Jane never thought that a microwave could do so much damage, but here she was, moping the dark roads of Lawndale at one in the morning, all because the microwave had exploded, burning the whole of Casa Lane's downstairs. After the fire had been put out, with a great deal of fuss, the small group of Lanes (being Jane, Trent and Amanda) had stuffed as many of their necessities into bags as they could, they left into the night in search of refuge. Seeing as the majority of their family lived out of state, their best bet was the Morgendorffer house, at least for the time being. "Tell us again how the microwave exploded, Trent," Jane requested, shivering slightly in the cool air.

"I honestly don't know," was his reply, voice even more shredded than usual due to the stress, "I was heating up some leftover pizza and the boom!" To stress his point, he mimed an explosion with his hands and widened his eyes slightly.

"The thing has been falling apart for years," Amanda sighed, "I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner." Jane hummed in agreement as they walked up the Morgendorffer driveway.

"Here goes nothing," she mumbled, mostly to herself as she knocked, quite loudly, on the door and hoped that one of the family members were still up.

A few minutes of shivering later, the door swung open to reveal a groggy and miffed looking Helen Morgendorffer. "Do you have any idea what time it- Jane?" she asked, looking at the seventeen-year-old girl who was still clad in her pyjamas, unable to see Amanda or Trent. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I know it's late," she started, looking apologetic, "and we're sorry for waking you up, but could we crash here tonight, our house caught fire."

"Of course," she agreed before adding, "we?" Jane nodded and gestured behind herself.

"My mom, Amanda, and older brother, Trent," she said, "we don't have anywhere else to go." Helen nodded and let them in, flicking a light switch and illuminating the room as she did so. The three lanes trudged into the house, still shivering and grateful for the warmth. Trent was the last of the three in and closed the door behind them as quietly as he could, knowing the rest of the family were still probably in bed.

"Amanda, right?" Helen asked the blonde woman, as she showed the three of them into the living room to sit down. She nodded and gave a small smile, sitting down between Jane and Trent on the couch facing away from the door.

"Thanks so much for letting us stay, Mrs Morgendorffer," Amanda thanked as Helen sat down on the other couch.

"Oh, it's the least I can do," she replied, sympathy in her eyes, "and please, call me Helen."

"If you insist," Amanda managed, with a chuckle. Helen nodded and cast her eyes to Trent, eyeing his tattoos but smiling none the less.

"And you must be Trent," she said, looking at him. He gave a charming, lazy smile than Helen was sure would have flustered her in her youth.

"Yeah," he rasped, "that's me. Thanks again, for not letting us freeze." Amanda gave him a sharp look, but Jane snorted and Helen gave an awkward chuckle.

"Before I find you a place to sleep, would you like a hot drink to warm up?" Helen offered and the three lanes muttered their thanks.

As Helen got up and headed for the kitchen to make hot chocolate (coffee would be a bad decision at this time) faint footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. "Mom," a familiar monotonous voice sounded, "who was it?" Jane craned her neck to look over the back of the couch to look at the staircase as her friend's pale legs came into view.

"Hey, Morgendorffer," Jane greeted a smirk on her face as her friend looked at her in shock, messy hair tied into a ponytail and glasses crooked on her face.

"Jane? What are you doing here?" she asked, fixing her glasses, as she came closer, cheeks pinkening when she saw Trent.

"Microwave exploded and set the house on fire," Jane said as if it were nothing. Daria sighed, deciding it was best not to ask as she sat on the couch, silently wishing she had come down in more than a large shirt and a pair of shorts.

"Hey Mrs Lane," she greeted, her voice holding its normal tone before it faded off as she added, "and Trent."

"Hi Daria," Amanda replied, voice airy, whilst Trent just nodded at her.

"The Lanes are staying over for the night," Helen called from the kitchen, putting spoonfuls of instant hot chocolate powder into three cups.

"Where are they going to sleep?" she asked, studiously avoiding Trent's blue eyes, which were fixed on her.

"We're going to figure that out after they've warmed up a little."

A few minutes later the three guests had their hot chocolates clutched in their hands, sipping at the warm chocolatey goodness as an awkward silence settled over the five of them. A silence that didn't last long as a high-pitched voice scoffed, "Mo-om! What's with all the noise, I have to get up at eight o'clock so I can be ready to go to Sandi's at twelve." Quinn appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hand on hip, looking expectantly at the fraction of the Lane family sitting in the living room.

"If it takes you that long to get ready in the morning, chances are, you're not as cute as you think you are," Daria drawled, looking over at her sister, who narrowed her eyes at her. Jane scoffed into her drink, while Trent chuckled 'good one Daria'.

"Jane and her family will be staying the night," Helen replied, ignoring her daughter's bickering.

"Where are they going to sleep?" Quinn asked, making her way towards the others and sitting beside Daria, eyes focusing on Trent, who either ignored or didn't see the flirtatious smile she sent him.

"Jane can stay in my room," Daria offered.

"That only leaves the guest room and Trent shouldn't have to share a room with his mother," Helen objected.

"I honestly don't mind, Mrs Morgendorffer," he said, "I'm just grateful to have a place to sleep."

Daria furrowed her brows in concentration, absent-mindedly scratching her leg. "How about me and Jane sleep down here- with the TV- Mrs Lane takes the guest room and Trent sleeps in mine," her voice broke towards the end of her sentence and her cheeks flushed, which earned a confused look from both Helen and Quinn, while Jane gave a knowing smile and Trent smirked. Amanda seemed to be daydreaming, tapping her fingers against the side of her cup to a rhythm in her head.

"Good idea, Daria," Helen agreed, looking over at the Lanes, "sound good?" Amanda snapped out of her trance and nodded.

"Sounds great," Trent agreed, "Daria's bed is probably a lot comfier than mine."

"And we get the TV," Jane added.

"All right then," Helen agreed, standing up, "Daria, go show Amand and Trent to their rooms and bring down a few blankets and pillows from your room and the airing cupboard, I'll clean up, Quinn go to bed." The two nodded before Quinn rushed off to her room while Daria rolled her eyes and gestured for Amanda and Trent to follow her.

She took them upstairs and showed Amanda where the guest room was, telling her to call if she needed anything as well as giving her directions to the bathroom before she took Trent to her room, face flushed the whole way. She opened the door and let him in. "Here," she mumbled quietly, gesturing to the bed and flicking the light on.

"Cool room," he complimented, looking around.

"Thanks," she replied, "the guy who used to live here before had a schizophrenic, shut-in aunt. This is where they kept her." As Trent climbed into her bed, commenting that it was, in fact, more comfortable than his own, she made her way over to the closet. She opened it, revealing her limited selection of clothes, an electric keyboard and, on a shelf above the rack, an assortment of blankets and pillows. She stretched to reach them and yanked them down, barely catching them when they fell on her.

"Is that a keyboard?" Trent asked, looking up at her with droopy eyes. She made sure the blankets and pillows were secure in her arms as she closed the closet door.

"Yeah," she answered, bidding him goodnight and hurrying out of the room, turning the light off, before he could ask further questions.

As soon as she was out, she slumped against the door, as gently as she could, and breathed heavily for a few seconds. She knew it was an over-reaction, but the guy- man, even- she'd had a crush on for two years was in her bed, in her room and little Miss Morgendorffer was having trouble coping with that. She pressed a hand to her face, feeling her own flesh which was heated with the heavy blush on her cheeks as she tried to calm down. After a few moments, she'd gathered herself and started to head towards the stairs, only to freeze again as she saw Helen, who'd at some point come upstairs, and Quinn smirking at her, having watched her reaction. "What?" she demanded, glaring at them.

"You liiiiike him," Quinn teased, although she did so quietly to save her sister embarrassment if Trent could hear them.

"Shut up," she grumbled, continuing to walk, only this time focusing on her feet and ignoring the two of them. She heard Quinn giggle as she went back inside her room and had made it to the stairs before she heard Helen's voice.

"Daria?" The girl turned to look at her mother, an expectant, if reluctant, look on her face, "I'm sure Trent is a lovely young man, honey, but-"

"Can we not have this conversation right now?" Daria pleaded, sending her mom a desperate look. Helen nodded.

"Okay, sweetie, sleep well," she bid as she turned into her own room, allowing her eldest daughter to scurry down the stairs.

When she reached the living room, she threw a pillow and thick blanket at Jane, placing the ones she was going to use on 'her' couch. "So, you've got Trent in your bed?" the black haired girl asked with a smirk. Daria glared at her.

"Don't say it like that," she scolded, turning to go and turn the light off.

"What?" Jane asked with mock innocence dripping from her voice. Daria rolled her eyes. flicking the light off and carefully making her way back.

"Don't say it so suggestively." She sat on the couch, slipping her glasses off and tucking them under the couch, where they wouldn't get stepped on, before pulling her blanket over her as Jane did the same. They had laid down in a way on their respective couch so that their heads were at meeting ends.

"Suggesting what, exactly?" Jane asked, the same pseudo innocence present in her tone.

"That he's there for something other than sleeping," Daria hissed pointedly at the other girl.

"Well, you do wish that were the case," Jane argued, almost feeling Daria's glare.

"Should you be talking about your bother like that?" she asked rhetorically, but she still got an answer.

"You know it's true, chica."

"Go the hell to sleep, Lane." She didn't need to be told twice.