been able to live it down.

He yawned in his fist and raised himself. His body felt stiff. The mattress hadn't been particularly comfortable. And he realized he was wearing the same clothes as last night. Typical. He needed a shower.

'Daria! I'm coming in!'

It's at that point that Trent remembered why he was here and who should have been here instead.

Shit!

Without a second thought, he bent down and crawled under the bed, as he saw his sister slowly part the door.

Jane surveyed the room mystified.

'I could have sworn I heard some noise...' she mumbled. Her eyes fell on the bed. Daria had slept there, she figured. She must be somewhere around the house then.

She lingered around for a moment longer, making Trent curse his internal weakness. His entire body itched.

'Daria!' she called, walking out with an air of indecisiveness.

He let out a breath and quickly snuck out, finding refuge in Wind's bedroom. He listened carefully to Jane walking around the house.

She had gone down to the kitchen. He heard her slam the fridge door.

He relaxed a little bit. She hadn't discovered him. He didn't know how that would have ended. Probably bad.

Jane had started washing some dishes. He frowned. She never did that. Something must be off.

Ever so carefully he climbed down the stairs with the intent to get to his room unnoticed, but as he slipped past the kitchen door, he heard Jane grunt.

'Yo, Trent,' she called out. 'Why are you up so early?'

He winced. She had a way of sensing him even when he was being as quiet as the wooden floors. He supposed years of living with him would do that to a person.

He sighed and popped his head in the doorway.

'Hangover,' he mumbled shaking his head.

She raised an eyebrow. 'You got drunk last night?'

'Jess came over and we had some beers,' he lied.

'I didn't hear Jess' car.'

'You're a heavy sleeper.'

'I didn't hear him leave either.'

'What's with the suspicion, mom?' he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

'I am only pointing out some logical facts. Nothing more, nothing less.'

'You don't handle logic well,' he shot back.

'I sense you are lying to me,' she continued undeterred. 'I just don't know what about. But you're acting strange, my friend.'

'Really?'

'Yes, and soon I will discover your horrible secret.'

'I stashed the body same place you'll never look,' he joked.

'Mock me all you want now, but you will eat your words someday.'

Trent nodded his head sleepily. 'Why are you washing the dishes, anyways?'

'I don't know. I felt like doing it. Plus, Tom is coming over after school and I don't want him doing it,' she explained awkwardly.

'Doing what? Washing the dishes? When has he ever done that?'

'He did it once or twice, he said the place was a mess...' Jane trailed off, looking around, lost.

'He does have a point, but we like it that way, don't we?'

'For the most part,' she said, going back to her dishes. 'Man, the grease on these is three months old.'

'If only we could afford a maid...' Trent commented.

'Bourgeois much?' Jane drawled.

'If that's some fancy word for snob, I'll take it. I'm gonna go...back to sleeping,' he said, pointing at his room.

'Back to sleep, huh? But you came the other way,' she pointed out, showing him the direction to his room.

Damn. She's good.

'Yeah...well I went to have a drink...of water in the bathroom,' he explained awkwardly. Thank God the bathroom was there.

'You didn't puke on mom's blazer again, did you?' Jane asked accusatorily.

'Hmm...we really should pick that up from the floor,' he commented. 'But no, I hit my target this time.'

He yawned heavily and backed away imperceptibly, hoping she wouldn't stall him anymore.

When she was out of earshot, he rushed to his room and shut the door behind him relieved. It was always a comfort to be back here, no matter how bleak and empty it was.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly and pulled off his shirt in one fluid motion. He didn't have the same dexterity with his pants and he ended up sitting on the bed, fumbling with his zipper.

Someone stirred behind him. He froze.

Was it the mice again? It couldn't be. He had used up all his poison last month.

Some racoon?

He heard a soft mewling.

He looked over his shoulder with the corner of his eye. He doubled up.

Daria's small figure was sleeping on the other side of the bed, her nose buried in his pillow, her hair sprawled over her back like a wild mane.

She had pulled the covers over her, but he knew she had the Mark Twain T-shirt on. And that T-shirt was not all that long, so she was a bit naked under the sheets. He wasn't thinking like a pervert, he was just trying to add up the fact that she was sleeping in his bed with a lame excuse for a pyjama.

There was a sense of irony in all of this he just couldn't grasp, but he knew he would later.

He just hoped he wouldn't have to pull the covers off of her. That would be really awkward since he was half-naked as well.

It got more awkward, however.

The door flew open, all of a sudden. Crap, why hadn't he locked it as usual?

But he had special training for this. In a split second he managed to pull the covers over Daria's head and stretch across her body in order to hide her frame.

Jane's eyes flew immediately to the lump in the bed. Trent rested his head against Daria's stomach as if she were a pillow, praying she wouldn't move or stir as long as his sister was in the room.

'Did you finally buy yourself a man-pillow?' Jane asked amused.

'I happen to...sleep with my guitar sometimes,' he mumbled hastily. 'What do you want?'

Jane didn't seem convinced. She shrugged her shoulders.

'You're a little creep.'

'And proud of it.'

'Listen, Tom just called, he's taking me to a party at his place, so I'm not going to be here tonight. I'm letting you know since last time I was gone, you decided to drive to his house, which was, no doubt, very sweet of you, but I'd like to prevent that from happening again. I left you some pasta in the fridge. Will you be okay?'

She had said all of this so fast that he could only nod in resignation. He couldn't exactly stall her in his current position. He was bothered by the fact that Tom was still playing the relationship game with his sister, but this wasn't a very good moment to breach a delicate subject like that, not when Jane knew nothing of his conversations with Tom, or the fact that Daria was sleeping under him.

'Um, be safe and stuff,' he said, eyeing her carefully.

'Yeah, I'll leave a phone number. Well, I'll let you get back to your guitar fondling...'

She was about to walk out, but she remembered something.

'By the way, have you seen Daria? I've been looking for her everywhere and I can't find her.'

Trent could feel the sweat prickling his forehead.

Don't give in now...

'Maybe she went to school early.'

'Nah, her bag's still in the living room. And that's not her usual style...'

'Maybe she made an exception today... I don't know...' he trailed off, trying to sound nonchalant.

'Hmm. I'll go check again. I hope she's alright.'

'Hey, you should call the hotel,' Trent suddenly said. 'Maybe she went back there.'

He knew this would buy them some time. Janey took forever on the phone.

'Huh, good idea I guess. You should get drunk with Jess more often,' she said and left the room, leaving the door open.

When he heard her walk away, he jumped off the bed and hauled towards the door. He locked it tightly.

Okay, now what?

He didn't see any stirring from the bed. What if there was something wrong? Was she ill? Had he accidentally suffocated her? He shook his head. That was stupid, even for him.

He sat down next to her and touched her shoulder tentatively.

She was very warm. He shook her gently.

'Daria...hey, Daria...Dar-'

All of a sudden, she pulled the covers off of her and released a long breath.

Trent almost jumped out of his skin.

'Jesus Christ! You were awake all this time?'

Daria winced at him groggily.

'As it happens, your head on my stomach is not that comfortable,' she commented dryly.

Trent was sure his cheeks were burning like he was back in third grade.

'And...your guitar? Really?' she asked.

'You have to admire the creativity,' he said, smiling briefly.

'Yeah, especially since your guitar is in plain sight,' she pointed at the other corner of his room where the guitar was visibly placed on a shelf.

Trent laughed hoarsely.

'God damn it...'

Daria chuckled. 'You're getting old.'

Trent stared at her surprised. He hadn't been ready for that remark and now he felt somewhere between sad and offended. He tried to shake it off, but he knew he words were like a sharp needle, picking at his brain without mercy.

Daria quickly realized she had put her foot in it.

'Oh, uh, I meant...well, you know what I meant. Not old age-wise. You're still a kid,' she corrected herself.

He raised an eyebrow.

'I mean an older kid,' she corrected herself again, blushing slightly.

'That sounds kinda pathetic,' he commented looking down.

Daria patted his shoulder awkwardly.

'It would be pathetic if you were a younger adult,' she joked.

He smirked and glanced at her with something undeciphrable in his eyes. She glanced back.

Maybe it was true what they said in those low-budget movies; that these are the best moments of the day.

And then they both realized they were in bed, he was half-naked and she was bare-legged.

It was too bad they were both paralyzed.

The strange thing was that they were aware they couldn't move. They knew one single gesture could either break it or make it, so they were content to wait for something to happen as long as they didn't have to actually do anything.

They sat like that for three minutes. It was unnerving.

Luckily, though, Daria still liked to be on time for school, so she snapped out of her trance.

She slid off the bed as if she were a child and almost knocked herself against some useless crap Trent had dumped on the floor. She massaged her knee briefly.

'Jane is probably worried, I'd better make an appearance,' she said.

'Good idea,' he said, getting up as well, struggling to find the right words to continue the awkward conversation.

'Um, sorry about the bed switch,' he finally said. 'I shouldn't have fallen asleep like an idiot.'

'It's okay. It's your house and I don't mind. I should have probably found another room. In my defence, I was...sleep deprived and stressed.'

'Hey, your house almost burnt down and you got stuck with...your sister,' he said, not recalling her name. 'I'd be stressed too. Well, I'd probably start living in the Tank.'

She smiled.

'Trent the nomad,' she quipped.

'Something like that.'

It was getting awkward between them again.

She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another.

'Well... I guess you should go,' he said, scratching his head.

'You locked the door,' she reminded him.

He slapped his forehead.

Stop losing your shit, you dumbass, he thought annoyed.

'Course...' he mumbled and went to unlock his door, his fingers conveniently more slippery than usual.

'Thanks,' she said as she walked out, and the smile she gave him made him think she was not just grateful for the door.

As soon as she was gone, he threw himself on the bed and closed his eyes.

He was going to sleep and think it over this afternoon...or tonight, depending on his ability to wake up again.

He popped one eye open.

Damn. The sheets smelled like her.