Unfashionable Alliance

Nobody told Daria and Jane that Tori Jenson's party had a "psycho" theme.
Not to worry; they were accepted as if they'd already dressed for it.
"Omigawd, I just can't get over how well that skirt works!" Tori gushed to Daria upon letting her in. "It's too long, yet it seems way too revealing on someone like you. And wearing LONG sleeves with it? It's exactly what a crazy person would wear. You're a genius!"
"I'll tell Stephen Hawking to move over." Daria said.
"I don't know if his chair can move sideways." Jane added.
"Speaking of handicaps, where's Quinn?"
Evan pointed over his shoulder. "Talking with the 3 J's in the corner. Long time no see, Jane."
"Long time no see for a reason, Evan," she assured him.
"Come on. Just let me talk to you for a few minutes, okay? Then you can leave me in the dust for good." he gave her a crooked smile, instead of the smug one she remembered.
Jane glanced at Daria, who just shrugged. "Well...all right, but I'm going to hold you to that. Start talking."

Daria tuned them out as Evan attempted to patch things up, and looked across the room at Quinn. As Tori said, she was regaling Joey, Jeffy and Jamie with her 'charming' stories-and, from the looks of it, scaring the daylights out of them in the process.
"...But if I were going to snap on YOU, Joey, I would definitely use the fire poker. I would go for your head! 'Cause I'd be, like, jealous of sane people and stuff. Only not really, because psychopaths are cool."
"Um...ha ha...that's great, Quinn." Joey stammered, looking around for the nearest escape route.
"I'd probably poison you, Jamie. But then I would hug you and say your name over and over,so you could die knowing somebody out there remembered it. Isn't that romantic?" Quinn's smile was wider than they'd ever seen. "By the way, can I top off that soda for you?"
Jamie backed away, his knees practically knocking. "Duh..u-um...n-no, that's okay Q-quinn. I got it!"
"And Jeffy, I'd guillotine you or something, because Joey once told me you spend a lot of time on your knees!" Quinn said innocently.
Jeffy spat out his soda and rounded furiously on Joey. "WHAT?!"
"Um, Jeffy, I didn't mean it! I had way too much to drink that night. Jeffy?" Joey backed out the sliding door into the backyard, followed closely by his enraged friend. The sounds a of fist fight proceeded soon after.
"That's okay, Jamie. We don't need them. We've got each other!" Quinn took one of his hands in hers. "Hey, come with me and I'll show you how to make Tori's cat say your name! Little Brian Taylor showed me. I can do it myself now!"
Jamie looked left, then right, and suddenly made a run for the stairs.
Quinn called after him. "Jamie? Hey, don't start without me! I haven't showed you how yet! Jamie?" She slowly walked after him.

Okay. I don't care if she gave back my room after one night, this is getting way too bizarre, Daria thought. But how could she possibly stop her mega-popular sister? Everyone loved her. The only girls in school who even came close to her were...
Yes. Of course!
Daria hated the idea, but it was perfect. If this person couldn't help her, no one could.
She picked her way around the room, avoiding several guys who asked her to dance, until she spotted her: a fellow brunette, tall and glamorous, with a distinctly predatory appearance.
It was time to go Quinn-hunting.
Sandi stood at the other side of the snack table, nibbling on a few pretzels and wincing at the stale soda. Tori could've been more popular if her parents weren't such cheapskates. At least their home was acceptable, though-much better decorated than Brittany's nouveau-riche house of horrors.
She looked up to see a formerly unpopular, now popular-due-to-insanity girl heading straight for her. It was that girl who lived with Quinn. Brown hair, sour face, obviously dateless with zero style. But her weirdness commanded a measure of respect, and respect was a challenging concept for Sandi, so she just kept her distance. However, that distance was now closing fast.
She mentally braced herself for a close encounter.
"Hey." Daria said cautiously.
"Um...yeah. Hey."
"So, have you been to one of Quinn's animal-torturing seminars?"
Sandi rolled her eyes. "She's just pretending, cabana girl. Um, I think."
Daria paused, like she had another sarcastic remark on the tip of her tongue but knew it would get her nowhere. "What happened to your cat, anyway? The one who got into your makeup?"
"Oh, you mean Fluffy? He died." She glanced down at the floor.
Awkward silence.
"Thanks. I was sad about it. But then I found some other way to feel." Sandi raised her glass slightly.
Daria smirked. "Glad I could help. So, be honest with me. Are you tired of the insanity trend yet?"
"You and me against Quinn?"
"Tragic. But necessary."
"Let's talk."
Sandi smiled faintly.