The Weekend and Beyond

Quinn bolted from sleep, her mind and heart racing. Nightmares of exile blurred in her memory as she sat up, but her mind still whirled. Leaving thoughts of her fall from grace, her sister's heartbreak, and her desire for revenge to churn, she took a deep breath to slow her racing heart. That's right, Quinn. Let the dream fade, thought the corner of her mind not preoccupied with yesterday.

Although her heartbeat did grow more normal, she found she was still on edge, almost vibrating with the need to do something. With a rueful sigh, she thought, If only I knew what to do. Part of her wanted to visit divine retribution on Dawn and Skyler, but another part noted that she'd delivered herself to the precisely because she'd wanted to visit divine retribution on Brooke. She needed a strategy. And a goal for that matter. I told Daria to decide what she wanted out of the new order, and now I don't know. Overcome with the need to move, she almost raced to the bathroom.

On her way out, she sped past Daria. She didn't give herself much time to consider her sister, but the little she saw bothered her. Daria's eyes, usually so observant, were vague and sleepy. Maybe it's because she just got up. I'll check in on her later. Downstairs she found her mother. Helen regarded her curiously. She's surprised I'm awake. Well, so am I.

"Hi, Mom," she said, faking good cheer.

"Quinn?" Helen made a question of her name.

"Just, y'know, up and about," Quinn said, trying to steer the conversation.

Helen was not to be denied. "Daria had a very difficult week at school."

"I know," Quinn said, "I'll try to look out for her for awhile."

"That's very nice of you," Helen smiled, "but that's not what I wanted to know. You went through a very big change this week, too. Is there anything you need to talk about?"

At the concern in her mother's voice, Quinn almost gave in totally, but she wasn't ready for this conversation. "Not right now, Mom," she said.

Helen considered her for a long moment before conceding. "All right. I'll trust you for now, but if there is something," genuine pleading touched her voice, "please tell me before I find out from somewhere else."

Quinn nodded slowly. "I will, mom." She was surprised to find she meant it.

------

For the second day in a row, Daria swam slowly toward consciousness. A pleasant haze lay over her dreams, one which she was reluctant to dissipate. Safe and warm in the cocoon of her blankets, she felt far from yesterday's turmoil. When she acknowledged her consciousness, she was surprised to find that the distance remained. Her inner landscape was calm and quiet, her rage and misery a distant rumble.

To her surprise, and slight worry, this static calm continued as she began her morning. She knew there were things to resolve, so even though she could have happily stayed under the covers with a good book—or several—she dragged herself out of bed and began to ready herself for the day. As she made her way to the bathroom a red blur of nervous energy tore past her. Daria gave her sister's wake a fond smile. That was a nice thing Quinn did last night, she thought vaguely, her mind still slow with sleepiness.

After washing and dressing, she came downstairs to find her mother in the kitchen with a full pan of bacon sizzling. Smells good, she thought, her mind clearing. I hope Mom's not going to try to wrap me in maternal cotton because I'm so fragile. I don't think I could take that. Much to her relief, Helen merely said, "Morning sweetie. Breakfast will be ready in about ten minutes, and the paper's on the coffee table if you want it."

"Thanks, Mom," Daria said, trying to put multiple meanings in her voice before ambling into the living room to find the paper.

------

Breakfast was a surprisingly quiet affair. Helen didn't press either of her daughters, and none of the three mentioned last night. Jake, clueless as usual, ate with gusto. Afterwards, Quinn and her sister cleaned up, a little uncomfortable, but no longer as divided. They gave each other quiet smiles and retreated to their separate rooms to think.

Quinn had just thrown herself on the bed when the phone rang. Although her altered social status would certainly have affected the quanity of phone calls, reflex had her grabbing her receiver before she thought of it. "Hello," she trilled, even as the reality of her new lack of social status crashed down on her.

"Quinn," Sandi's voice on the other end of the line was less a greeting than an accusation.

"Hi, Sandi!" Quinn mustered as much false cheer as she could. This isn't going to be pretty.

It wasn't. "Well done," Quinn could almost hear the sneer. "Not only have you self-destructed, you've taken us down with you."

"I know," Quinn said. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize Skylar would play that dirty or that he'd hook up with Dawn."

"Well, you should have," Sandi snapped. "And thanks to you, we're stuck under the cheerleaders, probably for the rest of high school!"

She much have gone on for longer, without Quinn's one-word interruption. "No."

"What did you say?!" Sandi didn't even bother to hide the anger and shock in her voice.

"I said no," Quinn's voice was calm even as remembered rage churned her stomach. "You're stuck under the cheerleaders. I'm a pariah. I'll be wearing the scarlet letter from now until graduation, unless I do something about it." She let her voice trail into an invitation.

Sandi's perception far outstripped her reception. "No. I followed you to ruin, and I'm not making the same mistake twice."

I shouldn't be surprised. The thought covered the sudden shock of betrayal Quinn felt. She shifted the conversation to a more mercenary footing. "What do you want?"

"What?!"

"I don't stutter, Sandi. What do you want in return for your help?"

"Like last time?" Sandi's voice was mocking. "I don't think so, Quinn. I'm done with you. You're not a threat anymore, and I'm not going to put you back into position to be one. So I suggest, that you forget this number, because if I hear from you again, I'm hanging up." To Quinn's incredulous silence, she added. "Enjoy your new place in the pecking order." A click and the dialtone followed.

Bitch. For a long time, that was Quinn's only thought.

------

The listlessness Daria felt was different than her normal apathy. She knew this was one of the signs of incipient depression, but decided to allow herself one more day of self-pity before taking action. Thus, she retreated to the padded cell after breakfast and thumbed through books she'd already read. I'm gonna need to have this room redone or not spend time here if I want to avoid a bout of depression. The incongrous though made her smile slightly imagining her mother's reaction. Helen would be over the moon.

The dim echo of the phone's ring dispelled this little amusement. She ignored it, just as before, assuming it was for Quinn. Her sister's red head popping around her door a moment later disabused her of this. "It's Jane," Quinn said, offering the phone. Daria regarded her sister with curiousity. Her face seemed harder than it had since breakfast, much less since last week. This bears observation, she thought, taking the phone. Maybe I'd better end playtime early.

"Hello," she said, as Quinn retreated to give her privacy. Sudden trepidation gripped her.

She needn't have worried. "Hey, amiga," Jane's voice greeted her. "Just thought I'd check in on you."

"Shouldn't that be the other way around?" Daria lips quirked into a smile. "You're the one who sleeps the sleep of the dead on weekends. I'm usually up by 2 PM."

"Yeah, well, I figured as long as I was up early today." Jane's tone was flippant, but Daria could hear the real concern behind it.

"I'm fine, Jane. Really," she added, before Jane could protest. She hoped that Jane wouldn't bring up the cause of the concern and was grateful when Jane didn't.

"Well, you know if you need someone..."

"You don't have to...," Daria said softly. "After all," she added in a more normal voice, "I hear you have alot on your plate what with your new boyfriend."

"Heard that?" Jane asked.

"I spent the last week a little more plugged in than usual." And got myself a sharp shock for my trouble.

"Yeah, well," Jane said. "I won't let it come between us."

"Let's try that the other way," Daria said. "I won't come between you two. I've been a bitch about your relationships before, and I don't want to do it again."

"Daria!" Jane protested.

"It's the truth," Daria said. "I value your friendship, and that means I have to allow you to have your own life." Before Jane could protest," she added, "But that doesn't mean we can't meet for pizza after practice on Monday."

A nervous moment passed, before Daria heard a cheerful, "You're on." The two friends chatted amiably for a few more minutes before hanging up. Daria's own problems rushed back to her. Whatever I have to do, I'll make sure Jane doesn't get pulled into it.

------

Given everything going one that morning, Daria decided that her pity party would have to wait. Her returning energy needed a direction, and the logical one was Quinnwards. After all, I'm not the only one who needs to decide what to do. Her purposeful stride out the door and down the hall was interrupted by Quinn coming in the other direction. The sisters' eyes met.

"We need to talk," they said simultaneously. Tension crackled, until Daria laughed. For a moment, Quinn bristled, but she visibly relaxed when she realized Daria wasn't laughing at her. "I suppose it is pretty funny."

"What is?" Daria asked, unable to resist testing and tweaking her little sister.

"We go years without going near each others' rooms," Quinn said, "and then we both do it at the same time."

"Down to the words." Daria laughed again. "You're right. It is pretty funny."

"Did I pass the test?" Quinn asked, taking her turn to needle her sister.

"Sorry," Daria said solemnly. "I can't hand out grades until after class." Wryly, she added, "We should probably pick a room. Unless you want to have this chat in the hallway."

"I feel like we there should be some big negotiation." Quinn smiled. "You know, for like a peace conference. We can pick a neutral site and get Mom to arbitrate."

Daria shuddered at the thought. "Let's just keep it simple. Your room or mine?"

"Yours. There's places to sit. Every surface in mine is covered in crap—stuffed animals, clothes, or copies of Waif."

"Sure thing sis. After you."

Daria followed Quinn into the padded room. When Quinn took a seat on the bed, Daria grabbed her desk chair and rolled it over next to her sister. "So," she said. Now that she had Quinn, she wasn't sure what to say. "You, uh, seemed pretty pissed the last time I talked to you."

"Oh," Quinn said, schooling her voice to indifference. Daria's monotone makes a wonderful model. "I just talked to Sandi. She told me not to speak to her again. Apparently," A wry smile not unlike her sister's crossed her face, "she blames me for what happened."

Sudden anger blazed in Daria, "Nice to see your friends standing up for you?" At Quinn's stricken expression, she changed her tone. "I'm sorry. It's just that I've always thought Sandi was a backstabbing bitch. I just wish the evidence wasn't so clear."

"I'll bet Jane didn't abandon you," Quinn said, more than a trace of bitterness in her voice.

"No," Daria said slowly, "but there's a different issue there. Thinks are looking up for her. She's back on the track team and starting things again with Evan."

"And where does that leave Daria?" Quinn asked pointedly. "You took it pretty hard last time."

"Understatement of the century, Quinn. I was a stone bitch about it, and I don't want to be again. I think Jane is really happy on the track team, and with Evan. And even if I instinctively don't like him, well," her face closed down, "my instincts haven't been very good lately."

"Mine either," Quinn said, commiserating. "So what are we going to do?"

"We?" Daria raised an eyebrow. "That's novel."

Quinn shrugged, undisturbed. "I lost my best ally, and you have an ally you won't use. It makes sense for us to work together."

"On what?" Daria asked pointedly. "Are you so sure I want to work on anything?"

"No," Quinn said. "That's why I asked. Nothing is a valid answer, you know." Even with all that happened over the last week, even after everything had fallen apart on her, being a master manipulator was still part of Quinn. If she doesn't want revenge, she'll jump my way just to see what I'm up to, she thought, and then felt guilty. This is my sister, not a rival at school. This is my sister and she's vulnerable. She still couldn't help feeling a small thrill of elation when Daria whispered, "No. Nothing is not a valid answer."

"So, what do you want to do then?"

Daria covered her moment of openness well. "I think the better question, sis," she said with her usual cutting tone, "is what do you want to do? You have way more to lose than I do."

"Are you so sure about that?" Quinn asked. "My social status is "leper," Daria. What do I have to lose that you don't?"

"Your virginity for one thing," Daria said with a humorless smile.

"Point." Quinn said, matter-of-factly, then added in a much softer tone. "I'm sorry, Daria. I'd fix it if I could."

"Yeah, well, it's not your fault." Daria sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Part of me wants to kill Taylor, to make him writhe in pain, but another part of me..." She struggled to find words, before giving up with a shrug. "Now, Zoe I could cheerfully strangle."

"Wait," Quinn said, suddenly intent. "What does Zoe have to do with it?"

"Zoe's the one who pointed Taylor at me." Bitterness etched Daria's voice. "She used me as a ploy, and he went along with it."

"Just like Dawn used Skylar to get at me," Quinn said. And I used Tori to get at Brooke, her mind echoed. I'm not a very nice person, am I? Putting self-recrimination aside, she continued. "But Zoe's one of the cheerleaders and they're the ones who won."

"What are you saying?"

"That things may not be as straightforward as you think. Dawn's at the back of this, but that doesn't mean we know who was really at the front."

Sudden hope rose in Daria, but she squashed it. I can't deal with this right now. "Which brings us back to the original question," she said, steepling her fingers, "What do you want to do?"

"I want to crush Dawn," Quinn said, teeth suddenly clenching with hate.

"Why?" Daria asked mildly. Just because she chose not to interact, didn't mean Daria couldn't read people, and she'd had a lifetime to study Quinn. This should be interesting.

It was. "I...," Quinn started to say. A long pause followed, then with a frustrated wail, Quinn let go. "I don't know. Daria, I don't know. I mean part of it's just revenge. That bitch lied about me to tear me down, and I want to make her hurt, just like you want to hurt Zoe. And she used Zoe to hurt you, which makes me hate them even more, but I did the same things to Brooke that Dawn did to me, and the only difference is that what I used was the truth. I never thought about what I did before, but I never had to do anything as awful before, and I don't think I want to be that person. I told Jen that I was done with popularity games, but popularity has been who I am for so long that I don't know what I'll do if I'm not popular anymore."

Daria threw herself in front of the verbal train. "You could always hang out with the brains."

Quinn's racing mind jumped the tracks, and for a second, she was her old self. "Ha ha, Daria. Actually," she mused, "that's probably not such a bad idea. I'm out of the Fashion Club, and and without that, I don't really have much in common with my so-called friends. Can you imagine," she said, a plaintive note in her voice, "trying to discussing anything more complicated that the weather with Tiffany?"

"I can't even imagine trying to discuss the weather with Tiffany," Daria said. "I don't have the patience to spend an hour explaining the concept of rain." Quinn laughed, and Daria continued. "But that's for later. For now, we have to decide what to do. We could just turn the other cheek and wash our hands of the whole business."

Quinn noted the change in pronoun with pleased approval. A sister I can count on. And she no more wants to turn the other cheek... I'll bet she only said that prompt the answer she wants to hear. Friendly malice filled her mind. Time to upset the apple cart, and show her how the game is played. "Yeah, I think we should."

"Well, in that case— You what?!" Daria sat in slack-jawed amazement.

"I want to turn the other cheek for now," Quinn said. "We have no tools besides each other. And you've always been an outcast, while right now, I'm a social leper. Waiting gives us three advantages."

"Which are?" Daria was clearly intrigued.

"One," Quinn leaned back against the wall as she ticked off points on her fingers, "We lull Dawn into a false sense of security. Two, we give her time to make more enemies, and three, we see who is on our side, so we have support to take her down."

"Very good, Quinn," Daria said, voice admiring. "I like the way you think on different levels. But won't waiting just freeze your image as the school whore?"

"Let them think what they want," Quinn said, deadly serious. "This is about revenge, Daria." And maybe, just maybe, about making high school a little more bearable for everyone.

Wow, Daria thought, eyes alive again, watching for Quinn's nuances. She's really passionate about this. I wonder what she's not telling me. "Okay," she said. "I'll follow your lead, Quinn. But how will we know when to move?" Maybe she'll trust me enough to tell me before I find out.

"We'll know. Trust me, Daria," Quinn's words unconsciously mirrored Daria's thoughts. "We'll know."

------

"You going to tell Mom?" Daria asked the next morning. She presented a curious sight, sprawled across the bed on her stomach with her head peering over the edge of the bed.

The object of this question lay face up on her sister's floor. Ignoring Daria, Quinn continued to stare at the ceiling.

"You know she'll find out," Daria continued, eyes on the redhead. "If nothing else, Sandi's bitch mother will call to 'offer her support.'" Her voice twisted with bitterness.

"Oh, that'll be a fun conversation," Quinn grimaced up at Daria. "Hey, mom. There's a rumor going around that I aborted Skylar Feldman's baby, but don't worry. It's not true. See you later!"

"Better the truth," Daria said. "And better from you than from Linda Griffin." A sudden horrible though struck her. "Imagine if Dad answers the phone. He'll have a heart attack for sure. You know he's a ticking time bomb."

Quinn sighed as the realization hit. "You're right, of course. I can't do that to Dad, or to Mom either." She gave her sister a crafty look before adding, "You have to be there, though."

"Why?"

"Come on, Daria. Do you think they're going to believe just me?" Quinn put on her most ingenuous look. "Of course you should, like, totally believe me. After all, I've never lied to you before."

"Point," Daria said. "Dad might buy that. Mom won't. So you want me to corroborate."

Quinn nodded. "You know me. Mom knows you know me, even if you pretend not to. And Mom knows you have no reason to lie to her. She might not like what she hears, but she'll take it better with you there."

"Okay," Daria conceded. "When should we do it?"

"No time like the present."

"...so that's the whole story, Mom." Quinn finished. She and Daria were seated on the couch, while Helen paced back and forth.

"Let me get this straight," Helen said. "You're telling me there's a boy you didn't have sex with telling people at school that he got you pregnant and you had an abortion. And this, along with Daria's problem, is all part of some plot to make the cheerleaders more popular."

"Um, yeah," Quinn said, puzzled.

Helen gave her younger daughter a searching look. "It's a little much to swallow, Quinn." After a moment, she turned to regard Daria. "What's your opinion on all this."

"It's the truth, Mom." Daria said flatly. "As hard as it may be to believe, the kids at Lawndale really do act like the characters from I, Claudius. And Quinn's never gotten pregnant. If she had," Daria smirked, "she'd have carried it to term and started a new religion." Quinn shot her a dirty look.

"So you're saying..." Helen trailed off.

"Mom, until Thursday, I'd have bet half my cabin fund that both your daughters would be virgins on Graduation Day." A trace of bitterness came through in Daria's flippant tone. "Now I'll just have to bet the whole thing on Quinn."

Silence fell as Helen digested what she'd learned. Looking between her daughter's faces, she caught a sense of something odd. Daria's observant enough, and interested enough even if she denies it, to know what's going on with Quinn, and I don't think she'd lie to me. I suppose they could have teamed up to lie to me, but there's nothing in it for Daria. And this is a pretty bizarre story. Well, I'll just have to take it at face value, unless other information crosses my path. "So what are you going to do about it?"

She chuckled inwardly, as her girls turned identical innocent looks at her. They'd hate to hear me say it, but deep down, they're so much alike. "What do you mean?" the girls chorused.

"Come on," she said, hiding a smile. "You must have something planned?"

"I not doing anything," Quinn said.

"And I'm hoping that 'you' is singular," Daria added.

Yeah, right. "Alright, girls," Helen said in her best parental voice. "I'll trust you to know that revenge is wrong." And I'll keep an eye on you, since I know neither of you will care.

"Thanks, Mom," Quinn said, while Daria just nodded.

The two girls disappeared in different directions, and Helen turned her mind to more important matters. How do I keep Jake from exploding when he hears this? Maybe I'll just hide it from him.

The Next Monday

Almost surprisingly, Lawndale High School looked exactly the same on Monday morning—same dull hall colors, same cracked faculty, same blue and white bunting. But it seemed to Dawn that everyone could tell just how much had changed in the last week. For one thing, she noted with a smile the way the halls parted for her and the other cheerleaders—the way they used to part for Quinn and Sandi.

Oh, I am going to enjoy today, she thought and let a vindictive chuckle escape her lips. After all, there was power to consolidate, old rivals to humble, new lackeys falling under her sway. She closed her locker with a satisfying thump and waited for the fun to begin.

Zoe was not fun. "You seem preoccupied," noted Dawn, as Zoe joined her en route to class.

"Just thinking," Zoe said quickly.

"Well, don't," Dawn gave her a wicked smile. "Just enjoy the moment. We won! And there is a small side benefit." She gestured toward Daria Morgendorffer, back in her geek uniform—green coat, mismatched skirt, black boots. Sensing eyes on her, Daria bowed her head and hurried off. "That'll teach the outcasts to get above their place," Dawn added with satisfaction.

"Yeah, that'll teach 'em," Zoe added, somewhat halfheartedly.

"You don't seem like yourself, Zoe." Could it be she's having a little moral crisis? I'd better keep my eye on her.

"I'm fine, Dawn," Zoe said. "Just tired. I had a long weekend at home. You know how it goes."

"Yeah," Dawn said. "I know how it goes. We'd better get to class." The two girls hurried off.

------

Quinn also noted the change, though with less evident pleasure that Dawn. The hostile, and occasional pitying, looks she could deal with, but having to chase three different people off her locker before third period was downright annoying. The third, Tiffany's friend Kelly, had been downright rude.

"Why should I move? You're not in control of me." Her smirk was vicious. "You're not in charge of anything any more."

"I'll tell you why you should move," Quinn growled. "Because I have nothing to lose, and you'll find it really hard to get dates with a black eye." Resorting to physical threats so early in the day wasn't a good sign, she knew. But damn! That feels good, she thought as Kelly fled down the corridor. And besides, a violent Quinn is a beaten Quinn. Anything to make Dawn think I've given up.

As she opened her locker, a piece of paper caught her eye. She palmed it carefully, and unfolded it under cover of digging out her textbooks. Three words, in Daria's neat hand greeted her eye. Seen. Eyes Down. She gave a satisfied nod. We'll wait and see if Daria's little performance went off without a hitch.

Daria had asked her before school this morning why the cloak and dagger stuff was necessary if they were lulling Dawn into a false sense of security. "Table setting," she'd replied, amused once again by her sister's blind spots. Daria was undeniably brilliant in her way, but it was staggering how much she chose not to know. "Even if we don't move for a month or two, which seems likely, we need to make sure Dawn is thinking like we want her to think. Once we hook her, her own mind will fill in what she expects to see, but we have to create that expectation."

Pocketing her note, she closed her locker and turned to go. She wondered briefly if Sandi had already surrendered to Dawn. If not, it's just a matter of time.

------

In fact, Sandi was pleading her case to Dawn at that very moment. As an added piece of artistry, Dawn was making her do it in the very bathroom that had been the center of Fashion Club power for over a year.

When Sandi approached her after second period, Dawn had merely said, "Walk with me," without even sparing Sandi a glance. The involuntary gasp when Sandi realized where she was being led was one of the many little rewards Dawn was arranging for herself today.

The conversation in the bathroom was unusually blunt. Facing not Sandi but the mirror, Dawn said, "What do you want?"

Sandi, behind Dawn, was still able to see her own reflection when she blinked. "What do I want?"

Dawn merely waited.

"Fine," said Sandi. "I want to keep the Fashion Club. I want to stay on the top of the heap, and I want a more trustworthy lieutenant than Quinn and better lackeys than Stacy and Tiffany."

Dawn nodded. "And that's why you have to ask for it now. Now," she said, expression hardening, "let me tell you what you're going to get. You can keep the Fashion Club, but you're not in charge any more. There'll be a list of second tier boys made available for you to date, and public displays of inferiority will be kept to a minimum."

"That doesn't sound like much to me." Sandi asked, raising an eyebrow. "What's the alternative?"

"The alternative," Dawn said flatly, "is to be cast out of heaven to join Quinn in the abyss. You lost; I won. I acknowledge that you can be useful, so I'm offering you a place, but you have nothing to bargain with, Sandi. I can get along fine without you."

Seeing the blaze of Dawn's eyes in reflection, Sandi capitulated. "I accept. What about Stacy and Tiffany."

"They're still yours," Dawn said with a negligent flip of her hand. "But you're responsible for them, Sandi. If they screw up, it reflects on you." The fire in her eyes was banked, not extinguished.

"Understood," Sandi nodded, and turned to go.

"A word of advice," Dawn said, over her shoulder. "Ditch Stacy. She'll always be Quinn's. That gossipy friend of Tiffany's, Kelly, will be much more useful." She laughed as Sandi left the bathroom without a word.

------

Lunch, for Quinn, was dismal but enlightening. Exiled to the far corner of the lunch room, where not even the Chess Club would bother with her, she would have headed for the room if not for her need to observe. True, she couldn't hear much over here, except for the occasional splash of milk shot through someone's nose, but she could see whole lunchroom, observing body language and, where possible, facial expressions.

Dawn held court at the popular table, in the spot once reserved for Sandi, who slumped, disconsolate, the edge of the crowd of cheerleaders and football players, an indifferent Tiffany opposite her. Well, Sandi's surrender has been accomplished. I wonder where Stacy is, though. The cheerleaders themselves, and their football player hangers-on, were clearly in high spirits, as a welter of noise from the table could be heard over the general din of the lunchroom. Oddly, Zoe's blond hair was all that was visible of her. Maybe she's not so thrilled with Dawn's win, Quinn thought.

As she watched, Tiffany's gossipy friend Kelly approached Sandi. Her body language spoke challenge, but Sandi, rather than responding, shot a look toward Dawn. Quinn couldn't make out Dawn's reaction—whether words or just a look—but the outcome was clear, as Kelly slid into the seat next to Tiffany. Weirder and weirder, Quinn thought. And where the hell is Stacy?

Her eyes scanned the lunchroom for any sign of brown pigtails, but it was a long moment before she saw them, draped across the arms of Stacy, who was facedown at a nearby table. Having spotted her, Quinn trained her ear and was sure she could make out what could only be weeping. That answers everything, she thought, even as she half-stood. Sandi kicked her out and replaced her with Kelly. She was suddenly glad, terribly glad, that Sandi had turned her offer down.

Her need to comfort Stacy was balanced by her need to remain outcast. She wanted to be seen to have no allies, and helping Stacy might compromise that. On the other hand, if I ignore her, that makes me as big a bitch as Sandi. Caught by indecision, she stood still long enough for Stacy to look up and shoot her a venomous stare. Well, she sighed. That answers that. I just wish someone could go and talk to Stacy. It's too bad Daria's mixed up in this or she could do it.

The answer to her dilemma appeared when Jodie Landon slid into the seat opposite her, a concerned expression on her face. "How are you, Quinn?"

"Fine," Quinn said, lost in thought. Jodie was one of the neutrals in the popularity game, as she was one of the students involved in the actual work of keeping the school running. Mack filled the same role for athletics. As long as they made no overt moves, they were strictly off limits, enforceable by Ms. Li's wrath, and possibly Jodie's parents and even the NAACP. From things Daria had said, Quinn gleaned that this made Jodie uncomfortable, but it also put her in a unique position.

"Really?" Jodie asked. "After all, some pretty nasty rumors have been going around. I know I wouldn't be fine if people were saying things like that about me."

That's because no one would say things like that about you. Not if they wanted to keep their heads. "Seriously," Quinn said. "I know they're not true, so I'm not to worried."

Jodie gave her a searching look. Plainly she didn't believe a word of it.

"Not that I mind," Quinn asked, "But why are you so worried about me? I'm not the nicest person in the school and I've never had the time of day for student government."

"True," Jodie said, choosing not to take offense. "But you're Daria's sister, so you can't be all bad. And I don't like to see things like what happened to you."

Quinn nodded, part of her mind looking for ways to use this information, part of her mind disgusted at the idea of manipulating an honest offer of aid. This is one fucked up system we've got right here. I should have realized it before. "I'm fine, Jodie," she said. "I'm tough. But if you really want to help someone," she turned her head toward a pair of pigtails, "Stacy could use some cheering up. I think Sandi kicked her out of the Fashion Club."

Seeing Stacy's condition, Jodie's eyes went wide. "She's really in a bad way, isn't she? I know the Club was her whole identity. And you say Sandi kicked her out?"

"I don't know for sure, since I've been persona non grata since Friday," Quinn grimaced, "but that's what it looks like to me."

Jodie nodded. "To me too. I'm going to go and talk to her." Giving Quinn a final look, she asked, "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do?"

"One thing," A half-smile formed on Quinn's lips. "Don't tell her I sent you. I think she's mad at me, too." Her eyes drifted back to the center table. And if you don't tell Stacy, there's less chance Dawn will find out.

Jodie nodded and Quinn watched as the dark-skinned girl made her way to the fair. After a couple of minutes, Stacy looked up. Quinn wasn't sure from her distance, but it seemed Stacy's eyes were dry as she and Jodie left the lunchroom.

------

Having dealt with Sandi, Dawn was free to move on to the other goals for the day. The Clubbies and the cheerleaders were the top of the heap and their hangers-on had already responded to the changes, but there were semi-popular groups who needed to be taken in hand. This wasn't something that could be done today, but she'd entertained herself by throwing a little weight around.

Particularly amusing had been having Zoe spread the word to the Drama Club types. She hadn't seemed very enthusiastic about it, but then that was part of the point. Angie, Nikki, and the other cheerleaders were all basking in reflected glory. The only ones who weren't were Brittany, who was oblivious, and Zoe. And if Zoe wasn't going to enjoy the jobs Dawn was going to give her, well, Dawn would make her do them anyway. and enjoy them twice as much because Zoe was suffering.

She'd taken the time herself to check out some of the less popular sports teams. A talk with the track team provided intriguing, if not entirely satisfactory. Jane Lane, a side effect of last week—and not one she'd planned, which disturbed her—ignored her outright, having eyes only for the lanky runner-boy Evan. He, in turn, paid far more attention to Jane than Dawn, though the rest of the team seemed receptive. Evan used to be more malleable. Maybe some oppo would come in handy. I'll bet he nailed at least one of the cheerleaders before hooking up with arty-farty Jane Lane.

Her chats with the lacrosse and volleyball teams had been much more satisfying. She enjoyed dropping oblique hints and harvesting information. After all, information was power, and she intended to hold on to that power until Graduation Day. All in all, a pleasant thought.

But now the end of the day had come, and with it a special pleasure she'd been saving for herself all day. The cherry on top, she thought, and then smiled. How appropriate, she mentally added as she made a beeline for a certain locker and a bright red mop of bouncy hair.

How predictable, Quinn thought, as she saw Dawn out of the corner of her eye. The cheerleader made her way nonchalantly down the hall, but it was clear she had a destination in mind. I can't believe I lost to her. She's like a third-rate Bond villain. Quinn kept her thoughts to herself and her head down, looking only at her locker, or so it seemed. Five, four, three, two...

"Oh hi, Quinn!" Dawn trilled in her best faux friendly voice.

Right on schedule, Quinn thought, and didn't look up.

"Is something the matter, dear?" Dawn asked, as Quinn remained silent. "I know you're fragile right now, so I wanted to check up on you."

"No, no," Quinn gritted, still not looking up. "I'm fine." Just enough. If I don't sound angry, she'll know I'm up to something, but if I sound too angry, she'll know to be afraid of me.

The look of concern on Dawn's face might have been almost believable except for the smug smile that kept threatening to overwhelm it. "Are you sure? You're not looking so well. I think your hair's lost some of its bounce."

And I think your ass has gained some lard, bitch. "No, no. Really," Quinn said, voice heavy. "I'm fine. You know, everyone needs a change."

"And such a sudden change, too," Dawn purred, all pretense gone. "From top off the food chain to burrowing for worms in one week." Quinn made sure to crumble a little as Dawn added, "That might just be a record."

"Well, you know," Quinn said, her obviously fake arch tone leavened with misery. "All that popularly stuff, it's not all it's cracked up to be. I mean, think of all the free time I'll have, now that I don't have to keep up with trends." Her artificial laugh was pathetic. And I thought my usual acts were tough. This is giving me a headache.

"Oh, yes," Dawn nodded. "Trips to the library; time to study. You could learn chess; maybe collect butterflies or stamps." She leaned close to Quinn's ear, breathing the next words with an almost sexual pleasure. "Fantasizing about all the dates you'll never go on again, all the boys whose skin you'll never touch."

Quinn didn't even have to fake a shudder as she finally turned to face Dawn.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy the next two years," Dawn said, almost nose to nose with Quinn. "I'm going to enjoy keeping you down, the way you kept us down—keeping all the boys on a string, never letting us get a sniff. You're done, Quinn. It's over."

Quinn let Dawn's eyes hold her for a moment before she looked down, the picture of defeat. Inside, rage roiled. Over? That's what you think, bitch.

End Part I

Author's Note:

The original inspiration for this story was an Iron Chef proposed on the PPMB by Ranger Thorne. I'd like thank him for the inspiration and a bunch of other folks on PPMB (including but not limited to Brother Grimace, TAG, smk, and cyde) whose enthusiasm helped transform what was going to be a couple of throwaway scenes into the novella-length vortex that the story became. I'd also like to acknowledge the webcomic Penny and Aggie ( which I started reading around the time I started the story and which gave me a pretty good model for just how vicious teen politics can become.

Also, for everyone who noted the title change, Turnabout Confusion is now a two-part fic. This part,
"We All Fall Down," is finished. The second part, which will likely be called "All the King's Horses," isn't going to start right away. I'll probably take a month or so to work on some other stuff and let the ideas mull for awhile. Anyway, thank you to everyone for reading and enjoying the story. It's been a blast to write, and I hope the second part is as much fun.

Disclaimer: Daria and all characters are copyright MTV 1997–2002. I own nothing and am merely along for the ride.