ESTRANGESTERS
Chapter Six

Helen Morgendorffer drove her SUV homeward in tight-lipped, white-knuckled silence. She shot frequent angry glances at Quinn cringing in the front passenger seat, as if about to break into an angry tirade, but said nothing. That is, nothing after she'd snapped "Not a word out of either of you until we get home!" as they were getting into the SUV in the school visitors' parking lot.

Daria had instinctively taken the back seat, but was beginning to wish Quinn was back here instead. Helen was holding herself under tight control, but that could be as intimidating as being in an ICBM silo, staring at the missile's warhead from a few feet away. More so, actually, because Daria and Quinn knew that they were Helen's targets, and that, when they reached 1111 Glen Oaks Lane, she was going to detonate.

Quinn was feeling this as intense pressure, and was buckling under it. Despite strict orders to the contrary, she was fighting a losing battle with an urge to blurt out something, anything. Daria did not understand this urge, tending herself to go silent in similar circumstances, but she'd seen it in operation enough times to be able to tell when it was about to kick in. She couldn't predict what her flaky sibling might say, but she knew it was very unlikely to be helpful. So when Helen would turn to glare at Quinn, Quinn's blurt reflex would kick in, Daria would clamp down, and Quinn would remain silent, or at worst go "mrp!" or "eep!". Daria was grateful that the drive home was a short one, and she was pretty sure Quinn was, too.

On the way from the car to the front door, Quinn lightly elbowed Daria, and, looking distinctly unhappy, nodded to her. Daria nodded back. When they got inside, Helen set her briefcase down by the staircase, but made no move to change out of her power suit or even slip off her pumps. "Sit down, both of you," she said, indicating the sofa.

When they were seated, Helen, who had remained standing, turned her full attention on Quinn. "Let me see if I understand this. You've been telling everyone at school that you're an only child, and that Daria is your cousin, or your au pére, or the gardener's foundling child, and when she contradicted you, you got mad and said things that at least twenty boys understood to mean that you wanted them to beat her up for you."

"They misunderstood me."

"Bull. I defended that position with Ms. Li because I had to, to keep you from getting expelled. That doesn't mean I believe it."

"I didn't tell anyone to beat her up. I was just talking to a guy and she comes up with that weird friend of hers and starts saying she's my sister and then she demands that I tell people that too and I say no way geek I have a lot of friends and you better quit saying that and then she makes me look like a creep and a spazz in front of everybody and bump into Kevin and get knocked down and so a few of my friends decide they should teach her a lesson and they kind of bump into her just a little but then she kicks poor Wally and knocks him out and stomps on him while he's unconscious, and like she's not a monster? Yeah, right!" Quinn crossed her arms and glared at Daria, looking the very picture of justification.

The look Helen gave Quinn had a good bit of puzzlement mixed in with the anger. "Quinn, that's ridiculous. If you're going to lie to my face, you'd do better to just go to your room now and start serving out your punishment, rather than adding to it."

"I am not lying! She's always trying to embarrass me and ruin my popularity!"

Helen turned to Daria. "Daria, is what she said true?"

"I did not make Quinn bump into Kevin and get knocked down. She did that all by herself. 'Poor Wally' was the second of her swains to come up behind me and throw a block into me. I didn't knock him out; I used a self-defense technique that caused him to faint for a second. And I didn't stomp on him, I just stepped on his finger a little to emphasize my point that he shouldn't be picking on poor defenseless girls."

Helen looked even more puzzled now. "What about her claim that you try to embarrass her and ruin her popularity?"

"If refusing to support her stories about me being her cousin or her au pere or the housekeeper's daughter embarrasses her and ruins her popularity, then I'll have to plead guilty to that one."

"See?" Quinn crowed. "She admits it!"

"Quinn! Where did you get this bizarre idea that Daria can ruin your popularity by just being your sister?"

"Muh-O-om! Just look at her! The way she dresses, the way she walks, those awful glasses, her refusal to wear any makeup at all, not to mention the fact that she's a raging brain and proud of it! I can't let anyone find out she's my sister!"

"Quinn, that's ridiculous! You can't choose your family; everyone knows that. Everyone who ever had a brother 0r sister thought there was something wrong with them. But even if they're monsters …"

"… like Sandi's brothers," Daria interjected.

"…that doesn't affect anyone's popularity but their own."

"Sandi's brothers don't go to Lawndale High, and Sandi's brothers aren't Damn Hack death touch ninjas that have half the school terrorized!"

Helen frowned. "What are you babbling about now?"

Quinn was about to tell her at great length when Daria held up a hand to cut her off. "The technique I used on 'poor Wally' was taken from a martial art called Dim Mak. I am not any kind of death ninja, I never said I was, and I'm not responsible for any idiotic rumor that might be going around to that effect."

"You've got the forbidden book of death and you've got the death touch and anybody you touch dies horribly!" Quinn accused.

"Then you'd better be really careful not to tick me off or I'll touch you," Daria replied, pointing a finger at Quinn.

Quinn recoiled in terror. "Aah! See, Mom? See? She's threatening me with her death touch!"

"Quinn, get a grip! You sound like a raving lunatic!"

"You're always taking her side!" Quinn whined.

"She's not raving, and she didn't organize a gang to beat you up."

"I didn't either. I told you, they misunderstood me!"

Helen turned her head. "Daria?"

"I didn't actually hear her telling anyone to beat me up. Some of them were definitely trying to, though," Daria said.

Helen gave Daria a suspicious look. "What did you hear, or see, that might tend to make a rational person conclude that she may have done so?"

A fearful look crossed Quinn's face. Daria carefully kept her expression blank but thoughtful. "Well, after the second guy bumped into me, I saw her watching from a distance and smirking. And yesterday after school, when I was in self-esteem class, I saw her out front with several boys. They all seemed to be waiting. Then Quinn smacked her forehead, said something, and left. And of course she was there at the big brawl today, but I couldn't make out what she was saying."

"Uh huh. What was she doing?"

"Waving her arms a lot, bumping and getting bumped. She got hit a couple of times, but the hits looked unintentional. She caught Li a good one in the kisser, but that looked unintentional, too."

"I can't believe you punched your principal in the mouth," Helen said, glaring at Quinn.

"It was more of a backhand, actually," Daria said.

Helen turned her glare on Daria. "And how is it that Quinn is covered with stings and bruises, and you don't have a mark on you?"

Daria shrugged. "I'm a better street fighter?"

Helen's eyes glinted like stilettos. "Thin ice, Daria. Very thin ice."

Having accomplished her goal of taking a little heat off Quinn, Daria gave a straight answer. "I put all my effort into ducking and dodging the boys and ignored the insects. Quinn seemed to put most of her effort into swatting at the wasps."

Helen glared at Daria for a couple of seconds more, then turned back to Quinn. "And what were you doing in the middle of all this anyway, if you weren't telling those boys to beat up Daria?"

"Like I told you, I was trying to get them to stop."

Helen's glare intensified, and Daria had to clamp down again to keep Quinn from blurting something. "Somehow I just don't see you getting in the middle of all that to try to stop it. You'd do that from a safe distance, if at all. If you were in the front rank of a mob like that, it's because you were leading it."

Quinn was panicking; well into gut-spilling mode, and Helen was doing all she could to force the spill. Daria could tell Helen expected to crack the case right here. She felt as if her mind were being forced to grow multiple arms to seize and control all of Quinn's panicky impulses. With maximum concentration and a delicate touch, she made Quinn say, "No, Mom! I was trying to make them stop! I was!"

Helen continued to glare at Quinn. "Daria?"

"She was there, and she was getting jostled a lot. That's all I can tell you. I couldn't hear what she was saying." The lie left a nasty taste in Daria's mouth.

Helen turned her glare on Daria. "What are you not telling me? What are you covering up?"

Daria carefully added what she hoped would be just the right amount of surprise to her expression. "Nothing, Mom."

The seconds dragged out as Helen continued to stare, a tactic to which Daria was immune. Finally Helen said, "And why were there so many bees and wasps in there?"

Daria shrugged slightly. "Don't know. I've heard some people say they're attracted to the odor of sweat."

"Daria, that's ridiculous. Do you expect me to believe that hundreds of bees, wasps, and yellow jackets, that apparently never interrupted any gym classes, suddenly 'smell sweat' from a scuffle that just started in a hallway, come swarming into the building en masse, and attack some of the participants, but not you?"

Using just the merest hint of a sarcastic tone, Daria replied, "Curses, nailed by your superior logic. All right, I confess. I've been carrying them around in my bra for a week, just waiting to be assaulted so I'd have an excuse to unleash them on some poor unsuspecting yahoos." Seeing the anger flare in Helen's eyes, she carefully fed just a little irritation into her expression. "How should I know why they came in?"

Quinn made a little noise like a suppressed cough. She raised a hand to her mouth and looked down, and made another noise, like 'snrrk'. She sneaked a timid peek at Helen, who had turned her angry glare back on her, then squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hand hard over her mouth. But it was no use. A series of strangled snorts and honks broke into a full-fledged giggle fit.

Recognizing this as tension-release laughter, Helen turned her angry, frustrated glare back on Daria. She couldn't interrogate a suspect with an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Daria, reaching the same conclusion, added by way of consolation, "All I know is that when the fight started there were none, then there was one, then two, and then quite a few at the end. I think they only stung people who were swatting at them, but I can't say that for sure."

Quinn was giggling uncontrollably now, and Helen knew that her best move was to call a halt. The look she gave Daria and Quinn had 'long wooden paddle' written all over it. "Go upstairs, both of you. I'll call you when I can stand you again."

-o0o-

Helen watched as Quinn and Daria disappeared up the stairs, then squeezed her eyes shut and massaged her temples. Dammit she thought, what the hell is going on between those two? How has it built up to this intensity without me noticing it? And what else are they covering up?

Turning and heading to the refrigerator, Helen replayed the last three hours in her mind. There had been a fight at school, that much was undisputed. She started to grab a passionfruit wine cooler, but changed her mind, taking out a can of cola instead and setting it on the counter.

A fight. With Daria and Jane on one side and Quinn and twenty-odd boys on the other. And a few teachers, a student or two, and the principal trying to stop it. Helen took a tall glass from the shelf and put a few ice cubes in it. Result? Apparently Daria and Jane were winning when Li arrived and broke it up. Several of the boys had looked the worse for wear, and Quinn looked like she'd tried to muscle in on a bear raiding a beehive. Daria didn't have a mark on her, and Jane had also looked untouched. I'd give up a long weekend off for a videotape of that fight.

Helen poured an eyeballed shot of rum into the glass and filled it up with cola. She tasted it, smiled, and sat down at the table. What was the fight about? Quinn had claimed to be an only child and Daria had disputed it, that much was clear. Then boys had started bumping Daria and laying in wait for her between classes. Finally, enough of them had gotten organized enough to surround her on her way to lunch, and the fight had happened. According to muddled and contradictory testimony from the boys, Quinn had put them up to it. Quinn claimed they'd misunderstood her, and Daria claimed ignorance.

Frowning, Helen took a generous sip of her rum and cola. Quinn misunderstood by boys? I doubt it. When it comes to boys, Quinn's the Great Communicator. Daria ignorant of whether her sister is telling boys to beat her up? I don't think so. Daria is the arch-nemesis of ignorance.

But this was not typical boy behavior. Teenage boys did not form up into large packs just to beat up on a single girl, unless that girl had put itching powder in all their jockstraps. Even if they did form into a gang, it probably wouldn't be for beating-up purposes. But this time that's exactly what they'd done. Helen meditatively tapped a finger on the glass. And done very poorly, she thought, as if their hearts weren't in it.

Helen took another sip of her drink and lightly scratched the tip of her nose with a fingernail. The more she thought about the boys' behavior, the less sense it made. Granted, Quinn was popular and Daria… wasn't, but they'd been in Lawndale less than two weeks. Quinn hadn't had time to learn twenty boys' names yet, much less wrap them all around her fingers. And Daria would typically be almost totally unnoticed by boys at this point, not on their enemies list. Why were these boys acting this way? How did Quinn manage to collect more than twenty of them and get them all working in co-ordination to beat up Daria, if indeed she did? That's certainly the way it looked. And how did Quinn end up the beaten one, instead of Daria? By all accounts, the two hadn't directly confronted each other. And what about… damn, I need to be writing this down.

-o0o-

As Daria and Quinn reached the top of the stairs, they heard the sound of Helen's heels on the kitchen floor. "Daria, why…" Quinn began, before bursting into giggles again. Under other circumstances, Daria might be irritated that Quinn was laughing at the thought of her with a bra full of venomous insects, but since it had brought a halt to Helen's grilling, she was fine with it.

Quinn made another unsuccessful attempt to say something, then gave up and flopped face down on her bed, still giggling. Daria went into her room and shut the door. She took off her jacket and boots, then flopped on her own smaller bed, face up. Helen was down there thinking, she knew, going over their statements like a terrier worrying a rat, trying to poke holes in them.

After a few minutes, Daria concluded that there was nothing she could do but wait for her mother's next move. Sitting up, she cast about for something to occupy her mind.

She didn't feel like reading, writing, doing homework, or watching TV. What I'd like to do, she thought, is get hold of a few of those boys and practice my puppetry on them. Make them beat on each other some more, or better, make them dance. She smirked at the idea.

Hmm… maybe there's a bug or two in here that I can practice with. Don't see any… I'll try calling one. She closed her eyes and visualized some of the spots in her room where a bug might be hiding. Under the bed, the chest, the desk; in the closet, behind things, under the throw rug, behind the padding…I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE, BUG. SHOW YOURSELF, I COMMAND YOU. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP.

A scratching, skittering noise caused her to open her eyes and look toward the ragged end of the wall padding by the door. When the noise stopped, she concentrated on the command again. COME OUT, COME OUT.

A pair of long thin questing antennae emerged from behind the edge of the padding, followed by a shiny dark brown head. COME OUT. Reluctantly a large cockroach crawled out onto a bare patch of wall near the door, and stopped, antennae waving nervously.

Daria pictured the roach walking down the wall and onto the floor. It tuned jerkily, antennae waving faster, and moved down the wall a couple of inches before stopping. Daria thought she could feel its apprehension and reluctance. She urged it on.

As the roach reached the base of the wall and crept out across the carpet, Daria wondered what to do with it. Her eye lit on a book lying on the floor between her bed and her desk, and the thought of using it as a stage came to mind. She turned back to the roach, and saw that it had turned and run back to the wall.

HALT!she commanded it. It froze. ABOUT… FACE! FORWARD… MARCH! The roach complied, but it was not a happy roach. Daria wondered if she was actually picking up emotions from it. It definitely felt as if she were.

The roach stopped, and she mentally urged it onward. It started forward again, but swerved off to the left. It reluctantly resumed course toward the book, but stopped again after a few more inches. It certainly was not acting happy. Perhaps that was what she was picking up.

Daria finally got the roach up onto the book, resisting all the way. She was becoming convinced that she was indeed sensing anger from him. She was also pretty sure that he was an adult male cockroach, and was not accustomed to being messed with on his own territory.

There was a soft knock on the door. Daria said, "Yes?" As her attention strayed from the roach, it broke free of her control, opened its wing cases, spread its wings, and took off, flying straight at her. Startled, Daria sent it a "STOP!" command as forcefully as she could. It fell out of the air, disappearing from her sight below the edge of her bed just as her bedroom door opened.

-o0o-

Helen looked at the notes on her legal pad uncertainly. Maybe I'm being too negative, she thought, too paranoid. Quinn looked me in the eye and told me she didn't tell those boys to beat up on Daria. She's never lied to my face before. Well, not successfully, she amended. She's tried a few times, but she's always caved and spilled the beans. She was every bit as freaked this time. If there'd been any more beans to spill, she'd have spilled them.

And Daria… Daria almost never lies. It's against her philosophy. She doesn't always tell the whole truth, and sometimes she just clams up, but she rarely lies. And in a situation like this, surely she wouldn't lie, mislead, or withhold information to help Quinn, if Quinn had tried to have her beaten up.

But something was nagging at her, something about how the girls behaved, something that reminded her of... what? Who?

And then it came to her. They were acting like the dons of two rival crime families brought before a Congressional committee. Putting up a united front under questioning, speaking no evil of their fellow mobsters, honoring the omerta. But once mobsters were no longer under scrutiny, they went back to business as usual; drug smuggling, rumrunning, loan sharking, prostitution, and trying to rub each other out. Helen thought of Quinn and Daria and wondered what their racket might be. What did they consider so vital to keep secret from her that they'd band together and lie for each other at a time when their mutual hostility had risen to the level of open warfare? And when was the next St. Valentine's Day Massacre scheduled, and who was going to try to rub out whom?

Helen scowled and took another drink of her rum and cola. No matter which way she looked at it, there were gaping holes and pieces that didn't fit. Either she still didn't have the right angle or she was missing a vital puzzle piece, or both.

-o0o-

Quinn stood in the doorway looking apprehensive. "Why do you think she sent us up here?" she asked.

"She's cooling off," replied Daria, who had read Helen's child rearing books more thoroughly than Helen had. "You know she was steamed over having to leave work, not to mention all that crap she walked into at school. I hope she's having a wine cooler. She could use one."

"Yeah," said Quinn, keeping her voice low. "Hey, uh, thanks. You did pretty good down there. That's, uh, pretty close to what I would've said if we hadn't, um…"

"Been waging psionic war at school?"

Quinn snickered, then said, "Speak for yourself. I'm not cyclonic. But I was surprised you didn't make me sound like it was all my fault."

Daria shook her head. "I'm going for the least fault for both of us. I presented your side as well as I could, leaving out the powers, of course. But I have to tell you that Mom might not have been as favorably impressed as you think. And she's not through with us, by any means."

Quinn looked apprehensive. "Yeah, probably. But you're really being decent about this," she said, a note of wonder in her tone.

Daria knew that Quinn was wondering why. "The quicker the interrogation and punishment phase is over, the quicker her work will push the whole thing out of Mom's head, and the better off we'll both be," she said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Oh. By the way, what you said about carrying those bees around in your bra for a week.. you were kidding, right?"

Daria rolled her eyes. "Oh, no. In fact, it's one of the best ideas I've ever had. I've gone up two cup sizes, and I have the cutest bee-stung nipples now. What's a little agony compared to that, right?"

Quinn giggled as she turned to leave. "Oh, by the way, there's a dead roach on the floor," she said, and pointed.

Daria stood and moved around to where she could see the floor at the foot of the bed. There was indeed a large dead roach there. Huh. I didn't see it there earlier. Could it be… nah, there's no reason for the one I was just messing with to be dead. Although that's about where he would have fallen… Hmm. Something peculiar looking about this one… She bent down for a closer look, and one of its back legs twitched. Still kicking. Maybe this is the one I was messing with, but what killed it? Using a cash register receipt, she scooped it up and examined it more closely. Something wrong with its head. Can't focus that close. Turning and kneeling beside her microscope, she slid the roach onto the specimen table and rotated the lowest power eyepiece into position. She blew some dust off the eyepiece and put her eye to it. Bringing the roach's head into focus, she studied it. mouth parts… right eye… right antenna… jagged hole… Daria blinked and looked again. There was a gaping, jagged-edged hole in the center of its head, as if its brain had exploded.

-o0o-

Daria was seated at her desk, making notes and peering occasionally through her microscope when Helen knocked softly and entered. Daria turned to face her.

"I want to know what really happened at school today," Helen said.

"Between the conference with Ms. Li and interrogating us, you've pretty much got it all," Daria replied.

"Don't give me that. Twenty boys don't gang up to beat up on one girl in a crowded hallway in the middle of the school day. Boys just don't behave like that. And if they did, they wouldn't lose, outside of a bad kung fu movie."

"They'd lose to me."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm bad to the bone."

Helen glared at her daughter. "Don't try to get me sidetracked. Why did Quinn incite those boys to beat you up?"

"She says she didn't"

"I don't believe that. Assuming she did it, why would she do it?"

"Objection. Requires speculation on the part of the witness."

"So speculate."

Daria stared at her mother for a couple of seconds, then said, "Because I'm her sister and I'm not fashionable and popular. Because I refuse to be fashionable and popular or to deny being her sister. Because I exist."

"Those aren't adequate reasons for Quinn to try to get you beaten up."

"I agree."

"I mean there must be some other reason. What is it?"

"I don't know."

"Daria, I want the truth!"

"You can't handle the truth." Oh, crap. Why the hell did I say that?

Helen's glare said 'Six months in solitary. In the dark.' "We'll see about that. Tell me the truth. Now."

Daria thought fast. "All right. You know those bad Japanese movies that start out with Godzilla minding his own business, and then another radiation-mutated monster shows up and says "This town ain't big enough for the both of us," and they get into a big fight and destroy Tokyo? Well, that's how it is with me and Quinn. We're both mutant monsters and Quinn thinks this town ain't big enough for the both of us."

Helen's glare intensified, if such a thing were possible. "You're grounded for a week for lying. And another week for insulting my intelligence." She turned and left, not quite slamming the door on her way out.

"See?" Daria muttered inaudibly. "I told you you couldn't handle the truth." She turned back to her notebook and picked up her pen. "Damn, and I was doing so well, right up until I stuck my foot in my mouth."

--o0o--

Helen closed the door to Quinn's room, frowning, and saw Daria coming down the hall toward her. Not looking forward to another verbal encounter with her eldest daughter, Helen was nevertheless a bit surprised when Daria continued on past her and into her room at the end of the hallway.

Mentally shrugging, Helen continued down the hall and on downstairs. It was nearly dinnertime. Jake would be home soon, and she had to feed her two daughters, even if sometimes she'd like to feed them to something. And she hadn't gotten to any of the legal work that she'd wanted to do. She wanted to show the partners that, even with a family emergency, Helen Morgendorffer got the work done. Well, she'd just open a couple of cans of green beans and a can of tomatoes and nuke a block of lasagna and...

A strange odor stopped her at the entrance to the kitchen. Faint but unpleasant, it smelled like burning hair or... toenails or something. Continuing on into the kitchen, Helen was surprised to see two large roaches lying dead on the floor.

--o0o--

Daria left her door partially open and sat down at her desk. She was staring at her notebook, pencil in hand, when the expected faint creak of the door hinge announced Quinn's arrival.

"Mom grounded me for three weeks, for lying to her, for disruptive behavior in school, and for lying to the kids at school about you! What happened?" Quinn asked without preamble.

"I told you she wasn't through with us, and that she wasn't as sold on our story as you seemed to think," Daria replied.

"Three weeks! My social life is ruined!"

"I got grounded for two, just for helping you."

"Hmph. Some help you were. I thought you were gonna get me off!"

"I never said anything like that. But if I hadn't helped you, you'd probably be in the Psych wing at Cedars of Lawndale right now, getting your head candled. Or at Mrs. Knudsen's Correctional School for Wayward Girls. Or packing up for three months in the wilderness with the next Outward Bound expedition."

"Psht. I doubt it."

"On what grounds? You know Mom and problems. Plenty of money but no time. And she sure as hell wouldn't try to bribe you after this one. She'd deal with you in whatever way would cause her the least embarrassment at work."

Quinn considered this and her expression slowly changed to one of dismay. After a few seconds she asked, "Don't you mean, 'she'd deal with us?"

"No, I don't. I was the victim, remember? You lied about me; I told the truth. You scraped together a couple dozen muscleheads to beat me to a pulp; I just defended myself. All the eyewitness testimony backs me up. The only reason Mom grounded me is because I covered for you instead of telling her what's actually going on. Come to think of it, why the hell did I do a stupid thing like that? Oh, yeah. I had this harebrained idea that if I helped you when you didn't expect me to, when you had no right to ask for help, maybe you'd say to yourself, "Gee, I guess Daria's not so bad after all. She's not popular or fashionable, but it takes all kinds, they say. Come to think of it, I'm sort of glad she's my sister."

"Eewww! You're kidding, right?"

"No, I am not."

"Daria, if it weren't for you, my popularity wouldn't be hanging by a thread right now. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have had to think up those stories. If it weren't for you calling me a liar to my face in front of my friends, I wouldn't have had to ask those boys to help me do something about you. You're the cause of all my problems. Just because you turned around and helped a little with one of them isn't going to make me glad you're my sister!"

Daria's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. "I see we need to have that talk now. "You're the cause of all my problems"? Well, excuse me for existing. First off, I've got at least as much right to exist as you do. Second, my existence doesn't affect your popularity, no matter what I am or what I do. Your popularity depends on who and what you are and what you do. Third, you're not in school to be popular, you're there to learn. You're going to need that knowledge someday, and it'll be too late to go back and get it. Fourth, if you don't want to be called a liar, stop lying. I'm not going to let you get away with lying about me, and there's no reason I should.

I thought maybe if I turned the other cheek one more time and helped you out when no one else could or would, you'd realize you've been wrong about me; that I make a better big sister than an enemy. Apparently I was wrong."

"Turn the other cheek? Help me out? Is that what you call it? I'm all covered with bruises and beestings, I'm grounded for three weeks, and everyone at school thinks I'm insane!"

"Quinn, I went easy on you."

"Easy! You call that easy?"

"Well, yeah, compared to, say…"Daria began. Quinn suddenly yanked her top up to her neck, her bra with it, and shouted, "Hey, guys! If you can catch me, you can have me!"

Daria smiled a tiny smile as Quinn stood there frozen, unable to cover herself. "I bet that would have taken their attention off me real fast, and with a lot less risk and effort than what I actually did. Think about it. Or how about…"

"Clothes are evil!" Quinn proclaimed, throwing off her top and bra and unzipping her jeans, "Clothes are the male oppressors' instruments of our domination! Clothes are the chains of the fashion fascists!"

Daria released her control and Quinn, blushing furiously, turned her back, zipped her jeans up and yanked her bra and top back on. "That would've worked great in Manson's office… or Li's. But I didn't make you do either of those things."

"How dare you!" Quinn raged. "I never did anything to you to justify you doing anything like that to me!"

"You sent twenty guys to beat me up! I could've been seriously injured, or killed!"

"I just sent them to scare you. I would have stopped them!"

"You didn't stop them. I would have been beaten black and blue if I hadn't fought them off myself. You couldn't stop them from beating on each other, or even on you. You don't have that kind of control."

"Well, it's your fault! I'm popular here! Everybody likes me, and you're going around trying to ruin my life!"

"That's ridiculous! "I'm not trying to ruin your life."

"You're telling everybody that you're my sister!"

"I am your sister!"

"That doesn't give you the right to tell people that!"

"Yes, Quinn, it does."

"Well, if you do it again, I'll make you wish you hadn't! And that goes double for using your freak mind power on me! Triple!"

Daria's expression hardened. "Fine. You called the tune, let's see if you can dance to the music. And if you can pay the piper when it's over." She turned her attention back to her notebook.

Quinn stood there trying to think of a killer rejoinder. She gave up, snapped "Fine!", spun on her heel, and stalked out.