Jane was beginning to wonder what was going the hell on. No, scrap that, she was beginning to wonder how the hell she hadn't noticed it sooner and why she wasn't doing something more drastic about it now that she had discovered it.

Tom, her boyfriend Tom, had been slowly cold-shouldering her into being sick of him for some time it seemed. Their first week together was all over the shop, their first whole month had been pretty damn fun, so had their second and they had just about been getting into comfortable whatever-together-ness in the third, at least, she had thought so.

Turned out, it was not so.

What she had thought was Tommy boy's getting comfortable, was actually him getting disinterested. Sure, she was the wild art chick who had liberated him, however slightly, from the world of his family, but it seemed that she just wasn't smart enough for him. Jerk. So she wasn't into reading all the intellectuals he and Daria could have long conversations about, so what? She was a Lane, not a Sloan or a Morgandorffer. She was smart her way, rather than the obvious way that either of them were. Daria had the advantage over Tom in that area though, which got Jane smiling again.

Oh yes, Daria was smarter, more cynical and she knew how to push the other girls buttons to get a reaction. It was even better more recently, since darling, slightly uptight Daria had begun working at the radio station, and dating one ridiculously laid back musician beginning to make good.

Really, it was enough to make Jane question if, after Tom shows up for their date and she tells him that they're over, whether she should give the big lug Jesse a go, or brave the dreaded Ruthiemer gene.

... did she really just think that? Damn.

Almost on cue, the doorbell rang. It was either Daria or Tom, and Jane was really hoping it was the former, she needed to get her head examined, and apart from Trent, Daria was the best person at it that she knew.

Keeping her thrice-pierced ear pricked, she heard Trent loaf to the door and the hinges wail slightly as the barrier swung open to permit entry.

"Oh, hey Tom. Janey's up in her room."


Dammit. Oh well, she'd dump Tom then get Daria to examine her mental functions.


Trent, from his position on the couch in the living room raised a wondering eyebrow when he began to hear the yelling.

It had started with a "What?" from Tom, so whatever was going on, he figured Janey was putting her foot down over something. When emotion and relationship details started being flung at high decibels, he decided it would be better to wait for Daria to arrive out front, rather than waiting inside where he could hear it all.

It didn't work. Jane had left her window open and the yelling was even clearer than it had been from the living room. He stared up at the open window with some distaste, wishing that one of them would realise they were broadcasting their relationship to the neighbourhood and shut it.

"Hey Trent, any idea what's going on?"

Trent jumped at Daria's words. When had she gotten there? She was standing beside him, staring up at Jane's window, backpack over one shoulder and combat boots on her feet.

"Hey Daria. No, but they've actually been at it for a while now. Don't know what happened."

The yelling died down at last, and Trent invited Daria into the house. Before they'd closed the door, Tom came down the stairs and just about charged the couple, headed only for the door.

"And don't come back!" Jane yelled from the top of the stairs, just before the door slammed shut. Spotting Trent and Daria by the door with as much of an expression as either of them were inclined to ever show, Jane smiled.

"Hey Daria, I'm glad you're here, I wanted to talk to you. If that's okay with you of course, Trent," Jane said, still taking delight in the fact that they had finally gotten together.

"Just gimme a sec to kiss him hello first, and then I'll be right up," Daria promised.

Trent smirked and slid an arm around Daria's waist.

Jane smiled and waved to indicating she'd be in her room working on her next masterpiece until they were done making out.


"So you finally dumped the jerk from the family concerned with your tax bracket, and now you're questioning your taste in men," Daria summarised once Jane had explained the situation.

"Yep," Jane answered, adding an empratic nod to the monosyllabic expression.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, but I'd recommend working on your selection criteria," recommened the red head.

"Mm, good plan, but I seem to have only had relationships that don't work, so how am I meant to make criterea for a good boyfriend?"

"You may have a point there. Hey Jane, there was something I wanted to talk to you about as well," Daria said, abruptly changing the subject when she could no longer think of even vaguely useful answers.


"It's about my radio show. It's great and all, but I think it would be better if I had someone to talk with, so that listeners are getting more than just my cynicism. I've talked to the station manager, and she's agreed that me having a cohost, and maybe some guests, would add some variety to my show."

Jane's jaw had dropped and her eyes were bugging out slightly at this point, not quite believing that she was hearing what she thought she was hearing.

Daria allowed a small Mona Lisa smile to slip onto her face at Jane's expression.

"Daria!" It seemed to be all Jane could say when she finally found her voice.

"I'm giving you space to say embarrassing things to me on radio. I'm trusting you Lane, don't go overboard," she warned.

"Daria!" Jane exclaimed again, propelling herself across the bed they had been sitting on and wrapping her arms around her friend's neck.

"You can't do it if you kill me Lane," Daria wheezed out.

"Oops, my bad," Jane said, withdrawing and holding her up gesturing that she wouldn't do it again.