While Quinn and Stacy got ready for their party, Daria got ready for Melody Powers' next assassination behind the Iron Curtain. Her mind was so far lost in the tundras of the Soviet Union that Daria didn't hear her mother calling for her. Daria jumped when Helen handed her the cordless phone.

"Sorry to startle you when you're undercover in the shadows of a Kremlin fortress," said Helen, "but you have a phone call."

"Oh, that's okay," said Daria, taking the phone. "Is it Jane?"

"No, actually it's Trent," said Helen with a suggestive smile. As she closed the door, she reminded Daria not to use the phone for too long, as her father was expecting a call from a very important client that night. When Daria was sure that Helen was out of earshot distance, she answered, "Hey, Trent… What's up?"

"Hey, Daria," Trent replied. He opened the fridge, looked through, and said, "Hm, nothin'. How's the writing coming along? You still working on that espionage story?"

"Yeah," said Daria. "Speaking of, give me one second…" She cradled the phone between her neck and cheek as she typed out a few more sentences. Trent waited, listening to the fast clicks of Daria's keyboard as she found a suitable place to stop her writing. "Okay, you now have my undivided attention." Their talk drifted easily between topics, ranging from his music and her writing to Daria's upcoming graduate school plans.

"Daria!" called Quinn, not waiting for acknowledgement before coming into her sister's room. Quinn glanced around uneasily. "Wow, your room still looks like this?... Anyway, Dad needs the phone now. Only, I hope he doesn't take too long, because Sandi and Tiffany are supposed to call me and Stacy about where we're meeting for the party tonight, and I would hate to be anything but fashionably late. I know Tiffany wouldn't try anything sabotage-y, or whatever, but you never know with Sandi. The last time I was unfashionably late, she made me go out with Jimmy for a week, and he frosts his tips, can you imagine? Boy bands are so 1997, and-"

"Um, Trent, I gotta go," said Daria, interrupting her sister, "before I lose any more brain cells."

Trent nodded, "I understand. That girl who lives with you sure sounds like a piece of work."

"Tell me about it," said Daria, ignoring Quinn's look of annoyance.

"'That girl who lives with you' has a name you know."

"Oops, uh, tell Quinn I said sorry," said Trent, surprised that his voiced managed to carry. "And, Daria?"

"Yes, Trent?"

"I'm really looking forward to our date tomorrow night. Oh, and tell Quinn not to do anything I wouldn't do," said Trent, coughing as he laughed at his own joke. "See ya."

"Yeah, um, bye, Trent," Daria managed. She handed the phone to Quinn. "Tell me you didn't hear any of that."

"Oh, Daria!" Quinn exclaimed. "I always knew this day would come, and now that it has, I feel so… serene." Anything but serenely, she asked, "What are you going to wear? Where are you going? Do you want me to help you with your-?"

"Hold it right there, Cher Horowitz-" said Daria.

"Wear your blue sweater," Quinn offered, walking out of the room with the phone. "Now that you can actually see your eyes behind your thinner frames, it'll really bring out their dark blue color. Bye!"

Daria turned back to her computer to continue her story, but the snow behind the Iron Curtain seemed to have thawed. She decided to put aside her writing for the night. Feeling tired, she took off her glasses and rubbed the space between her eyes. She looked at her frames for a minute and cleaned her lenses. When Daria felt satisfied, she put her glasses back on and turned to her closet, setting aside her blue sweater for tomorrow night.