Nobody's interested in sweetness and light. - Hedda Hopper
~lalaLAlala~
"I think I'm finally finding out what it feels like to be a Lane," Daria said to Jane with a modicum of happiness – they were having this conversation at school, so she couldn't show too much.
"That can't be," Jane objected lightly, a smirk on her face. "It's only afternoon and you're already out of bed."
"Trent would be hurt to hear you say that," Daria quipped.
"Mm," Jane agreed. "The reminder of days of yore, when he was in bed when I came home from school."
"Actually, I was referring to the lack of tiresome parental involvement," Daria stated. "Mine have been so busy lately that they've completely forgotten to force me into some dumb summer activity. Am I turning into you?"
"No, we're just being hit with some irony," Jane answered. "Because I've got summer plans."
"What?"
"An old commune friend of my mother's runs an artist's colony," Jane explained. "I've been accepted into their summer programme."
"Okay, one: congratulations. This will be really good for you," Daria said sincerely.
"Thanks," Jane answered. "When you list a 'one' though, there's usually a 'two' that follows it."
Daria nodded. "Two: I'm going to miss you like hell while you're gone," she stated.
Jane smirked. "You'll be too busy with Trent, I'm sure," she teased happily.
"Three," Daria continued.
Jane blinked in surprise. "You normally don't go that far," she noted.
"Three," Daria repeated. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I didn't want to jinx it," Jane admitted with a shrug. "It's going to be two months of painting and sculpting my black little heart out in a college town in the middle of nowhere, starting this weekend!"
"Does this college town have a name? Or do you just turn left at the kid with the tractor?" Daria enquired.
"Actually, I'm not entirely sure either," Jane admitted with a chuckle. "I've just got directions. I'll make you a copy when I get home."
"Very much appreciated."
"Daria?" a new voice called, breaking in on their conversation.
"Quinn?" Daria answered in surprise. "What's up? You usually avoid addressing me while on school property."
"My class just got our P-Stat scores back," Quinn explained, "and I'm not happy with my results," she added, and passed over the sheet.
"A solid thousand isn't anything to be ashamed of," Jane pointed out as she peered over Daria's shoulder at the paper.
"I know that," Quinn retorted, "and I know Sandi was probably lying when she said she'd got a thousand and one after I shared my score, but I'm sure I could do better than this."
Daria nodded. "You can," she agreed. "But you let your obsession with your social life cut in to your study time a bit more often than you should."
"I'm not going to get to study at all over summer unless I tell my friends I'm getting a tutor forced on me," Quinn stated plainly, her voice soft. "I don't actually need a tutor, but it will be enough of an excuse."
"And if I'm tutoring you, then Mom won't try and force any last-minute summer activities on me, and Dad doesn't have to worry about paying for one," Daria supplied.
"Take advantage of Casa Lane," Jane advised. "Your friends won't think to call you there."
"It wouldn't bother you?" Quinn asked.
"I am going to an art colony for the summer," Jane replied. "You can use Penny's room. She won't be back for another ten years or so. Or the sound-proof basement if Daria and Trent get to doing anything loud."
"And if you actually do need help with something, then I'll be in yelling range," Daria added. "Unless I'm in the soundproof part of the basement, recording."
"Thanks Daria," Quinn said.
"You're welcome. After all, this keeps Mom off both of our backs, and you know I'm all in favour of you using the brain you were born with," Daria answered.
Quinn shuddered. "Ugh, holiday activities," she agreed. "Mr O'Neill asked for volunteer counsellors at his 'Okay to Cry Corral' when class ended."
"Sounds like an extension of his self-esteem course, but for younger kids," Daria remarked as she looked over at Jane.
All three girls shuddered.
~lalaLAlala~
"May second?" Jake read on the waffle packet he'd just eaten four waffles from. "Hey! It's June! These waffles have expired!"
"Relax Jake," Helen countered calmly. "That's a sell by date, they've been frozen since then. They're fine."
"Easy for you to say! You didn't just eat four poisoned waffles!" Jake snapped back.
"Mom's right," Daria joined in. "Besides, there isn't really all that much in waffles that can poison you."
"It's June?" Helen asked, catching up with the date all of a sudden. "Oh my gosh. Daria, what are you doing this summer?"
"Don't worry, I have a job."
"Really?" Helen enquired, disbelieving. "And what is this job?" she pressed.
"I'm sorry, but the confidentiality agreement I signed with the government prevents me from answering that," Daria responded flatly.
"Wow!" Jake said, impressed.
Helen gave him a flat, unimpressed Look.
"I mean, uh, wow, funny joke Daria!" Jake corrected himself quickly.
"I'm serious Daria," Helen stated, turning her attention back to her eldest child. "I'm not going to let you sit around the house all summer."
"And I don't intend to," Daria agreed, then sighed and pulled out a note pad from her pocket. "I intend to make some headway on the business plan Dad helped me create," she read off as she ran a finger down the list. "I intend to spend time with Trent learning how to fix a car engine -"
"I didn't know Trent knew that," Helen said softly.
"He's taking a course, and he's going to teach me when he gets back each day, to make sure what he was taught is properly fixed in his mind," Daria explained.
"And as well as all that, Daria is going to be tutoring me this summer," Quinn added as she walked into the kitchen.
"Quinn?" Helen queried, confused.
"I'm not happy with my P-Stat scores, so I asked Daria to tutor me over the break," Quinn explained.
"And we'll be doing that at Trent's, so the study can't be interrupted by phone calls," Daria finished.
"Oh," Helen said softly. "Well... Good for you girls, though Quinn, you should be doing more with your summer than just studying, though I am proud of you for making that commitment."
"I'm going to go for my driver's licence as well," Quinn replied quickly.
"Alright," Helen allowed.
"Good for you," Jake added with a smile. "Want me to find you a car like I did for Daria?"
"I'm sure Jane could be convinced to do anther paint-job," Daria added. "When she gets back form the art colony."
"I'd really like a convertible," Quinn offered hesitantly, aware that convertibles weren't really something that could be gotten cheaply, but she did want a cool car, as much as she didn't want to cause her father any more stress that might lead to another heart attack.
"I'll see what I can find," Jake promised.
~lalaLAlala~
What Jake found was a gutted Mustang. The body was fine, no rust spots anywhere, but there was no engine, the seats were all torn, and the tires were flat.
"Jane is going to love this," Daria said when the tow-truck hauled Quinn's new car into the Morgendorffer drive way.
"It doesn't have an engine!" Quinn pointed out.
"That can be corrected," Daria answered with a smile.
"Oh, right, you and Trent are doing that auto-repairs thing," Quinn recalled.
"Dad, we're gonna need your plastic to buy the parts," Daria stated.
With a concerned expression, Jake held out his Gold Card to his eldest.
"Don't worry," Daria reassured him. "Part of Trent's course is how to source parts for cheap. We'll take out a cash advance. The dealers give discounts if you pay in cash." And she'd also get the parts Trent needed for his car, as her contribution to the 'improve the Plymouth' birthday present plan that Jane had set out when Jake bought the Mini and the bug.
Quinn took refuge in the soundproofed section of the Lane basement to study while Daria and Trent alternated between working on the cars, working on their music, and occasionally taking time out to just quietly sit very closely and enjoy that closeness.
On the day of, Daria insisted on dragging Trent into his room and giving him a very thorough birthday kiss, even if the very idea of it had set a colony of butterflies to fluttering madly in her stomach. The way Trent had groaned in appreciative frustration had settled those butterflies and put a smile on her face.
A couple of days after that, they were taking a break from the cars and having a drink of water when Trent spotted an ice cream truck rolling down the street.
"Hey," he said, and pointed it out. "Want a scoop?"
"I could go for that," she agreed. "You hail the van, I'll get the money and ask Quinn if she's interested."
Trent nodded in agreement, and stood from the front step of his house.
Daria ducked inside.
"Quinn!" Daria called as she headed down.
"Huh? Oh, hey Daria," Quinn answered. "How's it going?"
"Taking a break," Daria replied. "There's an ice cream van in the street. Interested?"
"God yes," Quinn declared and pushed herself up from the table she'd been working at.
Daria smiled. "Might be an idea to pull something on," she advised.
"Ha ha," Quinn retorted. "It's hot down here!"
"That could be Mrs Lane's kiln," Daria offered as she threw Quinn's t-shirt at her. "But there is a reason none of the equipment gets stored down here. It's sound-proof, not heat-proof."
"Right," Quinn agreed, and pulled her top back on. She'd been sitting there in only her bra and skirt, sweating as she studied. Yet another reason Daria was the one who'd gone to tell Quinn about the ice cream instead of Trent. She had an ice-chest full water next to her study-spot, but that just kept her hydrated, not cool.
Daria grabbed a few of the bills that were spare from the cash advances she and Trent had taken on Jake's Gold Card and the two sisters headed back up and outside.
"Ugh, it's just as hot out here as it is down in the basement," Quinn complained.
"Ice cream to the rescue then," Daria said, only to blink in surprise at the person who was in the ice cream truck. "Mack?"
"Hey Daria," Mack replied tiredly. "Man, am I glad it's not a horde of kids this time. What can I get you guys?"
"Snow-cones," Quinn answered quickly. "I'd like lemonade flavoured, please. It is way too hot for anything else."
"I'll have lime syrup on my snow-cone if you've got it," Trent put in.
"Daria?" Mack asked.
"Same as Quinn," Daria answered.
"One lime and two lemonade snow-cones," Mack agreed. "I gotta say, I think this is the first street I've stopped in where I wasn't suddenly and immediately swamped by yelling, bratty kids."
"All the kids in this street got sent to that 'Okay to Cry Corral' that O'Neill runs," Trent said with a shake of his head. "Give it five minutes with the music going though, and you'll get some more customers about my age."
"Hey, ice cream," a voice called in approval. "How perfect for a day like today."
"Hey Mom," Trent greeted when he turned and saw her exiting the house. "Everything out of the kiln?"
Amanda nodded. "And it's shut off," she added. "I do apologise for the heat down in the basement Quinn," she said.
"It's not like it's any cooler out here Mrs Lane," Quinn pointed out as she ate her snow-cone.
"True," Amanda agreed with a sigh.
"Can I get you anything ma'am?" Mack asked politely.
"I think I'd like a nice big scoop of strawberry ripple in a waffle cone," Amanda decided after a moment of consideration.
"Coming right up," Mack agreed.
More people filtered out of their houses slowly as the ice cream truck sat there, its music playing, and Mack serving scoops to sedate customers. Quinn, Daria and Trent all came back for a second snow-cone each before they returned to their previous occupations – study for Quinn, and working on car engines for Daria and Trent.
"This has got to be my most successful stop all week," Mack declared with a relieved smile as he closed up the back of the van and climbed into the cabin. "Lots of sales, and no snotty kids to deal with. Thanks for hailing me down."
"No problem," Trent agreed with a smile. "The snow-cones were good."
"Come back again tomorrow," Daria suggested.
"I'll do that," Mack promised.
~lalaLAlala~
The Mustang was ready to move under its own power by the half-way point of the summer holidays. It wouldn't be the most comfortable ride, but Quinn was prepared to suffer through that, if it meant she could get her car to Jane to get a makeover.
Daria called ahead while Trent loaded Jane's airbrushing paints and equipment into the back of her Mini. They were going to make a convoy of it. Daria in the Mini, Trent in his Plymouth, and Quinn in her new Mustang. Daria's Mini would show off to the art colony just how talented Jane was, while the Plymouth and the Mustang would get to be her next canvases. Yes, Trent had finally caved to the idea of getting his car to look good now that he had it working properly.
Quinn was the one that had bugged him about it.
"Boy am I glad to be hearing from you, Amiga," Jane said when she answered the phone.
"The colony sucks, huh?" Daria queried.
"Only in a mind-numbingly pretentious kind of way," Jane answered.
"Do you think a familiar face might brighten the experience?" Daria suggested.
"Yes. God, yes," was Jane's firm and fervent response.
"Then you'll be getting three, and two rolling canvasses," Daria informed her friend with a smile.
"Two? Daria?"
"Quinn's got a Mustang convertible, and she's willing to pay you to give it a makeover," Daria explained. "And as I recall, you were going to attack Trent's Plymouth with your paint for his birthday?" she added lightly.
"Yes!" Jane cheered. "And a Mustang? Damn, how much did that set Jake back?"
"He got the car for two bucks, but it didn't have an engine at all," Daria explained. "He then surrendered his Gold Card to me for cash advances, and Trent and I have been bonding over the build."
Jane laughed. "That's great, Amiga," she said happily. "Now when can I expect you up?"
"We'll be at the colony by tonight, and we're bringing all your airbrushing stuff," Daria said.
"Thanks. I'll need that. This is gonna be great."
"See ya."
"Adios Amiga," Jane agreed, and Daria could hear the smile.
~lalaLAlala~
"Um... who's the guy that forgot to do his beard when he bleached his head?" Quinn asked with an arched brow shortly after Jane greeted them.
"Oh, that's Daniel," Jane answered with all the sarcastic fawning she could get into two-and-a-half syllables worth of name. "Otherwise known at Mr Dotson. He's rumoured to go through students like I go through paint."
"Okay, ew," Quinn said frankly.
"Seconded," Daria agreed.
"Janey, he hasn't tried with you, has he?" Trent asked dangerously.
"Nah, I'm too obviously jail-bait," she answered with a dismissive wave. "Besides, I can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for ten minutes together. He's very big on the self-congratulatory yap."
"And very small on everything else?" Quinn guessed wryly.
"All that study seems to have been good for your cynicism and sarcasm reflexes," Daria noted approvingly.
"What can I say? I've had a good tutor," Quinn quipped.
The Lane siblings both chuckled in appreciation of the Morgendorffer sisters and their light banter – after all, they all knew that Daria hadn't been tutoring Quinn as much as they both claimed to Helen.
"Now, on to more important topics," Jane declared, and turned to the cars. "What do you have in mind for your Mustang? I could play on the name, maybe do a herd of horses running along the sides."
"Hmm," Quinn hummed thoughtfully. "That could be cute, but I want something I'll still be comfortable with when I'm not in high school any more, and 'cute' is something that people can't seem to pull off after a certain age."
"Well, red, blue and black are all classic Mustang colours," Jane offered.
"Not black," Quinn said instantly. "It may go with everything, but it's too dark for me, and I don't really want to go in for primaries too much. What about purple?" she suggested.
Jane looked from Quinn to the car and back a few times, and stroked her chin with her hand in thought. "Purple would work," she agreed. "I'll mix Mustang Sally with the Hanson brothers. I think you'll be able to live with that?"
"Oh, to live with the Hanson brothers themselves," Quinn cooed dreamily. "They are all so cute – and each in a different way to the other..."
Jane smirked at that little titbit. "Any preference for the interior?"
"Easy to clean," Quinn answered at once. "In case of make-up spills."
"Fortunately, I have access to all sorts of materials for no extra charge while I'm here, so I think I should be able to give you a white leather interior," she offered speculatively. "Don't hold me to that, but I'll try."
"That would be really cool," Quinn agreed.
"Leave it to me. Oh, and don't let any of the artists here treat you to a meal and a drink," Jane warned. "They're only doing it to get into your pants."
"What?!"
"Jane?" Daria said lowly.
"Who?" Trent demanded with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"I was hit on by a woman and requested to doubt my orientation," Jane answered. "I got the hell out as soon as I figured it out. My virtue remains intact."
Brother and best friend alike both relaxed.
"Now, the Plymouth... D'you want to keep it blue, bro?"
"As long as you don't make it pink or yellow, I'm not too fussed," Trent said with an easy shake of his head. "You know me, I trust your judgement."
"Right," Jane agreed. "Daria, I'm going to need you to pose on the hood with Trent after I've given the car it's initial coat of paint."
"Do I dare ask why?" Daria queried with amusement.
"You're gonna be a silhouette," Jane answered with a smile. "Nah, I'm kidding."
Trent got vague hints of blue-and-green sunsets on a mirror-shiny black for his car's new paint job, and Jane re-covered the seats in midnight faux-suede once she'd finished painting everything. She got quite a bit of praise for her 'car art' too.
On the other hand, a number of the other artists were enjoying the effects of the berries she'd brought along, and the inspiration those berries gave them for their art... Well, as could be suspected of a college town filled with wannabe artists, the underhanded hallucinogenic trade was proving to be extremely lucrative.