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 3, Sunday-
Tom regained consciousness the next morning with the help of some
not so gentle prodding. "Huh, who's there? Go away."
Were his only comments before drifting back to sleep.
"Get your lazy fucking ass out of bed Tom, there's work that needs to be done." Ian said in a loud voice.
Tom sat up in bed, holding his head in his hands, "Ok, I'll get up, just don't bellow."
Ian handed Tom a pair of aspirin tablets and a glass of water. "Here, you go, we need to get you feeling human in a hurry, there's not much time."
Tom swallowed the pills and drank the water. "Not much time? For what." He asked as he took stock of his current situation. He was in his apartment, still wearing the clothes from last night. Ian appeared to be wearing something different so he had not spent the night. "And where're my keys?"
Ian help up a key ring and placed in on the table next to Tom's
bed. "I'm impressed, you don't miss much, even when you're
hung over."
Tom tried to stand, but fell back into bed when the dizziness
overtook him. "It's something you have to pick up if you
want to avoid harm while spending time in your company."
Ian chuckled as he helped Tom into the bathroom, "Good lad, I'm glad all my training is paying off. Now go get yourself cleaned up and we can talk more; there will be a pot of coffee waiting for you."
Tom looked himself over in the mirror as he undressed. To put it simply he looked like shit. His eyes were bloodshot and his face had a pale, haggard aspect to it. "Damn, now that was some night. What the fuck happened to get Ian so worked up?" He tried to sort through what he did and did not remember about the night before. The answer came to him quickly. "Aww shit, Daria. Fuck a duck!" He groaned to himself as the hot water poured down on him. "Damn, I really fucked that up. No wonder I got tanked." He got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. When he left the bathroom he was met by Ian, who was holding a large cup of hot coffee.
Tom took the cup and drank a large gulp of the hot brew. "Thanks, so are you here on suicide watch or something?"
Ian chuckled, "No, nothing like that. I'm just here to make sure you're not too late."
" You keep saying I've got to move before I'm too late Too late for what?" Tom asked, puzzled.
"For intercepting Daria before she leaves the country."
"But she told me to fuck off last night, that's a closed book now."
"Guess again my American friend. A little cajoling by yours truly warmed the cockles of her heart and if you bust your ass and get over to her hotel you might just find a receptive Morgendorffer waiting for you."
"Might?" Tom asked between swallows of coffee.
"What, you wanted a gold-plated invitation?" There's only so much I can do. Now hurry up and get your ass into some clothes." Ian shooed Tom into his bedroom.
"But what if she blows me off?" Tom asked through the door as he got dressed.
"Then we go get drunk again, and you set your sights on someone else. This isn't the time to be worrying about the negatives we're on a tight deadline here."
"We are?"
"Yes, she said her flight is leaving around six tonight. So figure an hour to get to the airport, another couple to actually get to the plane. We probably only have a couple hours to find her, and that's not taking into consideration the time it's going to take for you to get over there."
Tom exited his room, wearing clean clothes and feeling much better on the whole. "But what if this isn't what I want?"
Ian held out Tom's coat. "Too late for that now, the dice have been cast, it's time to see how they fall. Now scoot, you're running out of time." Ian pushed Tom towards the door.
"You aren't coming with me?"
Ian shook his head, "Only you can make this journey Tom. I'll be of no use to you. Besides I have to check up on the store, and make sure none of those dunces who work for me have burned the place down."
"And if I don't go to Daria?"
Ian shrugged, "It's no skin off my nose. I just set things up for you, if you don't take advantage of that opportunity it's your lose. I can't force you to go but you'll be stupid if you didn't."
Tom nodded, "Thanks Ian, I know I've been a pain in the ass these past few days." He held out his had.
Ian shook the outstretched hand, "That's ok, provided you stop being such a horse's ass soon it's all good. And you're welcome." The two friends made their way down to the street and parted company.
"Good luck Tom."
Tom laughed, "Thanks, I'll need it." Tom stepped in to a waiting cab and drove off towards the section of town Daria's hotel resided.
"That poor bastard is going to need all the help he can get." Ian thought to himself before setting off for his store.
Tom stared out the window of the cab. "What the fuck am I going to say to her when I get there?" he wondered to himself. "I mean, she told me to go fuck myself...I think." He frowned, his memory of the events that had transpired the previous evening was still indistinct. "Daria was there, and we fought, but what did we say? Hmm, maybe that's my angle, yeah, that might work." Tom began mentally drafting his apology as the cab picked its way through the streets of London.
Daria was in the bathroom brushing her teeth when she heard the knock on her door. She walked over to the door, brushing as she went. She opened the door and there he was, Tom.
"Tom?" Daria asked around her toothbrush and mouth full of toothpaste. "What are you doing here?"
"Daria, I couldn't let you leave without telling you something." He motioned to the packed bags by the door.
"What?" Daria asked simply.
"Don't go, not yet at least. Daria, there's so much I want to say..." He stopped and ran a hand through his hair as he gathered his thoughts, "Look, I'm sorry about the way I treated you in the past, I was a fool, I made some really bad mistakes and I understand totally if you don't want me back, but I've grown to realize that there's no one I've ever been with who's meant more to me than you. I can't let the chance to fix my mistake slip away. Let me show you how much you do mean to me. And if there's even the slightest bit of reciprocal feeling in you please let me make it up to you." He sagged against the door frame. "Daria will you give me that opportunity? All I want is a bit of your time. Please?" He asked plaintively.
Daria stared at him dumbfounded, "I'm going to go wash my mouth out," she gurgled. "We'll talk when I get back." She walked back to the bathroom slowly and rinsed her mouth out. She returned at the same slow place. Tom was still standing in the doorway. A strange buzzing sound started emanating from some unknown location.
"Tom," Daria said. "You were a jerk, and an asshole back then, and do you know why?" Tom shook his head. "Because you were the first person who I considered an equal who I ever felt attracted to. You were an easy guy to talk to Tom and I appreciated that. And then you seemed to be attracted to me, how could I resist? What I'm trying to say is that I fell in love with you very easily Tom. I jumped into our relationship without ever thinking about looking where I was going. And the hell of it is that I don't regret it one bit. And then it was over and that was that, or so I thought. Then I saw you and it all came rushing back, and now I..." Daria didn't finish her sentence, instead she grabbed Tom and kissed him fiercely.
Tom looked at Daria lovingly before speaking, "I'm glad you feel that way, why don't you tell Tom."
Daria looked puzzled, "Huh?"
The buzzing increased, "Time to wake up Daria." Tom said gently.
At that moment Daria's eyes snapped open and she shot up in her bed, Tom was nowhere to be seen. "Oh fuck." Daria said. She reached over and pounded on the alarm clock, the source of the buzzing. "Well hell, now what am I going to do?" She thought to herself, "Fuck fuck fuck." She sighed, "Hell, I guess it's pretty fucking obvious, shit." She continued to curse to herself as she showered and dressed. Daria was drying her hair when she glanced over that the desk in her room and noticed the telephone. "Hmm, I wonder," she thought to herself. She dropped the towel, sat down in front of the desk and activated the phone. "Good, it keeps track of incoming calls as well," she mused after perusing the menu options. After a few more key taps the information she sought was in front of her. Daria smiled ever so slightly as she printed the contents of the screen. She then finished getting dressed and walked out of the room, taking the "Do Not Disturb" sign off the door as she went. In the lobby she paid her bill and left the hotel. A doorman hailed a cab for her. Once in the cab she handed the paper to the driver.
"Take me here." She said simply.
The driver looked at the paper and shrugged, "It's your schilling," he replied as he pulled the cab into traffic. Daria stared out the window impassively as the cab darted through the mass of cars.
She sighed, "Well, for good or ill I made a choice. I wonder where it will lead?"
"Eh? What's that miss? The cabbie asked.
Daria grimaced, "Nothing, just talking to myself."
The man nodded, "Love troubles?"
Daria's glare bored a hole into the back of the man's head. "I was talking to myself because I'm the only person who's opinion I care to hear at the moment,"
The cabbie held up a hand defensively, "Okay, okay I can take a hint, besides you seem to have already made up your mind."
Daria nodded, "That's right, I have."
The cabbie chuckled, "Glad to hear it, you wouldn't believe all the dumb schmucks who come looking to me for advice. Like I know everything just because I drive a cab and listen to people bitch about their petty little problems, it's absurd."
"I know the feeling, trust me."
The driver chuckled, "I can see you're not too keen on talking, so would you mind if I turned on the radio?"
Daria shook her head, "Go right ahead." She leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes, and waited for the ride to finish.
At that moment Tom was also sitting in a cab, though with much less patience than Daria. He kept fidgeting with his hands and tapping his foot. Just to vary the routine he also glanced at his watch approximately once every thirty seconds. The cab driver took all of this in with a bemused grin on his face.
"Got a hot date tonight?" The cabbie asked.
Tom looked up at the driver. "Well kind of. I'm trying to keep my ex girlfriend from flying back to the States."
The cabbie nodded, "You know you might want to let her go, give her some time to cool off."
Tom shook his head, "She's had ten years to cool off, if I don't do it now I don't know when else I could."
The cabbie arched an eyebrow, "Ten years huh? You must really be nuts about here to try to rekindle a flame that old."
Tom shrugged, "What can I say, we clicked."
"I guess so, though I have to ask, if the two of you clicked so much why are you in a cab without her, and in such a big hurry?"
Tom rubbed his hands on his pant legs, "Well, she doesn't quite know we've clicked yet."
The cabbie laughed, "Ah, one of those situations, any clue how you're going to convince her?"
"So far the best I've come up with is intense groveling and blaming demon rum for my behavior, and for my current ignorance of said behavior." Tom replied.
"You poor bastard," the cabbie said, "you're dead meat, you know that right?"
Tom nodded sadly, "Yeah, I know, that's part of my plan, go there throw myself on my sword and hope for the best."
"The desperate man angle? Yeah, that might work, but can I recommend a bar for you if it doesn't?"
Tom chuckled, "By all means though don't tell me just yet. I'm trying to keep a positive attitude here."
The driver laughed, "Alright mate, you do know that relationship advice means an larger tip."
Tom shrugged, "If all goes well I'll give you enough cab fare to drive to Scotland and back."
The driver chuckled as he pulled the cab up in front of the hotel. "Well then, best of luck to you."
Tom got out of the cab and quickly stuck his head back inside. "Would you mind waiting for me?"
The cabbie shrugged, "You'll be on the meter."
Tom looked at the man evenly, "I'll buy this cab if it would keep you here."
"Well in that case your wish is my command."
Tom nodded in thanks then dashed off into the hotel. He made a beeline for the elevators but groaned when he saw the mass of people waiting for their arrival. He stood in the crowd for several long moments before glanced at the stairwell.
"What the fuck," he thought, "it's only three floors and I'm in decent shape." Tom bolted for the stairs and slammed into the door to the stairwell, banging it open. He launched himself up the stairs, taking them two at a time and with such velocity that his momentum carried him into the wall when he reached the first bend. He paused momentarily when he reached the third floor to catch his breathe.
"Okay, maybe I'm not in as good a shape as I thought I was." He wiped the sweat from his brow then continued on. He opened the door with a bang and skidded to a stop in front of a floor layout diagram. He studied it intently and tore off in the direction indicated. Tom ran down the hallway, dodging hotel guests and cleaning staff as he went. He turned the final corner and nearly collided with the cleaning cart sitting outside the open door.
"Son of a bitch!" Tom swore. He pushed the cart out of his way and walked into the room.
The cleaning lady, who had been changing the bedding looked up when she heard Tom. "Can I help you sir?"
"Yes, where's the person who's staying in this room?"
The maid shrugged, "I don't know sir, the 'Do Not Disturb' sign wasn't on the door, and there aren't any personal items in here. I'd say the patron's already checked out. Sorry sir."
"Fuck." Tom muttered. He pivoted on his heels and sprinted out of the room.
The maid shrugged, "Yanks are so odd," she said to herself as she continued with her job.
Tom raced down the hall at break neck speed. He banished all thought, instead he focused on getting back to the lobby as quickly as possible. The elevator was never even considered. Tom headed strait for the stairs. He did not even break stride as he hurled himself down them, thoughts of personal safety momentarily on hold. He shot out of the stairwell like a bullet from a gun, only to crash into a bellhop burdened with luggage. Tom apologized profusely, but only gave perfunctory assistance to the fallen bellhop, who glared at tom while the latter man continued on his way.
Not mollified in the slightest by the incident Tom kept up his rushed pace to the main desk. Fortunately volume at the desk was light so he did not have to stand in line. He came to a stop in front of the desk, breathing hard.
"May I help you sir?" the desk clerk asked, slightly bemused.
Tom nodded, "Daria Morgendorffer," he said breathlessly, "when did she check out?"
The clerk looked down at his computer screen, "Morgendorffer, let's see." He tapped a few keys, "Here we go, oh my you just missed her, she checked out about a half hour ago."
Tom banged the desk in frustration, "Shit!"
"Is there anything you need sir?"
Tom shook his head, "Nothing you could tell me." He broke for the door before the clerk could respond. Tom ran out of the hotel then skidded to a stop. "Hold up Tom, stop and think this out." He ordered himself, "Daria's checked out of here and her flight leaves in about," he checked his watch, "four hours. Ok, I can catch her before she gets on the plane...shit, I don't even know what airport she's going to." He reached for his cell phone and dialed Matt's number. "Hey Matt." He said as he started to pace. "I need another favor. I need you to find some flight information for me as quickly as possible."
"Hey man, you aren't on your cell phone are you?"
"Well yeah, why?"
"Prank call, don't know you, don't know what you're asking for, I'm hanging up now." Matt shouted into the phone.
"Hey, wait, this is an emergency, same person as before, flight to New York, leaves at six, where and what airline. That's all." The line went dead in response. "Fuck." Tom swore as he kicked at a piece of litter. He stood still for several long moments before his phone chirped. "Hello?" he asked.
"Just thought you'd like to know the public record has twenty flights from London to New York leaving at six from both Gatwick and Heathrow."
"That seems like a lot."
"Popular time for business travelers, they can be home in time for dinner. Don't call again." The line again went silent.
Tom hung his head, there was no way he could figure out which flight Daria was on, and guessing didn't seem like a very productive use of his time. "I guess I'll have to reach out to here when she gets back to New York and hope for the best." He sighed and walked over to the still waiting cab.
The cabbie was leaning against the hood of his taxi when Tom walked up. He noticed the fact that Tom was alone. "Didn't go so well huh?" He asked sympathetically.
Tom shook his head slowly, "She wasn't there."
The cabbie nodded, "So where to now?"
Tom shrugged, "I don't really know."
"You don't have her flight information?"
Tom shook his head "All I know is that her flight leaves at six, and that's all."
"And getting from one airport to the next would be damn near impossible in the time remaining," the driver mused. He shrugged, "Want to go to that bar I was telling you about?"
"thanks, but I've had enough to drink this weekend already. I'll just walk myself home. I need some time to think, sort some stuff out in my head."
The cabbie nodded, "Well best of luck to you then."
Tom smiled weakly, "Thanks." He took out his walled and retrieved his money card from it, "Hope you don't mind, I'm a little short on cash right now." He keyed a figure into the card and handed it to the cabbie.
"Sir, there's no way I could this much." The cabbie said in amazement.
"Yes you can, just think of it as a tip."
"Well thank you sir, thank you very much indeed." The man said, pumping Tom's arm up and down.
"You're welcome." Tom replied while gently disentangling himself. Tom left the cabbie standing in front of his cab and set off for home, alone.
Tom took his time as he walked home. He gazed into window displays. He studied the clouds in the sky. But through it all he continued to dwell on Daria.
"It's really no big deal," he thought, "I mean now I know where she lives so it'll be easy to look her up and say everything I was going to say today then. Who knows maybe she'll be more receptive when she's in her territory." He stopped and examined his hands, "Then why do I feel like I just missed the fucking boat?" He had wandered into a park that over looked the Thames. Tom kicked some of the fallen leaves in disgust. "Because we're both creatures of habit, and the only way to reach Daria is when she's out of her protective shell. Plus she'll want to know why I couldn't say anything to keep her in London, and if I was willing to let her leave why should I bother going to see her." He sat down on a small knoll and watched as the sky reddened. "If only I could call her or..." He paused as realization struck, "She's got to have a cell phone, and I bet I know who's got the number, or at least can get a message to her." Tom hurriedly grabbed his phone and dialed into the London Information Grid. From there it was a quick hop to the NYIG, and the information he needed, the phone number for Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer. He dialed the number and waited. It took a while for the connection to be made; even that advanced day and age calling a person on the other side of the globe took some time. Tom was glad the phone didn't ring too long before being answered.
"Hello?" a female voice said.
"Um, hi, er, Quinn?" Tom asked.
"Yes, this is Quinn." Quinn replied, sitting up. She had been spending a lazy Sunday in bed, "Who is this?"
"It's Tom Sloane, remember me, from Lawndale. I used to date your sister."
"Of course I remember you Tom. Is Daria there, is she having you call to tell me she'll be staying a little longer?" She clutched the bed sheets in anticipation.
"Err, no." Tom said, puzzled. "I was calling to see if you had her cell phone number handy, I went to go see her at the hotel, but she'd already left, and I don't know what flight she's on so I can't stake out the right gate so I figured I'd call her but..." Tom trailed off.
Quinn laughed, "Don't worry Tom, I'll go get her number right now." Quinn walked into the main room and pushed a few buttons on the phone console. "Are you on a phone with a data link?" She asked.
"Yeah."
"Ok, I'll just send the number over the. Oh, do you want her flight information as well?"
"Sure, that would be great."
"Ok, she's taking United, flight 1121, gate 41 out of Gatwick."
"United 1121, 41, Gatwick, got it. Thanks a lot Quinn."
"You're welcome Tom," Quinn said with a smile, "Good luck, I'm pulling for you."
Tom chuckled, "You and the rest of the world it seems, of course this is Daria we're talking about so I need all the support I can get."
Quinn laughed, "Oh, I don't know about that, but still I'm rooting for you. The two of you were a great couple."
This time it was Tom's turn to laugh, "Quinn, everyone says that when couples break up, but I appreciate the sentiment. Now I really have to go, running out of time."
Quinn looked at a clock, "Oh god yes. Why are you talking to me, go, go."
"Say hi to Dave for me." Tom added before hanging up.
Quinn turned off the phone and crawled back into bed. Dave rolled over and wrapped his arms around her.
"Who was that?" He asked sleepily.
"Oh, Tom Sloane."
"Tom huh, What did he want? Had to do with Daria right?"
Quinn nodded, "Yeah, he wanted to know her cell phone number."
"Did you tell him she usually leaves hers off."
"Shit! I knew I was forgetting something." She shrugged, "Oh well I gave him her flight information as well, he can catch her at the gate."
Dave nodded, "True." He looked at Quinn, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Now where were we last night?" Soon all thoughts of Daria and Tom were pushed from Quinn's mind.
Tom stared at the number on his phone's display. Steeling himself he highlighted the number and pushed the send button. For the second time in as many days he waited for an answer from Daria, only this time he was greeted with a warm, "We're sorry, the number you're trying to reach is not in service at the moment."
"Fuck!" Tom cursed. "Wait a minute," he thought, "they still require you to turn off your cell phone when you're on a plane, maybe that's it. Now what was that flight information?" Tom scanned his memory, "Right, that's it." Tom called up the number for the Gatwick United terminal from the listing database and set the phone to dial the number. This time he did not have to wait long for an answer.
"Hello, United Airlines, how may I help you?" a cheery British woman asked.
"Yes, has Daria Morgendorffer checked into Flight 1121?" Tom asked.
"One moment please sir." The polite voice replied. "Sir," she said a minute later, "it seems that she has not checked in for that flight yet."
Tom frowned, "Ok, well could I leave a message for her when she does?"
"Certainly sir."
"Can you tell her to call Tom Sloane," he gave her his number, "and could you tell her it's urgent that I speak to her before she leaves."
"I'll see that she gets the message sir."
"Thank you." Tom said.
"You're welcome sir, have a nice day."
Tom mumbled his reply as he turned off the phone. "Now all I have to do is wait," he mused. He sat on the knoll, fidgeting. Six o'clock came and went and still no call. Impatient, he dialed the number for the terminal.
"Hello, United Airlines, how may I help you?" a different, but still cheery, voice asked.
"Yes I was wondering what the status of Flight 1121 is?"
"Flight 1121, service to New York City?"
"That's the one."
"Flight 1121 is on time, with all passengers on board. It's on the runway right now in fact."
"Did a Daria Morgendorffer board the flight?"
A pause, "No she did not, is there anything else I can help you with?"
"No, you've been more than helpful." Tom again switched off his phone and sat back, thoughts swirling in his head. Daria had not gotten on the flight, what did it mean? "And where the fuck is she?" He wondered aloud. The oncoming chill of the autumn night cause him to shiver. "Wherever she is I won't find her here, go home, call Ian, plan the next move." He told himself as he walked across the park, kicking at the autumn leaves as he went. His mind never strayed to far from the central question, "Where did she go? Maybe she had another assignment pop up, maybe she took an earlier flight." Tom broke into a jog, the sooner he got home the sooner he'd know, that much he felt sure of.
By the time Tom finally made it back to his apartment building night had firmly descended on the old city. Tom bounded up the steps to the building and nodded at the doorman as he walked over to the elevator.
"Mr. Sloane!" The doorman called out. "The elevator's busted, you'll have to take the stairs."
Tom sighed, "Ok, thanks George."
"Oh, you have a visitor too." George called out, but Tom was already in the stairwell and didn't hear him.
Tom slowly climbed the stairs, he had been on the run for most of the day and it had taken its toll on him.
"Maybe I'll just leave the mystery of Daria alone for the moment and take a nap," he thought as he pushed open the door to his floor.
"So there you are." A familiar voice off to his right said. "I was wondering if you'd ever get here."
Tom spun in amazement to face the source of the voice, and there she was, right in front of the door to his apartment, Daria. "Huh, what?" Was all his tired brain could manage.
Daria smiled, slightly, as she held up a piece of paper. "The hotel phone system records all incoming calls, even hang-ups."
"Ah," Tom said, still dumbfounded by this change of events.
"Well are you going to kiss me or just stand there like an abject moron?" Daria asked, bemused.
This snapped Tom out of his daze and he did as he was told. When they came up for air he looked at her, still not quite believing this was happening. "So why are you here?" He asked lamely.
Daria sighed, "Because in the end it seems I care about your more deeply than I realized and that I'd be a fool to let you get away this time."
Tom chuckled, "I was thinking the same thing, and spent the better part of today running around London trying to tell you that."
"I'm flattered that you would undertake such a futile effort on my behalf. But don't think this means I'm about to abandon my life in New York to come live here."
Tom kissed Daria's forehead. "We can talk about that later. Right now let's just enjoy the moment, ok?"
Daria nodded, "Ok."
Tom's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten all day. "Want to start this off with a dinner date? My treat."
Daria again smiled that ever so slight smile, which spoke volumes to Tom. "Sure, so long as it's your treat, and I get to order the most expensive thing on the menu, payback's a bitch Tom." Tom just laughed.
They left Daria's luggage sitting in Tom's apartment and walked over to the stairs, Tom resting his arm across Daria's shoulders. As they rounded they opened the door to the stairwell Tom looked down at Daria and asked, "Want to go to a high school reunion?"
-The End-