_The Look-Alike Series_ Daria fan fiction by Canadibrit with Ben Yee Season 4, episode 10: "Display Model" prose adaptation by Austin Loomis Cast: Quinn Morgendorffer, Ted DeWitt-Clinton, Nathan Caldwell, Lynn Cullen, A.P. McIntyre, Jake Morgendorffer, Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer, Daria Morgendorffer, Jane Lane, Michael Jordan "Mack" MacKenzie, Jodie Abigail Landon, Stacy Rowe, Brittany Taylor, Mrs. Diane Bennett, Mark "Shooter" Renfield, Tim O'Neill, Janet Barch, Mara Fitzgerald, Charles "Upchuck" Ruttheimer III, Tom Sloane, Marianne, Carol McIntyre, Jon Hopper non-speaking: Kevin Thompson, Jack "Beefy Boy" Paterson, the other umLynn, Joey, Jeffy, Jamie White, Brooke Wanamaker, Tori Jericho, Tiffany Blum-Deckler, Robert, Sandi Griffin, Corey, Casey Wright, Andrea Thorne, Guy Mann, Claire Defoe, Irene Morris, Anthony DeMartino name-checked only: Joanne, Rose, Mark, Luke, Kim (Otano?) "I'm too sexy for my shirt Too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts I'm too sexy for Milan Too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan" -- Right Said Fred, "I'm Too Sexy" ACT 1: THE HEADMASTER RITUAL "I just want to play on my panpipes I just want to drink me some wine As soon as you're born, you start dyin' So you might as well have a good time" -- Cake, "Sheep Go to Heaven" _Lawndale High, during school hours_ Out in the hall, Quinn and Ted were standing by her locker, chatting. Quinn looked outraged for some reason as her boyfriend spoke. "It was nice of your friend Stacy to invite us over for that..." "Buffython," Quinn grumbled. "I thought they took a very narrow view of the vampire mythology, though. While the `vamping out' was an interesting concept, there's precedent at least as far back as Stoker that--" Suddenly and without warning, Quinn spin-kicked her locker. It dented. Ted looked at her, astonished. "How can they get *five seasons*," she ranted, "out of some wannabe-popular, wannabe-sarcastic, isn't-really-*either* ex-cheerleader kicking the butts of the *wimpiest* bunch of goons this side of the *Mississippi*? UGH!" Ted was puzzled. "I thought you liked that show." A sigh. "I did," she morosely allowed as. "Then I realized how fake the fight scenes were and the dream was gone." "So your willing suspension of disbelief was disrupted by a flaw in the detail work, thus robbing it of its meaning and any merit it might have had. A truly Stanislavskian construction, then, unable to survive dissection." _Information overload. But if *Daria* got that when *they* were umdating, why should I do any better?_ "If you say so..." That innocent smile that reminded her all over again why she loved him. "Quinn, you never cease to surprise me. There are so many facets to you!" A slightly shadowed smile of her own. "Thanks." Ted, all guileless enthusiasm, spin-hugged Quinn and then kissed her full on the lips. "DeWitt-Clinton!" Caldwell barked. Ted jumped back. "EEP!" * * * The door to the office reception area burst open and Caldwell barged through, puce with frustrated rage, looking more than usual like the principal in _Ferris Bueller_. Quinn and Ted followed him, a bit stunned, not really sure what was going on. "You sit out here with *them,*" Caldwell snapped. "I'll deal with all four of you in a moment." He walked into his inner sanctum and slammed the door behind him. Quinn and Ted turned to look at the "them" he'd spoken of...and facefaulted. "They" were Lynn and A.P., sitting *very* close together, holding hands. A.P. wore a sheepish grin; Lynn, a cat-that-caught-the- canary smirk. "What are *you* two doing here?" Quinn asked as she and Ted sat down on the side nearest A.P. She had a horrible thought. "You two didn't try blowing the place *up* again, *did* you?" "Nah," A.P. replied, still grinning. "Saving *that* for graduation." "Or Prom," Lynn deadpanned. "Whichever." Quinn raised an eyebrow at her anti-sister. "You'd *better* be kidding." There was a brief, uncomfortable silence. After all, Ted was the only one in the room who didn't know why they *mightn't* be. "*Seriously,* what are you--?" "Pretty much the same thing you are, Narcissa." A.P.'s grin managed to get wider. "I got picked for the Carter County Tri-Suburban Science Club trip to Houston -- NASA -- bit before Christmas. I got the news and kinda went Kiki." This netted Looks from Ted and Quinn, who knew nothing of the wonder ferret. "*Poingpoingpoingpoingpoing*," Lynn dryly explained. Piku piku, in stereo. "He had bouncity-bounce." "So I smooched the Peril and..." The grin widened goofily, threatening to split the corners of his mouth. "...she smooched back and--" "Cullen!" Caldwell barked from his office. "DeWitt-Clinton! Morgendorffer! McIntyre!" The grin instantly evaporated, leaving no trace. "...something like *that* happened," A.P. finished grimly. They exchanged looks, then stood up to go take their medicine. _Morgendorffer Home Base, kitchen, that dinnertime_ Quinn, shaking with stress, was talking a mile a minute, gesticulating wildly. Jake looked about ready to explode; Helen, on the other hand, looked concerned for her younger daughter. Daria watched the whole scene play out with dull amusement. "...And *then* he said something about it being a school and not a house of ill *dispute* or something! I mean, it's not like he was trying for second *base* or anything!" "Damn *right* he wasn't!" Jake finally boiled over. "I don't want my little girl making out with some cult *weirdo* right out in *public!*" "Da-AD! It wasn't even making *out!*" Quinn didn't even bother with the "cult weirdo" part -- she'd long since given up trying to set her father straight about "Brother Ted," and she pretty much shared his opinion of Grant Clinton and Leslie DeWitt anyway. Helen intervened, putting things back on track. "Quinn, calm *down* and tell us what happened." "Well, that Lynn girl pointed out that there was nothing in the school rules about kissing on the grounds and *Ted* said that the Constitution gives us the insatiable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness and then *Caldwell* said something about things needing to change around here and the..." It was a struggle, but she managed to remember what he'd actually said. "...increasing moral decay of today's youth." She thought about that a moment. It sounded more like the kind of thing the late Ms. Li would have said, really. "Then he sent us back to class without giving us detention or *anything.*" She allowed herself a slight sly smirk. Helen saw the smirk and got concerned. "Quinn...now don't think I'm being a prude or trying to run your life or anything, but--" Jake slammed his fist on the table. "I don't want you seeing that boy ever again! You're *grounded!*" "DA-*AAAAD*!" "JAKE!" Helen snapped, then turned back to her younger daughter. "You're not grounded, Quinn," she soothingly assured. "Just...be a bit more discreet in school from now on, okay?" A world-weary sigh. "*Fine,* Mom." Quinn got up. "I can't bring him *home,* his parents won't let me take him *anywhere* I normally go on dates, and now I can't even kiss him in *school!* No one over twenty *gets* being in love!" With that, she flounced out. There was blessed silence for a moment. Then, with one accord, Helen and Jake both turned to Daria. "Name your price," Helen said in her most businesslike tone. Daria raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" "You're smart enough to know what I'm talking about. I'm not having her suspended over this -- her academic record is bad enough as it is. How much to keep an eye on her in school?" "Fifty bucks." Helen reached for her handbag. "That's not so--" "Weekly. Payable a month in advance." Helen looked like the proverbial pole-axed ox. "We're dealing with rampant teenage hormones here. Hard cash for hard labor." Helen went into her bargaining tone. "Daria..." Jake had his wallet out, pulled out some bills and handed them to his umdaughter, who took them. "Done." "JAKE!" Daria got up. "Pleasure doing business with you." She pocketed the bills on her way out. Helen frowned at Jake. "What?" he wondered. We can afford it! We never give her much of *anything* and at least she *earns* it when we do!" Helen conceded the point with a sigh. "I just worry about the life lessons we give her with this sort of thing." This led to a thoughtful silence. It would have been a lot *more* thoughtful if they'd known what good societal role models they were, compared to the other side of her heritage. _Pizza King_ Daria, Jane, Lynn and A.P. were sitting in their usual booth. Daria handed each of the other three a bill. Jane looked at hers. "Wow. Christmas comes early this year." "No, I expect you to earn that. I'm on hire to keep an eye on Quinn and twelve eyes are better than four." "Uh, Erudite Emerald? Your add-up's off by four. And two." "Eight pairs of eyes," Lynn explained the metaphor to A.P. "Two pairs of glasses." She took a moment to turn to her sister. "This to do with this morning's incident with The Nose?" Daria nodded. "We're on Hormone Patrol." "We can get Rust in on this too, if you want. Don't even have to pay him; technically, he's ours to order around." "I'd rather not call that in." "Understood. So, Super Soakers loaded with ice water?" Daria smirked. "Her poor makeup job." Lynn got an identical smirk. "Not to mention--" An eerily accurate imitation of an appalled Quinn. "`MY *HAIR*!'" Snickers all around. _Lawndale High, the next day_ A.P. opened his locker, and an avalanche of books, binders and crumpled pieces of paper spilled to the floor. Mack and Jodie, hand in hand, came walking over to him as he stooped to pick things up. They watched for a moment, smirking. Mack finally decided to get his attention. "Hey, A.P." The Maverick looked up with a sheepish grin. "Hey ho, Picard. GPA Girl." Jodie took up the dialogue. "We just wanted to thank you for... you know...last week." "It was sneaky, underhanded and devious," Mack allowed as, "but the ends justified the means. Thanks, man." A.P. was lost. "Come again?" Mack was confused, but tried not to show it. Did this mean getting him and Jodie to the Zen at the same time *hadn't* been the plan all along? And how was he going to find out, given the Big Topic that they couldn't discuss on school grounds? He was just opening his mouth to dance carefully around the issue some more when the PA clicked on. "Attention, students," Caldwell's voice echoed out. "Due to an increasing lack of propriety amongst the students of Lawndale High, some changes have been made concerning our policy on public displays of affection on school grounds. As of today, we will be operating under a three-foot rule." Jodie, Mack and A.P. shared a look. "He's not saying what I think he's saying..." Jodie pleaded with the Universe. "This means that all students and faculty must maintain a distance of at least three feet from all other students and faculty while on school grounds, regardless of gender. First offense will earn the students or faculty members in question a verbal warning. Second offense merits detention or, in the case of faculty, a written reprimand. Third offense will mean suspension or the termination of the faculty members' contracts. That is all." Click. Jodie and Mack looked at each other in horrified dismay, then released each others' hands and stepped away from each other. A.P. got all pale and wide-eyed. ACT 2: THEIR LAW "And if I built this fortress around your heart Encircled you with trenches and barbed wire Then let me build a bridge, for I cannot fill your chasms Let me set the battlements on fire" -- Sting, "Fortress around Your Heart" _The cafeteria, lunchtime_ Brittany was sitting at a table, head on her arms, sobbing. Stacy was sitting across from the head cheerleader, looking uncertain in the face of this behavior. _God,_ she wondered inwardly, _was *I* like this once?_ Aloud, she said, "I *know* you're upset, Brittany, but--" "Oh my *Kevvie!*" Ponytail Barbie dissolved into incoherent sobbing. "But you can make out with your boyfriend *after* school!" At that, Brittany's wailing just got louder; Stacy had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise. "I think we should be more worried about how this affects the cheerleading routines! I mean, Caldwell won't even let us do the human *pyramid* anymore!" "What," A.P. asked as he passed by them with his tray, "they afraid one of you'll look up?" He clapped a hand over his mouth, nearly dropping the tray. "IdontbelieveIjustsaidthat." He walked on. Stacy looked after him in utter confusion. Brittany, oblivious, continued to wail. A.P. joined Daria, Jane and Lynn where they were carefully sitting away from each other. "This three-foot rule is getting *stupid.*" Jane raised an eyebrow. "`Getting'?" "Keeping at a three-foot distance in *here* is something to see," Daria observed as she looked around the cafeteria. The tables were only half-occupied, to maintain the three-foot gap, and several students were lining the walls, carrying trays and looking lost. A glance at the windows showed the heavy rain that was keeping them from eating outside. "Well, Art-Smart Scarlet and I had sort of that problem in our English class. Wimp-in-the-Willows *tried* to push the desks three feet apart and only about half of them fit. I *tried* to tell him that I already *did* the math but he wouldn't listen and when he found out he started making with the tear ducts." "So he went to Caldwell," Jane took up the tale, "and took A.P. and his math brain with him and explained just how many desks can fit into an average classroom if they're spaced at three-foot intervals. So he said that it was negated if there was a barrier like a piece of furniture between them or if they were in class." Lynn smirked. "Loophole..." A sigh. "During class hours only. And only when seated at the desk." "This is getting even *more* stupid." "Stacy Rowe! Brittany Taylor!" The Jacketeers turned at the sound of Mrs. Bennett's voice to see her bearing down on -- Stacy and Brittany. Stacy, frozen with fear, still had a comforting hand on Brittany's shoulder from across the table. "But Mrs. Bennett..." "I'm sorry, Stacy, Brittany...but rules are rules. Come with me." She led them away, keeping the prescribed distance. The Jacketeers rolled their eyes. "And to think I used to complain about being denied the basic freedoms by Ms. Li," Jane muttered. "No you didn't," Daria pointed out. "Didn't I?" "Not as such." "Well, I *meant* to." Jane looked around the cafeteria. "I'm kind of glad I *didn't,* now." They all sat and looked around, then at each other, thinking about it. _Morgendorffer Home Base, the padded room, after school_ Daria was sprawled out on her bed, reading. After a while, she tossed the book aside and started staring at the ceiling, just to give her eyes something to do while she thought out loud. "Okay. I've established that Jesse's too stupid to lie. But I decided *not* to date Trent because he..." She trailed off, blinking, as a realization finally hit her. "He's *not* an irresponsible slacker. Not anymore, anyway." She allowed herself a mirthless chuckle. "Only because Lynn knows how to crack a whip." A deep sigh. "But she has A.P. She's not doing that for herself." She thought about that and raised an eyebrow. "She's not grooming him for me, is she?" Then she came to another conclusion. "I have to stop doing this. Only people with money in the bank can afford to talk to themselves like this. And the Smythes haven't hit me with a trust fund. Yet." The phone began to ring. "Quinn!" Ring. "Mom? Dad?" Ring. Daria sighed, realizing it was up to her, and picked up. "Hello?" "Erudite Emerald?" Said nervously. "Uh...hi." That eyebrow went up again. "A.P.? What's wrong?" "Look, no one ever told us that `the school grounds' meant the parking lot. We got busted by the Penny-Puncher in the parking lot when I got in the Merc for a ride home." A sigh. "And ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking it. So what did she do?" "Nothing *yet.* But she's got something they called a San Francisco Iced Tea and wants to do target practice." "San Fran..." "It's like a Long Island Iced Tea only more...warped." Daria remembered now. "Oh. THAT." Shooter had served her something he said was the Peril's drink of choice, and confirmed that she'd regret asking what the hell was in it. She'd had to admit, it kind of grew on her -- like a fungus. And she could guess that A.P. must be calling from Biers, on either the pay phone or Lynn's cellphone. He was going toward speed-rant mode now. "She's *not* bombed but she *is* pissed off and I don't want her with a gun in that state of mind -- you *know* she's bad enough when she's *not* pissed off! And you *know*--" "I get the picture, A.P. What were you calling *me* for?" That was it, he was gone. "Calmherdown. PLEASEcalmherdown. Atleastgethertoputthedamngunaway..." "A.P. CALM. DOWN." She sighed. "Get Shooter to make *you* a drink if you have to, just calm down. I'll be there as soon as I can." She hung up and barged out of her room. There was a thud. "OW!" "Sorry, Dad. Didn't know you were home..." Thumpthumpthumpthump- thumpthumpSLAM! Jake passed the door to Daria's room, patting his pockets as he traversed the Hypothetical Observer's viewpoint. He suddenly frowned. "HELEN!" he called out. "Have you seen the Lexus keys? -- Helen?" * * * Already out front, Daria headed towards the Lexus, which Jake had parked conveniently in the driveway. She tossed his keys in the air and caught them with a small smirk. "Purple Peril, you taught me well." "DARIA! HAVE YOU SEEN MY KEYS?" Daria startled in place, but then recovered and smirked. "Oops." She jumped into the car and drove off -- -- just as Jake opened the door and came barging out, seeing her turn a corner in his car. "*DARIA*!" _Biers_ Shooter stared at the front door. Suddenly, he heard a motor; then the door was flung open, and Erudite Emerald was standing there. Daria surveyed the scene -- A.P. was slumped over on a table, an empty water glass by his elbow. Shooter was looking nervous. There was a muffled pounding noise coming from somewhere. "That *your* piece of crap Yuppiemobile?" Shooter asked. "Best transport I could get hold of." She nodded toward A.P. "What's with *him?*" "I fed him some schnapps." Daria shot a meaningful look at the water glass, and Shooter got all defensive. "He was getting on my nerves." Daria realized what she could still hear. "What's that pounding?" "She wanted on the range. I let her on the range." Gulp. "I just didn't say anything about letting her *off* again." "You locked her in a room with a gun." "Well, it's better than her being out *here* with a gun, right?" "It is until she realizes that what she packs is of high enough caliber to..." *BANG.* "...blow through a doorknob and latch." Bigsweatdrop. "OhCRAP." Lynn came through the door behind the bar. Shooter vaulted the bar and hid behind Daria. "Would you calm *down?* If I was calm enough to figure my way out, I'm calm enough not to waste anyone on the payroll." "If you say so..." He wasn't reassured enough to move. Daria chose her words carefully. "And you've sufficiently vented?" "I want to ventilate that man." Lynn might have been talking about trouble she was having with an English report. Shooter, not sure who "that man" necessarily was, *still* didn't move. "But you *know* that's not the best course of action." A shrug. "Sure. I'd hire DJ or someone to do it if I was going to. I'm not 100% trained for that sort of thing." "We don't kill him. That's the...well, that's the Smythe way." "Well, what do *you* suggest, `Morgendorffer'?" Daria winced. That stung. Particularly since Lynn was the last person she'd told about her parentage. Then she realized what the "Morgendorffer way" was. "Remember Operation Sound of Silence?" Lynn raised an eyebrow. _Chez Cullen -- the Chamber of Dark Mysteriousness_ Lynn was sitting at her computer, frowning at the screen. Daria was sitting cross-legged on the bed. Jane was poking through a stack of papers on the floor. Daria decided to get the ball rolling discussion-wise. "Okay, for a protest, what about another sit-in of sorts? Standing *exactly* three feet apart, blocking something important?" "Bathrooms? Teacher's lounge?" Jane allowed herself one of her trademark evil smirks. "Caldwell's office?" "This is Caldwell," Lynn pointed out; "he'd probably push past us. And, if we blocked something important, then *we'd* be the bad guys, thus validating what he's doing." Daria sighed. "Not *again.*" "You get used to it. -- I think." "Well, we have to do *something,*" Jane snapped. "I mean, this is..." She came across something on a paper that caught her eye, and another smirk slowly began to grow on her face. "Heeeeeeeeeeeey..." "I'm as evil as they come and *that* just plain *scares* me." "What are you *thinking*...?" Daria wondered. "Oh, I think *you* at least will like this, Lynn," Jane airily observed. "You remember your research on the 60's for that paper in Mr. D's class?" Lynn took time to dredge up the memory. "What, peace, pot, protest and p..." She trailed off as it hit her. _And promiscuity._ "Jane, you are *evil.*" Jane's only reply was a broadening smirk. Lynn answered it with one of her own. Daria, who remembered that day mainly for the events that had set Operation Sound of Silence in motion, was *very* confused, and a bit frightened. ACT 3: ADORE "Everything just passes by, I thought it always would but then I kissed her..." -- The Jesus and Mary Chain, "Snakedriver" _Lawndale High parking lot, the next day_ A fairly large group of students had gathered, all nicely paired off. Notable in their presence were Kevin and Brittany, Jodie and Mack, the umLynn and Beefy Boy, Quinn and Ted, Brooke and Joey, Tori and Jeffy, Tiffany and Jamie, Stacy and Robert -- Stacy looked fed up -- and Sandi and Corey (in that pair, *he* looked fed up). A few Oakwooders had come to support their Lawndalian significant others: Mara was with Upchuck -- who was sporting the new look she'd picked out for him, black jeans and a soft gray button-up shirt with his hair in A.P.-esque disarray -- Casey with Andrea, and Guy with Jane. Daria and Tom were standing near each other, but not exactly side-by-side, looking nervous. Lynn and A.P. were standing on the hood of the Merc; Lynn had a bullhorn. "Okay, we all know what we're going to do?" Cries of assent. Daria and Tom managed to look even *more* uncomfortable. "Okay then! This keeps going until the man breaks! And thanks to Jane Lane for coming up with this idea. Let's give her a hand!" Jane glared and blushed at the same time as the group broke into cheers -- all but Daria and Tom, who looked still more uncomfortable and glared at her a little. Lynn offered Jane a hand; the artiste took it and climbed up onto the hood, grabbing the bullhorn. "And remember, people..." She started singing as badly as usual. "o/` Don't talk, just--o/`" "Tuuuuuuuuunecrime!" Lynn and A.P. interrupted in unison. "Oh, come *on!* It's *appropriate!*" "Get outta here, Art-Smart Scarlet! We got stuff to do!" Jane just smirked as she spoke into the bullhorn. "Three...two... one...GO!" She tossed the bullhorn into the backseat of the Merc and jumps off the hood, joining Guy. As Lynn and A.P. followed Jane off the car, the students headed into the school in pairs; Daria, Lynn, A.P. and Tom hung back a bit. Daria and Tom looked at each other ever so briefly, then headed toward the school. Lynn and AP shrugged and were starting to follow when they heard squabbling from behind them. They turned to see...O'Neill being bodily dragged toward the school by Barch, he looking mortified, she determined. "But Janet, be *reasonable!*" It's *exhibitionistic!* It's...it's--" Bitter Pill stopped and rounded on him. "I don't want to *hear* it, Skinny! That man *swore* he had nothing against fraternization and dammit, I'm going to make that lying, cheating son of a--" "JANET!" "Oh, come *on*! You joined in the *last* protest, *didn't* you?" Wimp-in-the-Willows was momentarily derailed. "Well...yes. Yes I did. But that was *different.* There'll be impressionable..." Not listening, she dragged him on into the building. Lynn and A.P. shared a look. "Do *you* want to know?" the Peril wondered. "I just wanna find a space as far away from *them* as I can while staying on school grounds." Lynn nodded emphatically, and they walked off. * * * Personally, I think "Justify My Love" or something off the "Sex" album would have been quite appropriate to this montage, but I don't know *any* Jesus and Mary Chain, except the interview where they said one of the band's members has *never* had sex indoors, so don't trust my judgment in the matter. Mr. Caldwell came out of his office into the hall and instantly facefaulted -- at the sight of Mack and Jodie, who looked rather *ahem* busy. Caldwell went back into the room for a moment, came out holding a yardstick, and approached the happy couple, yelling his fool head off. The lip-lock continued -- their only acknowledgement of Caldwell's presence was Jodie's holding out a hand, palm up, in mute invitation for him to talk to it. Caldwell turned brick red and yanked out a notepad, making a note...and his eye was caught by something or someone (names withheld to protect the uminnocent) that made him facefault even further. He turned to Jodie and Mack again...then to the other parties (and I do mean "parties")...then made a gesture of frustration with his hands, one of which was still holding the yardstick, and ran off. Ms. Defoe and Mrs. Bennett walked into the art room, in mid- conversation, and froze dead in their tracks. Jane's red shirt was draped over a piece of the still-life set-up; she and Guy were sitting on another part of it, having rounded first base and looking like they were well on the way to second. They broke off briefly and shot looks at the two teachers -- Bennett looked scandalized, Defoe gave a small smirk. Jane waved cheerily at them both, Guy briefly rolled his eyes as who should say _A little privacy?_, and they went back to what they'd been doing before they were interrupted. The Penny-Puncher was still frozen in her tracks. The Dryad gently led her away, shutting the door behind them. The door of the English classroom burst open, and Caldwell was standing there. He turned *deadly* pale and got wide-eyed, freezing in place for a moment...long enough for a familiar pale purple blouse to fly past his field of vision. He hurriedly shut the door again. Out in the hall, a now-recovered Bennett opened a door to reveal a broom closet in which Lynn and A.P. were making out. They broke off a kiss as the door opened, looking at Bennett for a moment. Then Lynn gave a wide grin and shut the door in her face. Morris barged into the gym -- and froze dead, wanting to keel over and die and not much caring if it showed. Despite herself, her gaze tracked across the gym, where at least ten couples -- Kevin and Brittany, Brooke and Joey, Tori and Jeffy, and Jack and the good Lynn among them -- were scattered across the bleachers and the mats on the floor, all so...busy...that they probably hadn't even noticed her. DeMartino entered the history classroom -- and his eyeball nearly achieved escape velocity. Quinn and Ted were sprawled across his desk; Ted was fiddling with the hem of Quinn's T-shirt, obviously at least *considering* going for second. Cyclops looked about ready to explode. Then, for reasons I'm not brave enough to ask him to explain, his face softened and he walked right back out again, shutting the door behind him. * * * Caldwell was moving down the hall at a pretty fair clip. He approached a door, opened it (with a faint *creak*) and looked in. "Joanne! ROSE! EWWWW!" SLAM! Runrunrun. Creak... "MARK! LUKE! OHMYGODINHEAVEN!" SLAM! Runrunrun. Creak... "Kim! Hello *Kitty?!* OHIMGONNABEILL!" SLAM! Runrunrun. Creak... "Is no place *sacred?*" he groaned as he got a view into the teacher's lounge. Then he realized something. "And who the hell are *you?*" The Ruttheimer boy and some Goth-girl were sprawled out on the Salvation Army sofa. The Chuckster's shirt was unbuttoned nearly to the waist; the girl's shirt, whose overgenerous neckline was (though the Nose didn't know it) typical for her, was askew, baring one shoulder, and her skirt (what there was of it, anyway) was hiked up to mid-thigh. "This *sucks,*" she sighed. "Aren't there any janitor's closets in this place?" "Not nearly enough, my dear. Rowr." The girl rolled her eyes. "Well, want to go *find* one, or let this twink *stare* at us." She considered that a moment, then observed, thoughtfully, "Though the exhibitionist thing *is* kinda...interesting..." Charles gave his usual leer-smirk. "Whatever turns you on, my dark angel...And anyway, having *him* see us *is* the point of all this." She got a nearly identical leer-smirk, though coming from her, it somehow worked. "Anything you say, Big Red..." She wrapped her arms around his neck. Caldwell couldn't help staring. "Big...Red?" The girl turned to Caldwell with a smirk. "Guess what I mean by `Big'..." To their great surprise, the principal somehow managed to go paler than he already was. "Nononononono!" He slammed his way out as Mara pulled Upchuck down on the sofa. * * * In Caldwell's inner sanctum, Daria and Tom were sitting on Caldwell's desk, not looking at each other, their nerves obvious to any observer, hypothetical or otherwise. After a long, uncomfortable moment, Tom decided it needed to be said. "He's...gonna come in here, you know." "I know." "If he does, I guess it would defeat the purpose of this to have us--" "I know." A slight, *very* uncomfortable silence. Tom slammed a fist on the desk angrily. "*Why* did it have to be *us?*" Daria shrugged. "I guess because everyone else was paired off. And because no one in their right mind would want *me* that way unless held at gunpoint." "That's not true, Daria. You're very attractive." A weak smirk. "In the same way that Lynn is, I know. But she has...well, something I'm lacking. I--" "That's bull, Daria." With that, for whatever reason, he grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her deeply. She tensed up for a moment, then responded in kind. He began to slide his fingers gently up her shoulders, trailing them along her neck, and she gave a sigh of utter contentment. They broke for air, and he started kissing her neck. She was totally lost to the sensation. "Oh, Trent..." Caldwell barged in just as Tom was recoiling from the shock of that. His entrance gave a nice excuse for the shocked expressions on both their faces. The principal was breathing somewhat heavily. "All... RIGHT...you two. You...Morgendorffer...are one of the most eloquent students *in* this school. Maybe *you* can explain this...this... hormonal *heyday* for me!" With a visible effort, Daria managed to regain her composure. "I believe I can, yes." She handed him a slip of paper. "Our manifesto, Mr. Caldwell." He grabbed the paper and scanned it, muttering a few salient phrases that caught his eye. "Non-violent protest...unfairness of the three-foot rule..." His eyes bulged slightly. "`Love-In'..." Gulp. "...until the matter is resolved to our satisfaction." He took a moment to recover some of his composure, then looked at Daria. "How many students have *signed* this?" Tom was now also calmed down. "*All* of them, Mr. Caldwell." Caldwell looked at the duo with no little dismay. They looked right back at him with iron calm. _offices of Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, Schrecter and Schrecter_ Marianne was typing madly, with Helen conspicuously absent; even for her, this was an unnaturally harried position. The phone rang, and she picked it up. "Helen Morgendorffer's office," she said, rather more shortly than she normally would. "Is this Helen Morgendorffer?" asked a man she didn't know. "Sorry," she replied, still typing feverishly, "but she's at a meeting with Mr. Schrect--" "I don't care if she's at a meeting with the President of the United *States!* My name is Nathan Caldwell and I'm the principal at her daughters' school--" "In that case, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to recommend you call the girls' father. Mrs. Morgendorffer is going to be unreachable by phone for much of today and it's more than my *life* is worth to interrupt *those* kinds of meetings. Thank you and have a nice day." She hung up as abruptly as she could. _Lawndale High_ Caldwell blinked at the payphone in the hall for a moment, then took another look at the page in the small black address book. Then he put more change in the machine and dialed. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Recorded voice. "You have reached Jake Morgendorffer Consulting. I'm unable to take your call just now..." A sudden burst of blind enthusiasm. "...probably at another client lunch -- it's *great* to be busy again! Jake Morgendorffer Consulting is *back!* I..." He regained his composure with an audible effort. "If you'd like to leave a message, please do so at the sound of the..." "ARGH!" Caldwell slammed the phone down. He thumbed through the book again, inserted more change into the phone and dialed another number. Ring. Ring. Ring. The Cullen girl's voice. "You have reached the home of Lynn Cullen. If you're calling about a date, pizza outing, band rehearsal or similar, please leave a message after the tone. If you're looking for a missed homework assignment, trying to weasel a tutoring session out of me or can't seem to remember where the school is, please hang up and try someone who cares. If you're looking for a parental figure, abandon hope all ye who enter here. I'm eighteen so if you do try putting social services on me, you'll find some fairly unhappy civil servants who don't like their time wasted beating down your door very shortly thereafter." *beeeeeeeeep* Caldwell hung up, rummaged through his pockets, added more change, found the number for the McIntyre boy's house and dialed it. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. He was *just* about to hang up when somebody finally picked up. "Hello?" a woman's voice asked at a vocal speed comparable to the Blum-Deckler girl's. "Mrs. McIntyre? This is Nathan Caldwell from your son's school ...?" He kind of trailed off, unsure how to put it delicately. From her end, there was also silence for a time. A pause for thought? "If Andrew blew something up in the lab again," Carol McIntyre said at length, "I think the school has our credit card number to pay for any damages. If not, send a receipt and I'll have my husband look into it. If Andrew hurt himself in gym class again, and if he's not conscious to give medical insurance information, the hospital should know. If Andrew hurt someone *else* in gym class again, I don't think it was his fault. He's just a little clumsy sometimes..." "No, Mrs. McIntyre, I--" "Otherwise, I guess you should speak to my husband. Sorry to trouble you." "But *I* called Y--" She hung up. Caldwell dug through his pockets, found he was out of change and bit his lower lip. He threw the address book across the hall, hitting the Thorne girl and her large blond boyfriend. They broke off kissing for a moment to give him a matched set of glares, then resumed. He let out a small involuntary sob and broke into a run. Time enough to work out what he was getting away from later, when he was away from it. * * * Tom and Daria were still sitting side by side on Caldwell's desk, still not looking at each other. Daria finally decided it was time to break the silence. "That was...nice." "Y...yeah." Tom thought a moment. "Um, if you're worried... I'm not going to say anything. About...you know...what you said." She cut her eyes toward him very briefly. "Don't make that kind of promise. You have no idea how easy those ones are to break." "Not deliberately, then. It's your business, to tell him or not." "Thank you." The door opened and Mr. Hopper entered, smirking widely. Tom seemed astonished. "Lehrer?" Piku piku. "Lehrer? But..." Then it hit her. _A codename._ "Another *Smythe?*" _Tom knowing, I'd almost adjusted to. Jodie's suspicions, I was *getting* used to. But *this,* on top of everything else -- this is like walking downstairs into the living room one day and finding James Bond and the President of the United States shooting it out with Dr. Fu Manchu and the five original Marx Brothers._ Hopper's -- "Lehrer's" -- smirk widened slightly, which was all it could manage. "By hire, not by blud," he said in his strong Northern British tones, "despite the accent. Exiled British mathematician wi' warped sense of humour; the name fits. Now if yeh'll excuse me, I have an annooncement to make to the rest of the school." Daria and Tom nodded and made their departure. Once they'd gone, Lehrer looked around the office with a wry little smile. * * * Daria and Tom came out the office door, in front of which Mack and Jodie were still making out. The new arivals opted to ignore this, turning and walking down the corridor instead. "`Exiled'?" Daria wondered. "He got into a bit of trouble on a London/Edinburgh run," Tom umexplained. "It's probably better you don't know about that for now. It's in the past, anyway." Daria raised an eyebrow as if unaffected, but a little fear showed in her voice. "Right." Surprisingly enough, it only took her a moment to recover enough nerve to start saying something else. "I--" And the PA clicked on. "Guid afternoon, students," Lehrer said. "This is Jon Hopper, teacher of accelerated mathematics here at Lawndale High. Nathan Caldwell, yuir principal, has agreed to rescind the three- foot rule due to overwhelming student discontent." Cheers broke out among the students lining the halls. Daria and Tom shared a small smile. "On an unrelated note..." There was a noise that could have been a suppressed snicker. "...Mr Caldwell is taking a temporary leave of absence until the end of the autumn term. Until then, it's my honour to take over as temporary principal. And my first act as principal will be to declare this day a school holiday on the grounds that...well, it's a total loss, today, innit? Thank you for yuir attention, and please feel free to take yuir snogging off school grounds -- the point has been more than adequately made. Thank you." The PA clicked off. Daria and Tom shared a look. "Congratulations," said he. "Once again, you've set the educational establishment on its head." Daria shrugged and walked off. Tom looked after her with no little concern. * * * Daria, Jane, Lynn, A.P. and Tom were sitting at a cafeteria table, Rust and the Erudite totally lost in their own thoughts. A.P. looked around: GPA Girl and Picard had just entered the room, hand in hand; at a table a few rows down, Lobotomy Ken and Ponytail Barbie were kissing; Narcissa and Bubble Boy were laughing over some private joke at another table further on, his hand gently covering hers. He turned to the others with a grin. Lynn spoke, with the air of one committing refcrime. "`All is as it once was.'" A.P. felt his brow furrow. "That sounds familiar. Trek, right? That one about the time travel? Classic stuff?" A nod. "I *still* don't believe you remember stuff like that but can't remember a Shakespeare line if your life depended on it." *Big* grin. "`But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? /It is the East, and Purple Peril is--'" Bap upside the head, blushing. "Okay, okay, you made your point, shut up." Jane chuckled. "But you *were* right. Things *are* back to nor..." She caught herself. "...well, as normal as they ever *get* lately." "Oh, of course, but to admit that would involve showing some optimism and I can't bring myself to do that lightly." She noticed her umsister's faraway look. "Daria?" All circuits engaged. "Mmm." Lynn frowned, then turned to Tom, glaring at him for a while. Eventually, he felt the glare and snapped out of it, a bit startled. "Hmm?" Jane sounded a little accusatory. "You two must have had some--" "We're not going there," Tom cut her off sharply. He considered a moment, then added, "Let's just say that we're being quiet for entirely different reasons." All three of them glared at him. He got up and walked out of the cafeteria. They looked at him, a little stunned, then watched Daria for a moment. Presently, she shook herself a little and mused, "`All is as it once was.'" Lynn groaned and buried her head in her arms as Jane and A.P. laughed. Daria blinked at this reaction. "What?" "I'm too sexy for this song." -- Right Said Fred ADAPTOR'S NOTES I don't seem to have mentioned in public before (though I know I told Jan about it in email once) that I always thought of Caldwell (at least, once she provided a description of him) as basically Jeffrey Jones reprising the role of Ed Rooney. I thought I'd mention it now, since this (as she would say) "looks like being" my last chance. The bit about grins that threaten to split the corners of one's mouth is another _Callahan's Key_ reference. Apparently, if we can rely on Jake Stonebender's testimony, you really can do that, at least in a Long Island winter. Ben-san wa dai-H. And remember: what do Hello Kitty, Richard Nixon and the Illuminati have in common? Trust me, you don't want to know. (From the "Grand Merchandisable Clash of Authors" ML) The line about James Bond and the Marx Brothers is taken from _The Eye in the Pyramid_, first book of the two Roberts' (Shea and Anton Wilson) _Illuminatus! Trilogy_, a very mind-blowing book which you ought to go and read now fnord. Obligatory legal blap: Daria Morgendorffer was created (as were the rest of the Lawndale characters) by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis Lynn, and she and her neighbors are copyright 1993, 1997, 2001 MTV Networks, a Viacom company. (As Michelle Klein-Haess has pointed out, work-for-hire sucks the yolks from ostrich eggs.) Monty Python quotes and characters are copright 1970, 2001 Python (Monty) Pictures Ltd. They are here used, without the permission of their creators or owners, in the not-for-profit context of fan-fiction. The characters of Lynn Cullen, A.P. McIntyre and (arguably) the rest of the Smythe Family are copyright 1999, 2001 by Janet "Canadibrit" Neilson. This storyline is copyright 2001 Canadibrit and Ben Yee and was adapted by Austin Loomis (to whom the prose format version is also copyright 2001) with their permission. All other characters, locations and incidents (of which I don't think there are any, actually) are either imaginary or used fictitiously. Any coincidence of names is regretted, and any resemblance to persons living, dead, undead, or wandering the night in ghostly torment is either purely satirical or not my fault. As a "substantially transformative" derivative work, this story is protected by the Supreme Court's decision in re Campbell v. Acuff Rose Music. It may be freely redistributed as long as this copyright notice is maintained intact, but may not be in any way redistributed for profit without the permission of the legal owners of all concepts involved. The present author hereby gives permission for any and all keepers of Daria fanfic pages to archive this work (as if I could stop them). Any publication of this story for profit without the express written permission of Austin Loomis, Janet Neilson, Ben Yee and MTV Networks (like any of that'll happen, especially the last) is strictly prohibited, and violators, if I ever decide to track them down, will be strung up by the thumbs, beaten about the head and shoulders with a free-range carrot, and then handed over to corporate lawyers who will do terrible things to them. On purpose. Austin, and good day. Al D T0 W- Q Fw^Fr O+ Ow+OH+Of m c- MV+ F:111,208,313,407,506 BB+ FCT -DT+ q fJ^fj^fD Oh, and the answer to "what do Hello Kitty, Richard Nixon and the Illuminati have in common?" is that they all have their own groups in Usenet's alt.sex.* hierarchy. You think I'm kidding.