Daria Morgendorffer and Jane Lane have just faced vampires for the first time. Even more unsettling, they've just dealt with Faith for the first time. What does the Cynical Duo do next?
This story starts the morning after the main action of "Wicked Inspiration". It's rated R for sex and language, but I'm skipping over the actual events. The Buffyverse is the possession of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. The Dariaverse is the possession of Glenn Eichler and MTV.
One note on timing: "Is It College Yet" was broadcast in January of 2002. For the purpose of this story, I'll assume that Daria, Jodie, and Jane's college searches occur during the 2001-2002 school year. Since I want this to take place more than a year after "Chosen", I am placing this story during the spring of 2005, and Daria and Jane are juniors at their colleges. Jane has taken summer classes to catch up to Daria.
Inspired Questions
by Eric Jablow
"Ow!"
"Sorry."
"I'll shut the damn alarm clock off." Jane turns and fiddles with the clock radio, and soon they have blessed silence again. She turns toward her friend and says, "Hey."
"Hey."
Jane raises herself up on her elbows and looks at the room. There she is in Daria Morgendorffer's dorm room, her second home in Boston. She'd often been there before; sometimes she had even napped on Daria's bed. This was unique to them, however.
"Dar, you okay?"
"Panicking would just be so tiresome."
They look at each other for aminute, and then Jane says, "Ooh, that was good."
"Yeah."
"It took you a while to get into it. Not used to this sort of thing?"
"Well, this was my first time with a--" Daria turned away, and Jane moved to face her again.
"Mine, too. You're not used to anything like this at all, are you."
"I just can't relax with the few boyfriends I've had."
"Heavy armor. Someday you'll find someone with a can opener."
"All the other times ended up vaguely disappointing for both of us. I've started giving up."
"Started?"
"Okay, Lane, okay."
"Fixing you up with dates has never worked. If you can relax only with a Lane, I could--" Daria keeps Jane from mentioning Trent by the simple expedient of pressing a pillow into her face. Jane taps out and Daria releases her.
"Mmph."
"You asked for it."
"At least I got you to relax."
"Don't look so proud."
"Only someone who's known you for six years could have done it."
"That's what I'm afraid of. I'll never find a husband that way."
"What? No confessions of eternal love?"
"Oh, I'll always love you, Lane. Just not this way."
"Waah."
"Well, only if I'm in extreme need."
"That's the spirit." Jane kisses Daria on her nose. "So, why exactly did you agree? I'm curious."
"Because I knew that if I just went to sleep by myself, I'd have nightmares about those--things."
"Vampires."
"Vampires. Did you see that thing claw its face open after I kicked it?" Daria shudders.
"I saw the aftermath."
"I write about creepy things, but I've never seen anything like that in real life, and I don't care to be reminded of it. Sleeping with you was a better alternative."
"Just consider it my public service for the day. Hey--do you think Jodie would have appreciated my charitable efforts?"
"Jane, were you brainwashed at Lawndale High?"
"You saved me from that."
"Right. So, why did you suggest this? I mean, you turned Alison down."
"You didn't watch Faith fighting."
"Not really. I was busy."
"You didn't see how beautiful it was. Such fury--I could spend weeks painting her. And it just turned me on so."
Daria falls back on her bed, and the two friends just stare into space for a bit. Jane smiles--what they had done the previous night has not ended their friendship. Then, Jane's stomach rumbles; she says, "Daria?"
"I know. You know where the showers are. Grab a robe, and I'll follow you. Breakfast's on me."
Daria and Jane walk into the Libercoffee Cafe; the barista recognizes them, and prepares Jane's triple espresso and Daria's latte. Jane orders pancakes, and Daria orders challah French toast, and they find a corner table.
"So, what are you going to do today?"
"Besides going to a bar and trying to pick up a guy or two?"
"You are very trying."
"I don't know, Jane. Actually, I'm a little frightened about what's out there at night. Somehow, solving my guy problem seems a little unimportant right now."
"I wonder how many of those things there are around here."
"There can't be too many. Enough of those things, and people would know."
"I guess."
"Anyhow, there's string quartet concert at my dorm common room tonight. We can listen to some real music for a change. And, I'll protect you from the ghosties and ghoulies."
"You? I didn't see you fighting."
"I'm more a--no, I'll shut up now."
The waitress delivers their breakfasts, and they spend the next twenty minutes pigging out.
They wave at the waitress, and she comes to the table and hands Daria the check. Daria opens her purse and pulls out a new twenty.
"Got your Yuppie foodstamp, I see."
"Stopped by the ATM after class yesterday." She sets her purse down, and a business card drops to the table.
"What's that?"
"I must have grabbed it along with the bill." Daria looks at it and hands it to Jane.
"WCI? Is this the card Faith gave you?"
"I guess so."
"WCI--what do you think that stands for?"
"I have no clue."
"Seems to be based in Cleveland. They have a post office box, a phone number, and a FAX number. That's odd--the card just says, 'Faith'. No last name or anything." She hands the card back.
Daria looks at the logo on the card. "Do those figures look like Amazons?"
"Pretty much. Curious?"
"Not at all."
"Sure. Are you going to call them?"
"Perhaps I'll send this to 'Sick Sad World'."
"Faith wouldn't like that. We do owe her, you know."
"She led those things to us."
"Still. You going to call them?"
"I'll think about it." They walk outside.
It's a few days later; her bed is made, the room is clean, and Jane has taken her easel and canvases back to BFAC. Daria sits at her desk and tries to type a report into her computer. She's distracted, however. She's making lots of typos, and she's backing up and rewriting a lot of text. Finally, she saves her file and quits. She reaches for her purse and pulls out Faith's card. She stares at it a bit, and then she picks up her phone and punches in the number.
"Damn those stupid poison claws!"
"Sara, every hero has to get wounded sometime. Giles says you'll be Slaying in a week."
Sara struggles with her crutch and a sandwich platter as she walks into the living room of the house that served as Slayer Central. As she gets half-way to the couch, the phone rings. Andrew picks it up.
"216-555-7529. How may I direct your call?"
"Hello? IS this the WCI?"
"Hello. How may I direct your call?" Sara makes her way to the desk and puts the call on the speaker and just listens. Andrew looks annoyed.
"Do you have a public information department?
"Not really. Perhaps I can help you. I'm Andrew. And you are?"
"Sorry. My name's Daria, and I met one of your empl--representatives last week. She gave me her card. I'm a little curious as to what your organization does."
"Well, it's a bit of a secret. Who did you meet any--" Sara interrupts him and says, "Please hold a minute." She presses the mute button on the phone.
"I could have handled that."
"You didn't read Wood's report? That's the girl who--"
"Oh!"
"Just sit down, Andrew. I'll take over from here." She sits down at the desk and brings up a computer file. Andrew leaves the room to sulk, and Sara reopens the connection.
"I'm sorry, Daria. We're a little short-handed here."
Daria replies, "I see." She's a little frosty.
"I'm Sara; I'm Andrew's supervisor this week. He's a bit clueless."
"I guess."
"You met Faith last week."
"Yes. How did you know?"
"We read our agents' reports. You must have some questions about what happened."
"Lots of questions. The first one is, 'What's a Slayer?'"
"Oh, damn. Most people ask what vampires are first."
"Faith asked me if I was a Slayer. What in--what's that?"
"Faith never had much self-control. We don't usually talk about that; it is somewhat of a secret, but since Faith gave the story away, I guess it'll be okay. You know, we're all impressed by you."
"Um, why? Because I killed a vampire?"
"Because you didn't run away screaming. Most civilians tend to panic. Then, that kick of yours was quite cool. We're trying to see how useful a tactic that is."
"Um."
"And, we've all seen your friend Jane's painting. We're all jealous. Some of us would like to commission our own."
"I'll tell her."
"Are you okay? Some people have trouble sleeping after an encounter. We can recommend and pay for a psychologist if you need one. We have some on retainer; I think there's one in Worcester."
"I'm okay, I think. I'm nightmare-free."
"Well, if you give us your address later, we'll send you our 'So You've Met a Vampire' brochure."
"This happens often?"
"Often enough."
"So?"
"Well, you've seen vampires. They're dead bodies animated by a demonic spirit; it's nothing like Anne Rice at all."
"And Slayers fight them?"
"Whatever cosmic force arranged to let vampires into this universe arranged for Slayers to fight them."
"And how do you get to be a Slayer?"
"Nobody knows. The job chooses you; you don't choose the job. Every so often, a girl wakes up and finds she'sbeen Chosen. She gets some truly horrific nightmares, and she gets the strength to fight those things. But she gets pursued by them too."
"Only girls?"
"Yeah. The working hypothesis is that God has a sense of humor."
"You sound like someone who knows."
"I'm on medical leave. Damn thing got me in the leg, and I'll be out of action for a week more.
"Sorry. Look--am I going to have to worry about any more vampires?"
"No reason you should--they're pretty rare, and the ones in Boston are laying real low. We'll Fed-Ex the brochure.
"Thanks. So, what does WCI stand for?"
"It's just a name. We sort of inherited it. We need to keep a low profile."
"Okay, I guess."
"Look--we don't have many friends in the outside world. Could you please keep this conversation confidential? Except for your friend Jane, of course."
"Well, I'm not going to send this to 'Sick Sad World'. I don't need the pain."
"And if you can give me your address?"
"Sure. Daria Morgendorffer, Raft College, Williams Hall Room 232-A, Boston, MA 02134."
"It'll be in today's mail. It's been nice chatting with you; thanks again."
It's a week later. Daria struggles with her books and a few envelopes as she walks into her dorm room. She drops her books onto her bed and starts going through her envelopes.
"Junk. Bill. Bill. Junk. Bill. Bill. Bill." She looks at the last bill; it's much larger than she had expected. "Oh, hell. $150 for a stat book and software. Let's check the bank." She fires up her computer and brings up her copy of Quicken. "Oh, crap." She takes the bill and skims it onto her bed. "Write a check for half, call mom, or let it slide?" She gets her checkbook from her purse; Faith's card pops out with it. "Or, I can try to get a better job?"
She picks up her phone and punches in the WCI number.
Note: That phone number is in Cleveland's area code, and it spells out as 216-555-SLAY.