Babylon

by slincoln

Ten years after High School...

2. Chapter 2, Saturday

Babylon: A Daria Fan Fiction

By: Sam Lincoln (sam@cosmic-hippo.org)

Disclaimers: Don't own Daria, never have probably never will. The song Babylon was written by David Gray, lyrics copyright owned by Iht Records, reprinted without permission.

Soundtrack: David Gray 9/24/2000. David Gray is an awesome singer/songwriter definitely check his stuff out, email me and I'll B&P a copy.

"Let go your heart/let go of your head and feel it now."

Babylon

-Chapter 2, Saturday-

The next morning Tom awoke with a groan. It wasn't so much the hangover, which was pretty mild as it was the dull pain all up his left side. He got up and evaluated himself in the mirror.

"Next time you're in a bar fight, duck when someone swings a chair at you." Dark purple bruises ran up and down the left side of his torso. Tom gingerly touched them and winced, "Ok, I'm going to the hospital again, get me some painkillers and maybe some leaches." Tom walked into his bathroom and took some aspirin from his medicine cabinet. He dry-swallowed the pills and started filling the bathtub. While he waited for the tub to fill he wandered into the kitchen and made some breakfast. Tom stared out his window while sipping his coffee, the events of the previous night running through his head.

"So, Daria is in town at an unknown location for an unspecified amount of time. How am I supposed to feel about this?" He frowned because he didn't know the answer to his own question. Certainly the way in which he and Daria had broken up was one of his big regrets. It also was true that Daria posed one of the biggest "what if's" in Tom's life. "What if we hadn't broken up, where would we be?" Tom didn't know the answer to that either. "But do I really want to start a relationship with her again, even if she'd let me?" Tom shook his head, "A hot bath'll clear my mind." He thought, but while returning to the bathroom he stopped at the phone. He punched in a number, and waited for an answer.

"Hi Matt? It's Tom. Look, I need to ask you a favor? What time is it? Uh, I don't know. Oh, 11? Well, most people would consider that late you know. Anyway this is a real simple favor, could you check all the hotels in town and see if a 'Daria Morgendorffer,'" he spelled her name for the person on the other end, "Is staying at any of them. She'd be from New York, age about 28, probably by herself. You will? Great, could you get in touch with me as soon as you know? Call my cell if I'm not here. You've got that number right? Ok, thanks a lot Matt, I owe you. Talk to you later." Tom hung up the phone and walked into the bathroom.

"Daria may or may not hate my guts, and I don't know if I'm still in love with her, but it never hurts to be thorough." He thought to himself as he slipped into the hot water. He quickly drifted back to sleep.

Tom woke up to a cold tub and a ringing phone. Tom scrambled out of the tub and reached for the phone, "Hello?"

"There's a Daria Morgendorffer checked into the Hilton. Residence New York City, single occupant in the room. Need to know how she paid?"

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Ok, she's in room 314. She's staying there until tomorrow. Her phone number is...got a pen?"

"Yeah, give it to me." Tom wrote the number down.

"Want to know anything else?"

"No, but thanks Matt, I owe you."

"And I will call you on that too. Remember, we never had this conversation."

"What conversation? See you around Matt."

"Take it easy Tom." The line went dead.

"So, now I know," Tom said to no one in particular. Then he remembered he was standing in his living room, naked and dripping wet. "Good thing I don't have any roommates." Tom dried himself off and got ready to face the remainder of the day. After getting dressed he made a second pot of coffee and sat on the deck of his apartment. He looked out across the London skyline, trying to find an answer in the old city's silhouette.

"It'd be easy enough to call her, but would that send the wrong message? I don't want her to think I'm obsessing over her or anything like that" He paused, "of course I did just have a hacker find out where she's staying. But there's a difference between gathering information and acting on it." He sighed, "Come on Tom, shit or get off the pot, it's not that hard a choice." He looked down at the piece of paper he had written the information on. "I think it'd be best if I just let this stay the way it is. At least this way she won't be filing any injunctions against me." He turned the paper over but did not throw it out. He chuckled, "I wonder what Ian would have to say about all this?"

"I'd say you need to start locking your front door." Ian said from behind Tom. He walked over to where Tom sat and dropped into a nearby deck chair. "But I am glad to know that you think of me when looking for guidance in times of personal crises, I am a font of wisdom after all."

"The same font that insulted a group of Royal Marines last night?"

Ian shrugged, "They had it coming. So, what is it you're having the big internal debate over?"

"I'll tell you only after you tell me what you're doing here. Oh and the eye's looking much better by the way."

"Thanks, liberal use of leaches cleared it right up. As for why I'm here, well you seemed like you wanted to keep on talking last night, and I definitely wasn't in the mood to listen to you prattle, now I am."

Tom chuckled, "Ok, fair enough, as I'm sure you could guess it was about Daria." He handed Ian the piece of paper, "I did what you said and had Matt track her down."

"And now you're wavering on calling her. Jesus, you are a consistent bastard I'll give you that."

"Well, it is a hard choice. I mean I don't want her to think I'm stalking her or anything."

"Bullshit, you're just too scared to call her."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"That is a fucking bullshit answer you just gave, 'don't want to look like a stalker.' Please, she's the one who came to London, she's the one who walked by your apartment, if anyone's the stalker, it's her. Besides you almost have to call her."

"Why, just because I know the hotel she's at?"

"No, you dense fuck, because I'll bet you left things hanging last night when you came to bail me out right?"

Tom smacked his forehead, "Damnit, I told her I'd be right back."

"See, you have to call her, if for no other reason than to apologize for your atrocious manners last night."

Tom sighed, "Yeah, you're right, ok, I'll call her."

"Excellent, now where's that pot of fine Colombian brew you always have going?"

"In the kitchen like always," Tom waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

"Very good, let me go avail myself of the java and then I'll coach you while you talk to Daria." Ian called out as he walked into the kitchen.

"You're British, you should be drinking tea." Tom shouted at Ian.

"F.O.A.D. my friend," Ian replied, punctuating the comeback with an extended middle finger. "Sometimes you need coffee." He returned to the balcony, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "And today I need coffee in a bad way."

Tom chuckled, "The mighty drinker has a hangover?"

Ian shook his head, "Nah, more post concussion syndrome than anything else. I didn't drink that much."

"And normal people usually duck when someone tries to bash their brains out with a table leg."

Ian shrugged, "I'm confident my head is hard enough to resist any damage. Now quit stalling and call the damn woman."

"Alright, jeez, keep your pants on, and I mean that literally." Tom reached for the cordless phone sitting on the table next to him. Just as he put his hand on it the phone started ringing.

Tom and Ian stared at each other, neither one quite comprehending the odd coincidence.

"Well, are you going to answer it?" Ian demanded, "Because if you won't I will and you won't like that at all, believe you me."

Tom raised the phone to his ear, "Ok, I'm answering it. Hello?" he asked the phone.

"Well, well, if it isn't my expatriate brother. What took you so long to answer, sleeping off a bender?"

"Why hello there Elsie, how good to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Ian looked up from his coffee when he heard Tom say Elsie's name. "The fair Elsie is on the phone? Give it here I want to say hello." He reached out for the phone.

Tom batted away Ian's hand, "Knock it off, I'm trying to talk to my sister," He realized Elsie was trying to say something, "What was that Elsie? Bit of static on my end."

Elsie sighed, "I was trying to answer your question. A couple days ago Mom handed me this letter."

"When did you see Mom?"

"A couple of says ago, like I said. Jesus are you even paying attention?"

"Obviously I am if I thought to ask, mom's still living in Lawndale and you're in Boston."

"But how do you know that's still true? It's not like you keep in touch."

"That's the second time in as many days someone has used that argument on me, and this time I'm not buying it. If you had moved, you would have said something. If Mom and Dad had moved I know I would've heard about it. Now can you stop giving me a hard time and get on with it."

"What's got you in such a rush?"

"I've got company over."

"Let me guess, Ian."

Tom frowned, "Well, yes, but I don't see why that matters, company is company."

Ian heard Tom say his name. "Elsie is asking for me? Oh happy day! Now I must speak with her. It is imperative you hand me that phone."

Tom sighed, "Elsie hang on a sec, I'm going to put you on speaker." He pushed a button on the phone and placed it on the table. "Ok, go ahead Ian."

"Hello Elsie, how does this day treat you, oh fair American flower?"

Tom was sure he could hear Elsie roll her eyes, "Hello Ian, I'm doing well. Now can I talk to my brother in private?"

"Of course, whatever you need oh fair one. I'll be in the living room," he informed Tom. "Farewell sweet Elsie, you will never be far from my thoughts." He walked back into the apartment, coffee cup in hand.

Tom picked the phone up, "He's gone."

"Damnit Tom, why do you do shit like that? You know the guy puts me on edge."

"Oh come on Elsie, Ian means well."

"When I visited last year all he ever did was drool on me. It wasn't exactly appealing."

"Feel flattered you're the only person I've ever seen him spend this long pining for."

"Oh wonderful, so I'm the object of desire of a British lech, my life is complete."

"He's not that badwell ok, he is. If he's really bothering you tell him to fuck off. He can take a hint."

"I didn't say he was bothering me" Elsie trailed off.

Tom sighed, "Mom handed you a letter?" He prompted.

"Hm? Yeah, a couple of days ago, she was in Boston to attend some conference. The letter reads as follows. 'Dear Fielding Alumnus. Can you believe it's been ten years since we last walked the hallowed halls of our beloved Fielding Academy"

Tom groaned, "Elsie, no."

She continued, "So dust off your Old Navy Performance Fleece, dig your Abercrombie cargo pants our of storage and get ready to get down with Britney Spears and Eminem because it's time for the Class of 2001's tenth reunion.' And then it goes on with RSVP information, but I'm sure you've read all that."

"Yes, I have, and no I am not going."

"Come on Tom, Mom really wants you to go."

"Why? It's not like I have any love for Fielding."

"What about Mom then?" Elsie shot back, "For fuck's sake Tom she hasn't seen you in two fucking years! Could you forget this exile thing for just a couple of days for her?"

"She's more than welcome to visit me here."

Elsie sighed, "You are an intensely stubborn son of a bitch, did you know that. Come on, it would just be for a couple of days and you wouldn't even have to stay at home. If you wanted to avoid Dad you could, although he wants to see you as much as Mom does."

Tom massaged the bridge of his nose, "And so I should just drop everything and rush home? Is that how a Sloane is supposed to act?"

"First of all you're full of shit if you say you're too busy. That pet software company of yours can survive a couple of days without you puttering around doing nothing. Second why the hell should you give a flying fuck about what a Sloane should do? I thought you were the anti-Sloane."

"I'm not going to win this argument am I?"

"Not on your life big brother."

"Well tell mom that you put up a good fight but I'm steadfast in my refusal. I've had enough Lawndale reunions lately."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I ran into Daria last night." Tom said simply.

"Daria? As in Daria Morgendorffer Daria?"

"Yes."

"As in the Daria you dumped another girl to be with?"

"That's a peculiar interpretation, but yes."

"The Daria you preceded to cheat on just a scant year later?"

Tom frowned, "Yes, and why do you need all this clarification anyway? How many Darias do you think I know." He asked annoyed.

"Oh, just Daria Morgendorffer. I just like to hear you admit to being a jackass." Tom could see the sickly sweet smile on his sister's face as she said this. "I mean you fucked up in almost every conceivable way with her."

"Yes, that I did, a fact she reminded me of last night."

Elsie chuckled, "I'll bet. So tell me, was Jane there?"

"No, thank god. That would have been beyond awkward."

"And they're not, like, living together or anything?"

"No, Jane's still in Lawndale and Daria's living in New York. Why are you asking?"

"Well, those two always seemed to be close, real close, if you know what I mean."

"Yes Elsie I"

"Really, really, really, really, really close," Else said cutting Tom off. "I'm talking so close"

"Elsie," Tom said testily, "They aren't lesbians."

"Oh, you sure about that?"

"Positive, why, thinking about a lifestyle change?"

"No, it's just, well never mind. I'm sorry I brought it up."

"You know, we could tell Ian that you're gay."

"I think he'd either try to 'convert' me back , or demand to watch me in action. Pass on both accounts."

Tom laughed, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"So how did it go?"

"How did what go?"

"Your little Algonquin Round Table with Daria. Were any drinks thrown?"

"No, nothing like that, I just got a stern verbal lashing, and then" He trailed off.

"And then?"

"A riot broke out in the club and we got separated."

"A riot?"

"Yes."

"In the bar?"

"In the club, yes."

"You were interrupted by a riot, in a night club."

"Yes, well we weren't so much interrupted as I helped start the riot."

"You were talking to Daria."

"Yes."

"And then you instigated a riot?"

"Well, yes."

"Why on earth would you do a damn fool thing like that?"

"Because I was trying to get Ian out of a scrape with some Royal Marines."

"So, you got into a fight with the Royal Marines?"

"Not all of them."

"Well, that makes all the difference in the world."

"I'm glad you think so."

"Did you even say goodbye to Daria?"

"Uh, no I wasn't I planning on having to evade the police."

"Do you have her phone number?"

"Actually yes."

"You ninny, why don't you" Elsie paused, "You actually have her phone number?" Her disbelief was evident.

"Yes, I do."

"Wait a second, did you ask her for the number?"

"No."

"No, of course you didn't. So how did you get it?"

"Called in a favor with a hacker friend of mine."

"It figures, still you got her number. Have you called her yet to apologize?"

"No, you called just as I was going to."

"Then why are you still talking to me. Go call her."

"Because you're my sister and I haven't talked to you in ages."

"Oh fuck that, we can talk later. You've got a small window of opportunity here Tom, don't blow it."

"Alright, talk to you later Elsie."

"Take care Tom. And please, think about coming for that reunion. It would mean a hell of a lot to Mom, she does miss you."

"Ok, I'll think about it, but I'm not committing myself to going."

"Sure, fine, at least call Mom and tell her your decision, either way."

Tom nodded, "Ok, I will. Talk to you soon Elsie."

"Good luck with Daria.

Tom chuckled, "Thanks."

"Bye Tom."

"Bye Elsie." Tom shut the phone off. He picked up the paper with Daria's number on it. "Well, it's now or never, take the plunge." He dialed the number, then waited, and waited. He let the phone ring until the hotel's voice mail system picked up.

"Fuck!" Tom cursed as he turned off the phone, without leaving a message. He walked into the living room, a dejected look on his face.

"So, how is Elsie doing?" Ian asked.

Tom shrugged, "Don't know, we had other things to talk about."

"Such as?"

"Such as my attendance at my high school class's ten year reunion, and Daria."

"What did she have to say about her?"

"That I should call her."

"Well, what's stopping you?"

"I already tried, she wasn't there. I got voice mail."

"You didn't leave a message did you?"

Tom shook his head, "Didn't know what to say."

"Well, at least you tried, that counts for something."

"What, you're going to accept that on face value?"

"Tom, you're a lousy actor. Plus, I can see through windows as well as the next guy." Ian pointed to the large bay window that overlooked the deck.

"Oh, yeah." Tom sighed, "Oh well, it was a nice idea."

"What? Calling her up, professing your undying love for her and living happily ever after?"

Tom shuffled his feet, "Well, something like that yes."

Ian snorted, "Like that ever happens. Come on man, you know there's no such thing as 'happily ever after.' We just keep on stumbling through, just under different circumstances."

Tom dropped onto his recliner, "Yeah, I know, but you still hope for it."

Ian nodded, "I hear that man."

The two friends sat in silence and watched the sky redden as the sun began to set.

"So I've been meaning to ask, how'd things go with Kristen last night?"

"I nailed her, of course."

"Was she any good?"

"She was a tiger in the sack, absolute firecracker. Best sex I've had in ages."

"Really, so she's worth another date?"

"Oh definitely, unless your sister is available."

"Hey, stay the hell away from my sister. I don't want to hear that shit."

"Can I help it if Elsie is extremely fuckable? I bet she gives great head"

"Ian, shut the fuck up if you want to continue breathing." Tom demanded angrily.

"Ok man, I'm sorry," Ian said, genuinely contrite. "I guess that did go from ha-ha funny to kind of sick in a big hurry."

Tom smiled, "Well, I can't blame you for being yourself now can I?"

"Damn strait, I'm a hunk of prime sex machine, and that's nothing to be ashamed of."

"It depends on how much pride you have I suppose," Tom added dryly.

Ian laughed, "Now that's the Tom Sloane I know. Come on, let's ditch this case of the mopes and get a little pre-rave buzz going."

Tom's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, "How about dinner first then beer?"

"Oh all right, where do you want to go?"

"Pizza sound good to you?"

Ian shrugged, "About as good as anything else." They picked up their jackets and headed for the door. "Oh, and don't let me forget, I have to stop off at the 'pharmacy' before we go to tonight's festivities."

Tom sighed, "Oh come on Ian do you really have to do that?" He asked as they walked down the hall. "I'm sure there will be plenty of goodies at the rave."

Ian shook his head, "No that'll just be that weak-ass herbal shit, I want the real stuff, and the only way to guarantee that is to go to Farkas personally and buy it myself."

Tom shook his had and pushed the call button for the elevator. "Fine, but I'm not going with you, Farkas creeps me the hell out."

"That may be, but he's the best damn quasi-legal druggist in the city." Ian thought for a second, "Tell you what, I'll pick up some pot for you while I'm there." They entered the elevator; Ian pushed the lobby button..

"I don't smoke pot anymore, remember."

"Please don't tell me you haven't thought about toking up after the way last night went."

Tom paused, then sighed, "Ok, get me a little, I can practice meditation after the rave."

"Excellent, you won't regret it. This is going to be a great night." On cue the elevator dinged and the door opened, "After you Tom."

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Tom muttered to himself as they left the building.

The friends at their dinner at a small neighborhood pizzeria. Ian spent the meal explaining why the referees in English football were out to get his favorite team. "It's all a conspiracy," Ian said, "You see they know that Ipswich is the best team out there. But they want precious Manchester United to win so they screw us every possible chance they get." Ian pounded the table to emphasis his point. "Take last week's game for example, that asshole Griggs goes and crashes into our goalie while that pretty-boy Beckam puts the ball into an open net, and the referee refused to call anything! It was blatant, clear as day yet the blind moron didn't make the call. Now you tell me why that would be the case unless they're in cahoots with Man United to get them the cup?"

"Oh, definitely, you can't trust those zebras farther than you can throw them," Tom said trying to figure out how to buy every football team in the country and disband them, just to get Ian to shut up.

"What do zebras have to do with football?" Ian asked, confused.

"It's a term foroh never mind, just eat your pizza." Tom said, sighing.

After dinner they once again hailed a cab and went to a distinctly seedier side of London. The cab pulled to a stop outside a battered storefront. The faded sign read "Farkas' Farmacy." Ian carefully checked to make sure no one was watching him before he ducked inside, Tom followed suit. The interior of the shop was in stark contrast to the dingy exterior. Bright fluorescent lights hummed in the ceiling. The linoleum floors glistened The walls were painted in an antiseptic white. The products for sale were all neatly arranged on the shelves. Ian nodded at the cashier and walked to the back of the store.

"Ahh, Farkas, just the man I wanted to see, I have a script for you to fill." Ian told the man standing behind the pharmacy counter.

"Quiet, not so loud Ian, you never know who might be listening." Fred Farkas was a slight, perpetually worried man. He ran a legitimate pharmacy as a cover for his other illicit activities. His most noticeable feature was his hair, which he let grow long to conceal his other noticeable feature. Namely the fact that he lacked an ear, the result of a business deal with Russian gangsters that soured.

"Oh come on Fred, I'm just here to collect my prescription, what's the harm in that?"

Farkas grabbed Ian by the arm, "Get in the backroom you asshole, before you get us all arrested." Farkas pulled Ian into a room off the store floor; Tom followed, closing the door behind him.

Farkas sat down behind a large desk and motioned for Tom and Ian to sit in the facing chairs. "So what can I get you two gentlemen?"

"Ten hits or so of Ecstasy and a little pot to chase it down."

"Is that all? Shit, I practically could have just filled out a prescription for that."

Ian shrugged, "When have you known me to dabble in anything harder?"

"You never can tell, that's what a lot of my steady customers said, in the beginning."

"Doesn't being a drug dealer bother you at all?" Tom asked.

Farkas examined his had, "Not really, I try not to sell the really nasty stuff. Most of my clients are people like Ian, or long-time heroin users. And I'm very careful with them, I make sure the heroin is as pure as it can be be; plus I don't make it as strong as the other guys. That keeps the OD rate down, and keeps me in business.

"Old Farkas here is one personable drug dealer," Ian added, "So, what's my bill for tonight?"

"Well, let's see, ten Ecstasy tablets"

"Make it sixteen, wouldn't want to run out at an inopportune moment."

"Ok, sixteen hits of Ecstasy plus one?" Ian held up three fingers, "Three grams of pot." Farkas punched some numbers into a calculator, "One hundred sixty seven pounds."

"Cash ok with you?" Ian asked reaching for his wallet.

"Cash is always ok with me." Farkas said, taking the bills from Ian. He reached into his desk and removed some bills, "And here's your change."

"Pleasure doing business with you."

Farkas walked over to a safe and opened it. Inside was a cornucopia of drugs. He removed a large bottle from the safe. Sixteen pills were removed from the bottled and placed into a smaller container. After returning the bottle to its resting place Farkas took another container from the safe.

"Uh Fred, could we have the pot in two bags; a gram in one and two in the other?"

"Ok," Farkas measure out the proper amounts then put the marijuana back in the safe, which he closed. Ian's purchases were placed in a "Farkas Farmacy" bag. "Would you like your receipt in the bag?"

"Sure, that's fine."

Farkas handed the bag to Ian, "There you go. Thank you, please come again."

Ian took the bag, "Thank-you very much. I'll be back when I need to be." Tom and Ian left the pharmacy and walked out into the London night.

"So, where are we going now?" Tom asked as Ian hailed another cab.

"Kristen said she'd meet us at a bar near where the rave is being held. You know, a little pre-party get together."

"Ah of course," the two sat in silence as the cab sped through the streets of London, "You and Kristen," Tom said suddenly.

"Me and Kristen, yes?"

"You think she's the right one?"

Ian shrugged, "Dunno yet, but it's going to be a fun ride. She's a fun girl and we do seem to have a few things in common, so far. Of course if Elsie suddenly becomes available Kristen's dropped like rotten mutton."

"Now you're just trying to get my goat."

"Yes and no old chum. I like your sister a lot. Of course if she doesn't feel the same way there's not much I can do about it, but I've yet to see a woman resist my charm when I turn it up all the way." He smiled smugly.

"Well prepare yourself for a disappointment because I'm pretty sure you've met your match with Elsie."

"That's why I must have her, for our children will be a race of super-beings destined to rule the world."

Tom looked at Ian like he had made a totally ridiculous statement, which he had. "You sure Farkas didn't put any LSD in that Ecstasy?"

"No idea, I haven't taken any of it yet."

Tom sighed, "That's what I was afraid of."

Ian laughed, "Come on man, have a little sense of fun."

"Oh I have a little sense of fun, but with you it's got to be more like a planetoid sized sense of fun, with a taste for the absurd on the side."

"How's that, you mean my zany antics?"

Tom smirked, "More like your taste in clothes." The two friends looked at each other for a long moment before breaking out in laughter.

"Oh shit man," Ian said, wiping a tear from his eye, "my taste in clothes. That was fucking priceless." The cab came to a halt in front of a small pub. "Great, we're here." Ian got out of the taxi. "Oh Tom, could you pay the good man? I'm all tapped out."

Tom sighed as he reached for his wallet, "Just because I'm rich doesn't mean I have to pay every time." He muttered to himself as he handed the cabby a collection of bills.

By the time Tom entered the pub Ian was already at the bar, pounding down a beer, "Well that didn't take long," Tom said dryly.

Ian held out his arms, "What? We've got a long night ahead of us, and I need to make sure I'm properly fortified. Hey barkeep, one for my friend here."

The bartender nodded and started to draw Tom a glass, "Actually could I get a scotch, strait." The burly man shrugged and poured Tom a shot. "Thanks."

"Whoa, scotch, moving up to the big time. Any special reason for the change?"

Tom downed the shot in one swallow, "Whew, good stuff." He shrugged, "No real reason, I just feel like drinking myself into oblivion tonight." He motioned for the bartender to serve him another shot.

"Okay, now Tom, there is a difference between a good pre-party buzz and getting shitfaced, and if you keep this up," He watched as Tom slammed down his second shot, "You won't even be ambulatory for too much longer."

"Fuck it, doesn't matter." Tom signaled to the bartender to leave the bottle.

"Oh don't play this horseshit with me now man. I will not sit here and listen to you play little, whiny bitch all evening. 'Oh boo-hoo I blew my chance with Daria, I cannot feel any lower. How can I find the strength to carry on?' That's a load of bullshit and you know it."

"Ian, how the hell do you know anything about this?"

"Beyond what you've told me? Not a whole hell of a great deal, but I do know this, if you really are in love with this chick why the hell aren't you at her hotel pounding on the door to her room demanding to speak to her?"

"Because she'd rip my fucking head off. You don't know Daria, she's a very closed off person. It takes a lot to get her to open up to anyone, and she did with me. Then I went and fucked up, royally, and that hurt her."

Ian nodded thoughtfully, "So she let you get close and you stabbed her in the back. Yes, I can see the problem," he shrugged, "I suggest massive amounts of groveling, and lots of presents." Tom stared at his drink. "Provided you still love her that is." Tom shrugged, "It's a simple question, do you or don't you?"

"I don't know ok!" Tom shouted.

"Then you don't, now finish your drink. We'll wait for Kristen outside, this place is giving off bad vibes."

Tom sighed, "Yeah, ok." He stood up, a little unsteadily, "Daria's in the past and that's where she'll stay." He did not sound convincing, "At least for tonight."

Ian shrugged, "Good enough for me." He put some money on the bar, "Come on, let's go."

"Hey, you said you were broke." Tom protested.

"I always carry an emergency beer fund. It can't be dipped into for piddling stuff like cab fare."

"Fucking cheap skate drunks." Tom growled.

"Hey, I'm not a cheap skate, it's just that when you've got a friend who won't even miss cab fare, why not let him pay."

Tom sighed, "Remember when we were talking about the burdens of the rich last night? This is what I'm talking about. When you've got money you're always the one who pays."

"Oh just shut up about that will you. Who paid for the drinks, hm? Me. Who bought the drugs? Me again. So don't say you're the guy who always foots the bill because you know that's not true." They exited the bar and stood on the street corner.

"When's Kristen supposed to show up?"

Ian shrugged, "Soon I'd imagine."

"Well I hope she does get here quickly, we probably look like a couple of male prostitutes standing on the corner like this."

"Bah, you're not pretty enough to be a male whore. It's more like I'm the prostitute and you're the John, looking to get a little piece without his wife knowing about it."

"Uh, there was way too much detail in that reply for my liking. I'll just pretend I didn't here it."

"You just couldn't think up anything snappy to say."

"Complete blank." Tom said evenly.

Ian chuckled as he looked up and down the street, rocking on the balls of his feet. "You know, I was thinking, maybe we should head out on a holiday. Maybe check out Spain, or Monaco. Troll some topless beaches for a little action. Lose some cash playing baccarat..."

"Do you even know how to play baccarat?"

"No, that's why I'd lose. Doesn't it sound like a grand time?"

"If you don't have any strong attachment to your money."

Ian laughed, "Hey man, it's only money. And if it has to be sacrificed for my amusement so be it."

"That's why you'll never get ahead in the world. You've got to take your finances seriously."

"Now that sounds like something your illustrious father might say." Ian sniffed.

Tom shrugged, "Maybe, but he's right. I live well within my means because if I treat my bank account like a bottomless pit, I'll hit bottom pretty damn quick."

Ian chuckled, "That's a good one, think it up all by yourself?"

"You aren't the only font around here."

"I guess not. So, what do you say? Should I start making the reservations?"

Tom looked down at his feet, "I don't know, I'm not really in a nude beach mood." He thought for a moment, "But you are right, getting out of town for a while might not be a bad idea. Maybe I'll go visit Elsie, and possibly poke around for anything permanent over there."

"You're thinking about moving?" Ian asked in surprise.

"Maybe," Tom said, shrugging. "I don't know, I'm starting to feel the need to do something different, shake things up a little, you know."

"No, I don't." Ian said shaking his head. "I think you've just come up with another of your patented bullshit rationalizations."

"Oh really."

"Yes, look Tom you've been, well not exactly running, but trying to dodge the portions of your life you haven't liked: Daria, your family, stuff like that. But everywhere you go all that shit just keeps popping back up. So you move on to make it go away again."

Tom looked at Ian dubiously, "So let me guess I should face my issues and my life will be all happy?"

"I never said that, but you do have to wrestle your demons every once in a while just to keep them off balance and in check."

Tom watched the traffic pass by as he formed his reply, "Then what do you think I should be dong?"

"For starters go to that reunion of yours, see your old haunts as they really are and not through the distortion of your memory. I mean you say Lawndale the same way other people say 'cum-guzzling fuck bucket.' That's not a healthy attitude to have towards anyplace, well except France. Especially for you since you've really had a very easy go of things."

Tom sighed, "I suppose, but isn't it possible that I don't want to go to the reunion because I think it will be a stupid waste of my time?"

"Oh there's that too," Ian admitted. "So don't go to reunion, visit your parents instead. It doesn't really matter who you go see just so long as you're in Lawndale trying to make a measure of peace with your past."

"I guess, but not right now. The timing is not right. I know I'm being petty about this, but I'm just not ready to go back."

"Then can I go in your place?"

Tom laughed, "To my reunion?" Ian nodded, "Yeah, sure that'll just blow everyone's mind."

"That and there will be a lot of bored house wives there. I'm sure they'd all love to have a chance to ride the Mystical Magical Ian Express to Sexual Bliss. This'll be a lot of fun."

Tom sighed, "Then why do I get the feeling I've just made a horrible mistake."

Ian flashed a grin, "Because you have mate."

"That's what I was afraid of. After you're done posing as me I might not be allowed back into town."

"It's been know to happen." Ian said with a laugh. "Now where the hell is Kristen? She should have been here by now. This standing around is growing tiresome."

Tom scanned the crowd surrounding them "I don't see her, are you sure this is the right place?"

"Positive, see that big warehouse over there?" Ian pointed down the street, "That's where the rave is being held."

"Then maybe she went to the wrong place."

"Typical of a woman," Ian said in a condescending tone of voice, "No sense of..."

"Don't finish that sentence if you value your balls." A voice behind them said. Tom and Ian spun around and saw Kristen standing behind them, her arms crossed across her chest, a frown on her face.

"Er, hi there Kristen, we were just wondering where you were." Ian said in a smooth voice, trying to placate the angry woman.

"Well I'm here now, so let's go hit the dance floor, and maybe you can do something for me as a peace offering."

"A peace offering? For what?" Ian asked as the threesome walked down the street, "I didn't say anything out of line."

"Ian," Kristen said sweetly, "There was no way in hell you could've finished that sentence in a way that would not have ended badly for you."

Ian shrugged, "But I didn't say anything so it's hard for you to prove anything."

"She doesn't have to," Tom said dryly. "You do enough damage to yourself by standing there."

Kristen laughed, "Your friend really has your number."

"And I his," Ian replied darkly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Tom asked.

"It means I know where you sleep you traitorous American bastard." Ian growled.

Kristen laughed again, "Uh oh Tom, better watch out, looks like you've pissed off a real dangerous customer here." She grabbed hold of one of Ian's arms affectionately.

Tom shrugged, "I'm not too worried, after all if Ian kills me he'll have to start paying for all his cabs."

Ian laughed, "You got me there. I certainly can't kill you while you're still useful to me."

"You don't know how relieved that makes me feel." Tom deadpanned.

"Well it better, because I could end you just like that if I wanted to." Ian snapped his fingers for emphasis.

"Yeah, sure you could," replied Tom sarcastically.

"Ok boys, that's enough posturing, you've met the required amount to keep your penises. Now can we please get a move on? I'm getting bored." Kristen said, cutting off Ian and Tom's exchange.

"And we can't have that now can we?" Ian said, "Come Thomas, away. The night beckons!" Ian leapt off dramatically in the direction of the warehouse. Quite a few of their fellow pedestrians looked at Ian strangely.

Tom sighed, "I wish I could just say he's drunk, but, well, he's not." He told Kristen as they walked down the street, following Ian.

"He certainly does seem to have a unique perspective on life." Kristen replied. "That's why I took him up on that invitation last night."

"Uhm, yeah, about that. I was just wondering what are you expecting out of Ian?"

"Is this an over-protective friend asking?"

Tom shook his head, "Just a curious observer."

Kristen watched as Ian swung himself around a lamppost before replying, "He's a nice enough chap, but a bit of a cad." She shrugged, "Whatever happens, happens, and I'm sure while it's happening I'll have a good time."

Tom nodded, "Replace good with never dull and you're probably right."

Kristen smiled, "Never dull is good."

Tom chuckled, "You were two were made for each other, I can see it now."

"I wouldn't go that far...but I kind of hope you're right." Kristen looked at Tom appraisingly, "You're a good friend Tom, I'm sure you're going to make some special lady very happy."

Tom scuffed his feet, "Yeah, well so far I've been pretty bad on that score."

"I find that pretty hard to believe, you seem to be a pretty decent guy."

Tom shrugged, "I don't know, things always seem to fuck up when I'm seeing someone. I just have really bad relationship karma."

"Is Tom telling his tales of romantic woe?" Ian asked.

"They are not 'tales of woe.'" Tom shot back. "I was just saying I have bad luck with women."

"Fuck that, they're tales of woe. Anyway here's a hypothetical for you Kristen. Say you run into this guy you haven't seen in years. Let's also say the two of you were high school sweethearts who broke up fairly acrimoniously."

"So what's the question I should be answering for Tom?"

Ian coughed, "Who said anything about...oh balls. Ok, if you were Daria would you be inclined to get back together with him?"

Kristen ran a hand through her hair, "Well I can't really say, I mean I'm not Daria..."

"Well, as a woman then," Ian said, pressing the issue.

"What the hell does that mean? 'As a woman.' It's not like we're some sort of group mind."

"But there are common points of reference for all women, which lends itself to helping us in this matter."

"That's bullshit Ian and you know it. My life and this Daria's are totally different. I can't say how she'd react in a certain situation just because we both have two X-chromosomes. That's like saying I can predict Tom's behavior based on yours. Which is patently ridiculous."

"Ok, ok, it's a point well taken. Let me try again. Speaking as you, if you were in Daria's shoes what would you do?"

"Does Daria know you want to get back together with her?" Kristen asked Tom.

Tom shrugged, "I said something like if she ever thought about it, but nothing more than that."

"And she said?"

"Basically she asked why I wanted to fuck up her life again."

"Ouch, I think you have your answer."

Tom shrugged, "Daria is a very opinionated person who tends to view the world in black and white terms, but if you make a strong enough case she'll reconsider. We were actually sharing a moment before we got interrupted."

"Oh really," Ian said, "how sweet."

"Well, she wasn't being actively hostile to me."

"Baby steps mate."

"I think my question is this," Kristen said, "Do you really want to get back together with her?"

"That's my question too," Ian added.

Tom sighed, "I don't know, it's something I've always thought I've wanted, a chance to undo one of the great fuckups of my life, but now that I have the chance, possibly, I'm not sure if that's what I really want."

"God damn it all to hell man! This is the shit I'm talking about. I've never seen you waffle like this. You normally pancake so definitely through life."

"Pancake?" Kristen asked.

"Forget it, he's on a roll." Tom replied.

"Ooh, 'Animal House' nice reference."

"Thanks." Tom said agreeably.

"Have we had our fun yet?" Ian asked in a scolding fashion. "May I continue?"

"By all means, please do." Tom said, lightly.

"I wouldn't be so flip if I were you. Of course if you were me we wouldn't be having this conversation because I would have made up my mind."

"You would have?"

"Damn strait I would have."

Tom folded his arms across his chest, "So you can't say there's no woman in your past who wouldn't leave you with conflicted feelings if she showed up right now?"

Ian shook his head, "Nope, not a one."

Tom turned to Kristen, "How about you? That hypothetical Ian asked, what if that was you, wouldn't you feel at least a little conflicted?"

"I guess, it would depend on the ex though."

"Doesn't change a thing," Ian said, "So you're conflicted, 'Oh look at the poor tortured man.' Big fucking deal, it doesn't change the fact that you have to reach a decision. Do you reach out to the woman or not?"

"But I tried to do that."

"And she wasn't there, big surprise, she's visiting London and isn't in her hotel room during the day. Wow, what are the odds of that?"

"You agreed with me that I shouldn't call her again."

"At that moment you ninny. I didn't mean you should just give up."

Tom scanned up and down the street as they walked, trying to form a reply. "Why are you riding me so hard about this anyway? It's like we can't go ten minutes before you rag my ass for being wishy-washy."

"Tom, I'm just trying to get you to make up your mind, because until you do that you're going to be a royal bastard to hang out with, and that cramps my style man."

Tom chuckled, "I'm sorry for being such a drag on your party. I'll do better the next time a long lost ex-girlfriend wanders back into my life."

Ian laughed, "I'm sure you will. So, what's it going to be?"

Tom shrugged, "I don't know." He ducked when Ian playfully threw a punch in his direction. "She's leaving tomorrow at some unknown time. I figure at that point the issue will be moot so I'll just take the wait and see approach."

Ian chuckled, "The good old path of least resistance huh?"

"Hasn't failed me yet."

"I'm sure. So when were you thinking about going out to see Elsie?"

Tom shrugged, "As usual, I'm not sure, we've got a pretty important deadline coming up at work so I'll probably have to get pretty serious with code until then, but after that I'll talk to Elsie to see when's a good time for her. And no you can't come along."

Ian glanced at Kristen, "Now why would I want to accompany you on a visit to your sister's place?"

"Yeah, why would you Ian?" Kristen asked suspiciously.

"Well, I asked because he's got the hots for her, why just this day he was crawling all over me for a chance to speak to 'Fair Elsie' and wouldn't stop pestering me until I let him say hi." Tom smiled wickedly and walked off.

"You'll pay for this Sloane, oh will you pay." Ian shouted at Tom's departing form.

"Care to explain yourself?" Kristen asked.

"Certainly, see it's just a game Tom's sister and I play. I pretend to chase her, and she pretends to hate my guts." He paused for a moment, "Actually she might really hate my guts, but anyway there's nothing between us."

"Could there be?"

"Not while I'm with you." Ian said simply.

"Is this true?" She asked Tom, who was standing a short distance form them.

Tom nodded, "Pretty much, don't worry, I was just making fun of Ian, though he was going to ask if he could tag along."

"I was not...ok, I was, but only because I'd like to visit the States again, not for any secret rendezvous with Tom's sister."

"Ok, it's not like I've hung out with this chump long enough to care if he's got another girl stashed away somewhere, but I do like to know where I stand."

"On your own two feet at the moment." Ian replied with a smile. "Don't worry, Elsie might be pretty, smart, and rich, but she's American so all that good stuff is out the window."

Kristen laughed, "I'm glad to hear that in your mind a broke British waitress is the equal of a rich American heiress."

"It helps that the waitress is right here." Ian said, smirking.

"Asshole," Kristen replied with a smile. They continued walking down the street, arms linked.

"Hey wait a second, you just insulted me." Tom cried out, "I'm an American too."

"And we don't hold that against you old boy." Ian said over his shoulder.

"Yeah well, we can kick your collective ass." Tom said petulantly.

"But I can kick yours, and I don't see any Green Berets around to back you up."

"At least we don't have a monarch."

"We have a long history and a great many traditions that enrich our lives, the monarchy being one of them." Ian replied smoothly.

"Too bad we kicked your butts in the Revolution."

"Did you manage to burn down Buckingham Palace? Didn't think so."

"Doesn't count, that was before the US was a major power. I'd like to see you try to pull that little stunt again."

Ian waved a hand in a dismissive fashion. "We've got Shakespeare, game over."

"Faulkner, Hemingway and Steinbeck," Tom shot back.

"Ok, I'll finish this once and for all, Patrick Stewart versus William Shatner. 'Nuff said, Hail Britannia."

"Shatner's from Canada, he doesn't count."

"Geek test, gotcha." Ian grinned evilly.

"Bastard, You knew you were going to lose so you bailed on it."

"I did no such thing, besides everyone knows all the good entertainers come from Britain."

"Don't even try to make that claim buddy."

"Too late, I already did. Face it Tom England is where all the great innovators came from, Hitchcock, the Beatles, the Stones..."

"The Bay City Rollers." Tom muttered.

"No, they're Scottish, big difference."

"Ok fine, Wham."

"The good far outweighs the bad."

"I'd just like to remind you of you actually invented the music all your so called "innovators" appropriated, Americans." Tom nodded defiantly to punctuate his remark.

"Unfortunately they were all under appreciated . It took the genius of the British acts to get people's attention."

"Oh please, Elvis was under appreciated?"

"Compared to the Beatles he was."

Before Tom could reply Kristen interrupted, "Uh guys I hate to break up this little debate, but we're here."

"Why so we are." Ian said, stating the obvious.

The trio was standing in front of a large warehouse a formidable bouncer guarded the door, casting a suspicious eye over all the potential revelers walking through the door.

Ian reached into the pocket of this coat and withdrew the Farkas Farmacy bag. "Before I forget, here's your share of the goodies." He handed Tom a small canister.

"Thanks," Tom pocketed the marijuana.

"And before we go in I think we need to take our medication." He took the pill bottle out of the bag.

"Oh come on Ian you know I..."

"Don't take this stuff? Yeah I know, did I offer you any?"

"So you're not going to say I should to loosen up and help me forget about Daria?"

"Well now that you mention it; that sounds like a capital idea."

Tom sighed, "Oh why the hell not, give me the damn pill."

"There's a good lad. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you." He handed Tom a white pill.

Tom looked at it for a long moment before shrugging and dry swallowing the pill. "Now what?"

"Just wait for it to kick in and enjoy the ride." Ian replied after taking a dose himself, Kristen followed suit.

They slowly crept through the line until they finally reached the bouncer. He glanced at them appraisingly before opening the door and letting the trio pass.

The interior of the warehouse was dark and loud. Dance music pulsated from the large amps ringing the room. Lights flashed with weird stroboscopic effects. The main dance floor was already filled with people dancing and waving glo-sticks in some weird attempt to recapture and earlier, slightly more innocent era.

"Well this sure looks like a good time," Ian shouted.

"Where's the bar?" Tom asked.

"Over there I think." Kristen replied, pointing to a corner of the room.

"Let's dance!" Ian shouted, grabbing Kristen and dragging her onto the dance floor. Tom followed and soon he was doing his best impression of a dancer. By this time the Ecstasy had taken hold and Tom was feeling quite happy. Shortly thereafter he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder.

He turned, "Yeah?"

All he could really tell about the woman was that she had black hair, long legs, and not much on, "Hey there cutie, want to dance?"

"That's what I'm doing right now," Tom replied, a goofy grin on his face.

She laughed, "No silly, with me."

Tom shrugged, "Fine by me, I'll even let you lead." She crooked a finger indicating that he should follow her and they walked off into the dancing throng.

Daria sighed, she had just turned away the umpteenth suitor of the evening and the whole exercise was rapidly growing tiresome.

"Why am I even here?" She asked herself. "Oh yeah, the other option was a lovely evening in my hotel room doing nothing. At least here people buy me drinks." She idly swirled an untouched glass. "Laced with god knows what I'm sure, but it's the thought that counts I suppose." She sipped the drink she bought herself. "This certainly has been one strange trip. Who would have thought Tom was living in London. Maybe I was a little hard on him, after all it was ten years ago. On the other hand the bastard deserved it."

She let her mind review the day's events. After she woke up Daria worked on her article for the literary magazine she was currently writing for. As she told Tom she wrote about the misuse of classic literature in pop culture. What she hadn't told Tom was that this was a regular feature for the magazine, and one of the more popular at that. It allowed her to do what she did best, excoriate the bland stupidity of the masses, and get paid for it. The fact that she did this for a mass produced magazine with a readership of several million was not lost on Daria. In fact she often went so far as to call her readers vapid sheep for depending on her word as to what did and did not suck. "Even the intellectually elite are sheep." She once told Quinn.

After putting the final touches on her column she emailed it to her editor. She debated with herself what to do and finally settled on seeing the sights of London, something she hadn't had a chance to do until that point. Daria picked up a travel guide at the lobby and set off to see the sights. Enough of her teenaged morbidity remained so that she made a special point to see sights like the chopping block at the Tower of London. She also spent quite a bit of time at the Royal Library, just browsing all the books present in that august collection.

"I'm going to have to visit again just to spend some more time in this place," she mused as she examined a displayed copy of "Canterbury Tales." She left the library around dinnertime and got a meal at a quiet little restaurant near her hotel. When she finished her meal she decided to return to her hotel room to plan her next move. There was nothing else for her to do in London, but it seemed a shame to waste the money her editor had lavished on her for the trip.

Back at her hotel room she glanced at the clock, "Hmm, it's only early afternoon back in New York, maybe I'll give Quinn a call. I've got nothing better to do." She reached for the phone and noticed the voice mail light was flashing. "Huh, I wonder who called me?" She followed the instructions for accessing the voice mail and listened to the message; which consisted of nothing more than a phone hanging up. "Hrm, must have been a wrong number." She entered the number to her apartment into the phone and waited.

"Hello?" Quinn's voice came over the line.

"Hi Quinn, it's Daria."

"Daria, hi, how's London?"

"Filled with the ghosts of all who have died an unnatural death over the course of the years."

"So in other words, you're having a great time."

"I suppose, I admit seeing the bloodstains at the Tower of London was pretty cool."

"That's just so typical of you Daria. You're in one of the most fashionable cities in the world and you go visit some dusty old ruins."

"I got my fill of the night life last night when I was on assignment."

"Oh yeah, how was the club?"

"Freakishly abhorrent as I expected. Coleridge just does not translate into a nightclub easily, and those people tried to take the easy path."

"Were any cute guys there?" Quinn asked impishly.

"Why do you want to know, I thought you were happy with Dave."

"For you silly. You need to have something else in your life beyond your job."

Daria sighed, "I'm not getting into this debate right now, but just so you know I did spend a fair bit of time talking with a guy."

"Really?" Quinn squealed, "Tell me everything."

"Well, he's from the States, California actually, about my age. His family is quite wealthy..."

"Sounds like a winner to me." Quinn said excitedly.

"And did I mention his name is Tom?"

"Tom? That's so funny, because you went out with a Tom in high school, and he was rich too...wait a second, you're not saying?"

"Yes, I ran into the infamous Thomas Sloane at the club last night."

"Oh my god Daria! Tell me everything. What is he doing in London? Was he wearing fashionable clothes? Is he still good looking?"

"Whoa slow down, if you give me a chance to speak I'll tell you."

"Alright, wait hang on, let me get Dave." Daria could hear Quinn moving about then yell, "Hey Dave, Daria is on the phone, and she met Tom Sloane in London."

"So Dave spent the night again?" Daria asked innocently.

"Yeah." Quinn replied, Daria could hear the blush creep up her sister's face. For all her showiness Quinn was very withdrawn when it came to talking about her relationship with Dave.

"So long as you two stay out of my room I don't care what you do."

"Daria, ewwww! That'd be like doing it in Mom and Dad's room!"

"Doing what in your parent's room?" A male voice asked.

"Hey Dave." Daria said in greeting.

"Yo Daria. So, what would be like doing in your folk's room?"

"Daria, do not answer that." Quinn demanded.

"Having sex." Daria said with a smirk.

"Daria!" Quinn shrieked, "I told you not to say anything, oh god, I'm so embarrassed."

"Um, why Quinn it's what were doing not..."

"Dave, don't start too," Quinn said in a threatening tone.

"Okay, so why am I privy to this outpouring of sisterly love anyway?"

"Well, remember Tom Sloane from Lawndale?"

"Brown hair, rich kid. Went out with Daria, right?"

"That's the guy, Daria met him at a club last night in London."

"Hey, that's pretty cool. How's he doing?"

"No, first tell us how you met him." Quinn said.

Daria sighed, "Can I just tell the tale and be done with it? These sat link calls aren't cheap." The silence on the other end indicated their willingness to listen. "Okay, so I'm at this club, mentally writing my review of the place when someone bumps into me. I turn around and there he is, doesn't look a damn bit different. So we get to talking, exchanging pleasantries, catch up on how each other's family is doing. Then as you might expect we started hashing out our difference. Why we broke up, who exactly is the bigger asshole, that sort of thing."

"Sounds like a good time." Dave commented dryly.

"It's the way I like to spend my evenings." Daria replied sarcastically.

"What happened next?" Quinn asked, "Did you two go out for coffee or something? Did you let him kiss you goodnight?"

"I can safely say the answer to all of those questions is a big no. He had to go help a friend, then a riot broke out and I left before I could be detained by Scotland Yard for questioning."

"Wait a second, you didn't start the riot. Did you?"

"Relax Quinn, I'm innocent of that particular charge. I actually think Tom might have had something to do with it though."

"Tom started a riot? Just to avoid talking to you?"

"As strange as that sounds, yes. We didn't even say goodbye. He just said he'd be right back, then furniture started flying."

"So you didn't get his number or anything like that."

"Nope, why would I want to anyway?"

"So you can talk to him again you dummy."

"Again, I fail to see the reasoning."

"Daria, Tom was like the best boyfriend you ever had, you two are a perfect match. Why wouldn't you want to get back together with him?"

"For starters because he is a traitorous weasel who can't be trusted."

"Now pardon me for asking," Dave broke in, "But didn't you break up with him?"

"Well, yeah, but only because he got a little too close to a female friend of his."

"Ok, I just have dim memories of getting really drunk with the guy afterwards and him saying you dumped him before that."

"It's one interpretation of history." Daria paused, "It's funny, I've been so mad at him, but when we were talking I remembered all the not so bad times we had, and what an intense jackass he was to fuck that up." She added hastily.

"Sounds to me like somebody wants to get back together with her old boyfriend." Quinn said coyly.

"No it does not. Why on earth would I do a damn fool thing like that?"

"Because you never wanted to break up with him in the first place, duh."

"Where the hell did you come up with that asinine notion? Of course I wanted to break up with him. He was seeing another girl for crying out loud."

"I think what your sister is trying to say is that given your druthers you wouldn't have broken up." Dave said, trying to keep the peace.

"Well obviously, you don't break up with some one if they don't give you any reason to."

Quinn sighed dramatically, "Daria, you know that sometimes a relationship just ends and no one is to blame, especially high school romances. People just drift apart, and if that was going to happen with you and Tom then it doesn't matter what he did because you two were destined to break up. But, if you were still in love with him, then maybe there's a chance the two of you would still be together now if you hadn't broken up back then. Which is why I asked if you were still in love with him when you broke up." She explained patiently.

"Quinn, what the hell are you getting at?"

"That you should forgive the poor bastard and get back together with him. Fuck Daria, he screwed up once the whole time the two of you went out and you were a damn cute couple too, for a pair of unfashionable brains that is."

"I think," Dave said quietly, "that the person you need to talk to is Jane."

"Huh, why?"

"Now my memory of that time is somewhat hazy, but I seem to remember always thinking that the reason you freaked out so badly back then was because the whole incident was too similar to the way you and Tom hooked up in the first place. You never really came to terms with how your relationship with Tom started."

"What does this have to do with Jane?"

"You still think you're the reason Tom and Jane broke up in the first place, and because of that you're inclined to think the worst of any possible screw up Tom might make. Or I could just be pulling this out of my ass, whatever."

"You are," Daria said simply.

"Ok, but call Jane, talk to her about this, can't hurt. Look my shift starts soon so I've got to get ready for that. See you Monday?"

"Yeah, Monday."

"Cool, take it easy Daria."

"Bye Dave." She could hear Dave's extension cut off.

"He's more perceptive than he has any right to be." Daria thought to herself as she replayed their conversation in her mind. "Must be from all the drugs."

"You should follow Dave's advice." Quinn had told her, "I'm sure Jane would have plenty of advice for you."

"I don't really think Jane wants to hear me mope about her ex-boyfriend."

"But she would like to hear from her friend I bet, and besides she was happy for the two of you, after a while at least."

Daria sighed, "Quinn, when did you start making sense?"

"About the time you started paying attention to what I had to say. So are you calling Jane?"

"Maybe, not right now at least, it's far too early for Jane to be coherent. Besides, she'll just tell me to give Tom another chance."

"So will you?"

"Tell you what, if I see him again before I go home I'll talk to him about it."

"Daria, you're not going to sit in your hotel room all night are you? If you are I'll find Tom's number and tell him to march over there and stand in front of your door until you come out."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"Ok, ok, you don't have to threaten me. I was going out anyway." Daria saw the flyer for the rave she picked up the night before. "I'm going to this rave thing tonight."

"And how do I know you aren't lying to me?"

"You don't, goodbye Quinn."

"I'll call the front desk to see if you're still in your room." Quinn threatened.

Daria sighed, "Goodbye Quinn."

"Bye Daria, good luck with Tom." The two sisters hung up their phones, leaving Daria by herself with her thoughts.

Daria took another drink from her glass, Dave had been right, there was only one person in the world she could talk to about this,other than Tom, and that was Jane. She sighed as she pulled her cell phone out of a pocket and went off in search of a relatively quiet place to make the call.

"I wonder if Trent will be there." She pondered idly as she punched the number in from memory.

"Hello, Lane's Painting Service, if it's a surface we'll slap paint on it." Jane's voice said, slightly faint, from across the world.

"Hey Jane, how's the business going?"

"Daria? Hey, great to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I have to ask you about something you won't want to talk about."

"Ooo, the spine tingles, what's up?"

"It has to do with Tom."

"Tom?"

"Yes, Tom."

"Tom, Tom?"

"Getting into percussion? Yes, that Tom."

"Why are you bringing that bit of ancient history?"

"Because it's not so ancient. I ran into him last night."

"In New York?"

"No, London."

"London?"

"Yes, London. I'm here on assignment and we ran into each other in this club..." She quickly gave Jane a recap of the previous night's events.

"Wow, that's got to be up there on the cosmic coincidence scale."

"Tell me about it. I spent the rest of the evening ready to pepper spray anyone who even remotely looked like any of my other ex-boyfriends."

"And such a wide and varied group that is, did you include Trent?"

"Did Trent and I ever go out?"

"Well no, but I figured you might want to pad your numbers a bit."

"Gee, thanks for that ringing endorsement of my love life."

"Anytime amiga." Jane said airily. "So you saw Tom again, why call me?"

"I have a nagging question only you can answer."

"Which is?"

"Was I the reason you and Tom broke up?" Daria asked quickly.

"What?" Jane shouted into the phone.

"Was I the reason you and Tom broke up?"

"I heard you the first time." Jane said testily. "Why ask me that question now?"

"It's just something I need to know the answer to."

"Wait a second, remind me why you broke up with Tom?"

"I caught him kissing some girl after we had a bit of a fight." Daria mumbled.

"I thought so. To answer your question, no you had nothing to do with our breakup. We were going to anyway, you just made it easier."

"Oh," Daria said simply.

"You're thinking about getting back together with him aren't you."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you were in love with him, and none of your relationships since then have even come close."

"I suppose. But I must mention that Quinn said the exact same thing."

"Look Daria, I truly don't give a shit one way or the other. Tom's ancient history for me. If you want him then by all means he's yours. Go for it."

"Thanks Jane, I just might do that."

"Let me know how things work out. And stop by some time, you have to see what I've done to the high school."

"The mind boggles."

Jane chuckled, "Well Li's mind sure did. I don't think she knew there were that many different shades of blue and yellow."

"Good to hear you're still subverting the system from the inside."

"It's a dirty job, but somebody has to do it. Take care Daria."

"You too Jane." Daria switched off her phone and stared out over the crowd. "So where are you Tom?" She wondered aloud as she walked back to her table.

"Hey good looking I can be your Tom if you want. We can go explore the interior of our souls together." A male voice said as she walked past.

"Sorry, I sold mine for a pair of comfortable shoes." Daria replied, moving on. When she got back to her table she found that an overly amorous had taken up residence there.

"Shit," she thought, "and I hadn't even finished my drink." She walked over to the bar and ordered a fresh drink. A quick survey of the surrounding area didn't reveal any free tables so Daria steeled herself for a trip across the dance floor.

"The things I do to keep my sister out of my life." Daria muttered to herself as she started walking through the crowd. She had to put her free hand over the glass to keep the contents from splashing all over the place. When she was almost across the floor she saw something that caused her to nearly drop her glass. "Holy shit!" She said in a loud voice. Not quite ten feet from where she was standing Tom was locked in an intricate bump and grind with a very willing companion. Tom looked up and their eyes met for a brief moment. Anger welled in Daria and she dashed off the dance floor before Tom could say anything.

Tom for his part stood there, stupefied from the shock, and the drugs in his system. His paralysis was broken when his companion ran her hand up and down his leg.

"Why'd you stop dancing?" She asked in a sultry voice, "Want to do something a little more stimulating?"

Tom brusquely removed her hand from his body, "Uh sorry, I just saw somebody I need to talk to. If you'll excuse me." He ran off in the direction Daria had fled, pushing his way through the crowd. His erstwhile dance partner shrugged and began searching for another warm body to entertain herself with.

Tom bulled his way through the crowd until he finally caught up with Daria. He reached out with an arm and caught her by the shoulder. "Daria," he asked, "what are you doing here?"

"What's it look like? I'm trying to find a good time, and from the looks of things you've already found one."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you were looking pretty chummy with that chick back there."

"And this matters to you how?"

"it doesn't. It's just that last night you seemed pretty intent on hooking up with me, and now you're doing the bump and grind with some raver. It's nice to see your well-honed ability to drop anything that won't provide you instant gratification is still intact."

Tom groaned in frustration, "Now what do you mean by that?"

"Just that I've spent my day talking to people and having them tell me to give you another chance, but what do I see when I stumble across you? Somebody else giving you a lap dance."

"Daria, I didn't even know her name."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Daria asked in an incredulous voice.

"Well yes, because frankly I think you're over-reacting a touch. Just because I was dancing with that woman doesn't mean we were going to do anything more than that. Christ Daria, what do you expect me to do, sit in my apartment like some aesthetic monk because of a conversation I wasn't privy to?" Tom's growing ire at Daria's attitude prevented him from hearing what she was saying.

Daria frowned, "Ok, that does sound sort of silly, but still given your history what other conclusion could I draw?"

"It's not my fault that you reached an incorrect judgment. I just came here with a few friends to have an enjoyable evening."

"There's a big difference between going out with some friends and getting it on with some bimbo you just met." Daria replied caustically.

Tom sighed, "Daria, why do you always have to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Hold me to some impossibly high standard, and if I deviate even the slightest from it you crucify me."

"Well excuse me for having any standard at all. I don't know what I was thinking; getting back together with you? What a load of shit. You'd leave the moment you got a little bored. So fuck you Tom Sloane, I hope you enjoy your life." Daria stormed off leaving a stunned Tom standing in her wake.

Daria's parting words slowly sunk into Tom's brain. When he realized what she had been saying he tried to follow her, "Daria, wait a second!" He shouted, but he couldn't see her.

Back on the dance floor Kristen noticed the commotion Daria and Tom were causing, "Hey Ian, isn't that Tom over there?"

Ian looked in the direction Kristen indicated, "Why yes, it is. I wonder who the woman is?"

"Whoever she is it looks like things are getting a bit heated."

"You're right, I'd better get over there to see if he needs a hand. I wonder..." He trailed off.

"Wonder what?"

"Oh nothing, want to come along to lend a hand?"

Kristen shrugged, "Oh might as well." They set off in the direction of Tom.

By the time they arrived Daria had left and Tom was sitting at a table, looking dejected.

"What's up Tom?"

"She's gone, again, fuck it all, why'd I have to come here?"

"Whoa, back up, who was here?"

"Daria."

"Daria? That was Daria?" Ian asked in amazement, Tom simply nodded. "Fuck man, why were you arguing with her, that was your chance man."

"You don't think I don't know that?" Tom shouted. "She saw me dancing with this girl and started shouting at me, and I never recovered from that. She even said she was interested in getting back together with me."

Ian looked thoughtful for a moment, "Kristen, stay with Tom."

"Where are you going?"

"I've got a little errand to run, I'll be right back. Tom why don't you have a drink, maybe smoke a joint, you'll feel better. Oh, and which way did she leave?" He asked quickly. Tom pointed in the right direction without even realizing what Ian asked. "Thanks." Ian strode off in the indicated direction. He quickly made his way through the crowd, peering intently for the face he sought.

"Now if I were her I'd be heading for the exit post haste." He thought. He pushed his way to the exit, checking out all the patrons leaving the warehouse as he did so. "I hope she hasn't gotten a cab yet," He said to himself as he exited the warehouse. He looked up and down the street and finally saw the face he was looking for hailing a cab.

"Hey Daria!" Ian bellowed. Daria turned and started at him. "Gotcha." He said to himself as he ran over to where she was standing. "Daria Morgendorffer right?" He asked when he caught up with her.

"Who wants to know?" She asked suspiciously.

"Ian Williams, pleased to meet you, I'm a friend of Tom's." Ian said, holding out his hand. Daria did not take it.

"Good to meet you, now if you'll excuse me, my cab is here." She started to get into the cab which had just arrived.

"Sorry, but we have to talk." Ian shut the cab door and indicated to the cabbie that he should drive off.

"Excuse me, but who the hell gave you the right to do that?"

"Like I said, we have to talk, and it can't wait."

"And if I don't want to talk to you?"

"Too bad, we're going to talk. And don't even bother to try anything, I play rugby, I can take whatever you can dish out." He smiled brightly.

"Well this is a great way to start a relationship." Daria deadpanned.

"And if I just asked nicely?"

"I'd walk away." Daria sighed, "Lead on my imperious captor."

Ian looked up and down the street. He spotted an all night coffee shop and pointed at it. "Why don't we go there. Get a little coffee to clear our head while we discuss heavy things."

"And just what will we be discussing?" Daria asked as they walked down the street.

"What do you think?"

"Tom," Daria sighed, "did he send you?"

Ian shook his head, "Nope, the boy is currently curled up in a bottle, I'm here totally on my own volition."

"Ok, so why are you here?"

"Because Tom's my friend and I'm attempting to do something nice for him. After you." Ian held the door to the café open for Daria.

"And let me guess that nice thing would be me?" Daria said coldly as they sat down at a table.

"Tom said you were a bright girl. Basically yes, I'm here to try and talk some sense into you. Coffee, black please." He told the waitress.

"I'll have the same." Daria said. "Talk some sense into me? That seems pretty needless if you ask me."

"Ok then, forget that. How about you explain something to me instead."

"Sure, what?"

"Why the fuck are you and Tom so fucking volatile? The two of you are together for not even three hours last night but I've seen Tom swing through more emotions today than I have in the entire two years I've known him."

Daria shrugged, "I don't know, he was always the one who was cavalier about our relationship."

"Actually, that was a rhetorical question, I know why he's so strung out."

"Ok then, since you have all the answers, why?"

"Because he feels bad about the way the two of you broke up, and he desperately wants to try again with you."

"He sure has a funny way of expressing that. I see him humping some strange woman on the dance floor, then we have a blow up about it."

"Ok, as for the woman, that's kind of my fault. I talked him into coming here, I spent all day trying to get him to forget about you. Plus I gave him that hit of Ecstasy, and considering that he never does that it's a wonder he wasn't fucking a lamp post."

"Drugs are no excuse for behavior."

"Oh lord no, but seriously, if you think about it rationally he really did not do anything wrong by dancing with someone. You really cannot hold that against him."

"But when you look at it as part of Tom's larger history it fits with a well established pattern of behavior."

"Oh sweet Jesus." Ian said in disgust. "You're as fucking bad as he is you know that?"

"No, I don't."

"You and Tom, the two of you can concoct these total bullshit rationalizations to let you do or think whatever the hell you want. You two are a perfect matched pair."

"I think I should be insulted."

"Fine, be insulted, but it's true. There's a huge gulf between dancing, at a dance party for fuck's sake, and kissing some chick. You know, I know that, hell even the fucking Arch-Bishop of Canterbury knows that. But you can't have that. Oh no, that interferes with this little 'history of prior bad acts' rap you've got going on. And if that gets disturbed then there goes your reason for staying mad at Tom."

"While your righteous indignation impresses me, I fail to see the point."

Ian sighed, "And here I thought you were supposed to be this great mind. Ok, I'll break it down for you. Deep down at the bottom your heart you want to get back together with Tom." He reached over and tapped Daria's chest. "But your head," he tapped Daria between the eyes, "doesn't want you to for whatever reason, once bitten twice shy I suppose."

"Nice story, but a load of bullshit. I don't want to get back together with Tom, and even if I did the logistics would be prohibitive. I don't want to leave New York, and I bet Tom feels the same way about London. I don't want to start a trans-Atlantic romance so it doesn't matter what my heart wants it's a real world impossibility."

Ian ripped the napkin he had been playing with into several smaller pieces. "I'm not talking about rational thought, forget about rational thought. Let go of your head, and feel damnit."

"It'd be pretty hard to get around if I let go of my head." Daria deadpanned.

Ian laughed, "Yes, it would, but do you at least see my point?"

Daria shrugged, "I think you're spouting a load of feel good bullshit."

Ian scratched his chin, "Yeah that does sound like a pretty big line of shit doesn't it." He thought for a moment, "What if I said that Tom would be willing to leave London, would that make any difference?" The waitress arrived with their coffee.

Daria took a sip from the cup before replying. "Honestly I'm not sure. What am I supposed to say? That I've spent the last decade pining for Tom. That all I've needed is just a chance and I'd rekindle whatever it was that we had?"

Ian chuckled, "It'd be a step in the right direction. If you were being sincere just then."

"Obviously I wasn't."

"Oh, obviously."

"Look, Tom Sloane was the first great love of my life, I don't deny that. He was the second person I ever really opened up to, I'm not denying that either. And sure, you always have a soft spot for people like that in your past."

"Great, then what's the problem?"

"That's just it, he's from the past, who's to say what worked a decade ago will work now? And who's to say things won't end the way they did back then as well."

"There's only one way to find out." Ian said quietly.

"So you'd stick your hand into a buzz saw even though you know it could end up hurting like hell in the end?"

Ian shrugged, "An animal knows something is going to hurt and avoids it, a human knows something is going to hurt, but does it anyway."

"Thank you for that Mr. Kwisatch Hadderach. Herbert was full of shit you know."

Ian shrugged, "Only if you look at his work from a certain point of view."

"Now I know why Tom hangs out with you. Sci-fi geeks are all a like."

"I'd like to think that some of us have a bit more style than the rest of my unwashed brethren."

"I hate to break it to you, but you aren't that smooth."

"Don't say that until you've seen me at my best."

"If it involves you threatening woman so they'll do what you want I've seen that."

Ian chuckled in embarrassment, "Er yes, about that, um, I'm sorry if I came on a little strong back there, I was just trying to help Tom out and it was the only way I could think of to get my foot in the door."

Daria nodded, "You're probably right, and this has been an enlightening conversation, not that I'm giving your little theories any credence." She added hastily.

"Of course not. There's always intellectual merit to that which we disagree with."

"Exactly," Daria fell silent as she swirled the remaining coffee in her cup. "You're a good friend for doing all this." She said finally.

"Good friend hell," Ian said with a laugh. "I was just getting tired of him being a whiny little bitch all day. I figured I'd just try to move this along a little so he'd shut up."

Daria smirked, "Watch it, being sarcastic is my specialty."

"Well then, I must beg your most humble forgiveness oh mighty Queen of the Sarcastic Barb."

"Thank you." She finished off her coffee, "Well, I'd love to stay and chat some more, but I've got a trans-continental flight tomorrow so I need to catch up on some sleep." Daria stood to leave.

Ian caught her arm, "Daria, if Tom were to show up at your door and profess his deepest sorrow for all crimes, past present and future, and show a deep desire to try again at your relationship, you wouldn't slam the door in his face would you?"

Daria removed Ian's hand from her arm. "Honestly no, I wouldn't do that." She started to walk off.

Ian's face brightened, "So you'd take him back?"

Daria turned and smirked, "I didn't say that either." She left Ian sitting at the table and walked out of the shop.

Ian chuckled, "Remarkable gal. I wonder how Tom's doing?" He paid the bill and left the shop as well. When he stepped onto the sidewalk he caught sight of Daria entering a cab. "Hey Daria!" he shouted, "When does your flight leave?"

She turned around and yelled, "Six o'clock." Before getting into the cab and driving off.

Still chuckling from their final exchange Ian walked back to the warehouse to check up on Tom.

He found Tom and Kristen standing outside the warehouse. Or more properly Kristen trying to support a very intoxicated Tom up. Ian rushed over to help.

"Here, let me give you a hand with that lump." Ian said taking a hold of Tom's free side.

"So there you are." Kristen said, "And what have you been up to while I was tending to this drunk bastard?"

"I was trying to repair his love life." Ian replied as they dragged Tom's prone form over to a cab.

"Any luck?" Kristen asked as they maneuvered the unconscious American into the taxi.

"Possibly, but it's up to Tom."

"God help us." Kristen replied.

"Amen sister," Ian said as the cab drove off into the London night.

-to be continued-