AN: This fic was inspired by a really bizarre dream I had about Daria and Jane that played out like a real "Daria" episode and left me going "Whoa" when I woke up. The other inspiration was the fact that almost every single Jane/Daria fic out there was an "oh, no one will accept me/us," "listen to me talk Shakespearean about my love," or "hands went up skirts" fic, which really pissed me off because it seemed more like author-channeled angst than real "Daria," which is what I want to read if I'm going to read fan fiction at all. So, yes, hopefully people enjoy this fic for its attempt to be completely within character. Lastly, this is probably set during the first summer after IICY, there's musical transitions because I prefer an episode format over a simple prose story, and I don't own "Daria" because I'm a poor college student. =P
Dreaming…
Hm, my name is Jane and I am dreaming, and I know this for certain because normally I wouldn't be laying naked in bed, unless it was really damn hot out. poke And that was a real interesting poke.
Although not exactly moving, Jane could feel a hand slowly trailing up her leg, sensuous to the touch and very gentle. Moving up, grazing all the right places, making her smile and go "mmm," as if to say "Thank you, sir, may I have another, sir?" A light kiss on her belly, then working up, until finally moving towards her lips and--
"Daria!?"
"Whoa, I'm awake!" Jane looked like the perfect model for a Fashion Club "fashion don't" poster, her hair in a bizarre, twisted formation that could only come from bedhead. Her eyes remained wide as she stared blankly in front of her, trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.
Okay, please tell me I was not just naked in a dream with Daria, probably doing various things with Daria, and actually enjoying myself before reality crashed like a bird into a window when I noticed it was her and realized it shouldn't've been her.
That wasn't helping. "Just a dream, it was just a dream."
She glanced down and noticed her panties were wet, causing her to quickly cover herself with her hands and exclaim, "Eep!"
Transition to Flying Teapot by Yoko Kanno, leading into the scene
Remember / Surrender / There's nothing you can do / 'Cause love's such a joke / Like a little jack in the box, you know / A little jack in the box
Outside the Lane house, Daria stood in front of the door while waiting for Jane to open it. The artist looked like someone had left ice cubes in her unmentionables for several days while taking blackmail pictures to pass around Lawndale; this basically translated to no hair coordination, very wrinkled clothes, and a face like the end of a marathon. "Hey, Daria, what are you doing here?"
Daria gave her blank expression. "Um, usually I come over around this time. I didn't expect you to be in the middle of private business when I got here, though."
Jane blushed, considering what her friend was implying and considering what really had been going through her mind, albeit against her will. "Heh, no, I wasn't doing anything like that, Daria. I'd lock the doors ahead of time."
Daria let herself in. "Then what happened? Rough night last night?"
Jane finally managed her own usual face. "You have no idea."
They started heading to the stairs until Trent started to pass them. "Hey Daria," he said in his usual tone.
"Hey Trent."
He then noticed Jane's completely disheveled look, made a face of mild surprise, and asked, "Whoa, what happened to you?"
Not breaking her façade, she told him, "Cat fighting in bed."
A few beats of silence. "That just sounds wrong." Another beat. "I think I got a new song to write out, see you two later."
Trent went off to do whatever it is that he does, while the girls went up to Jane's room for their usual thing. About ten minutes passed of Daria doing her writing on the bed while Jane painted, before the artist finally cracked and asked, "Hey Daria, do you put any stock in dreams?"
"Not unless the interest rates improve."
She looked at the writer, little hints of the dream returning to her mind. "So you don't believe in dreams being a window to the soul, expressing sub-conscious desires, prognosticating, or any of that other fancy mumbo-jumbo?"
Daria shared a blank expression with her. "You're not dreaming about ducks taking over the world again, are you?"
Shaking her head, Jane came over to the bed and sat on the edge. "Daria, this is serious. I, um," She started to blush and become nervous, looking away while rubbing the back of her neck. "I had a really weird dream last night. Like, the weirdest."
Daria set down her notebook and scooted over towards her friend. "I told you not to eat that pie, but you wouldn't listen." She took a breath and released it. "So tell me, what was this apocalyptic vision of yours?"
The rouge in Jane's cheeks started to make her face resemble a tomato. "Well… it was… sexual."
"Our little girl is growing up."
"Daria, it was about… you."
Not even Daria could keep a straight face at that remark, her eyes going wide for a brief instant before mostly returning to normal. She forced herself not to back away from her old friend, but this sudden revelation made her feel just a bit uncomfortable. "Is there something you want to tell me, or should I get the tranquilizers?"
Now Jane was really starting to feel bad, because despite the emotionless aura her friend always wore, she could tell when something broke through that shell and made a tiny crack. "Now wait, Daria, don't start freaking out. It was just a dream."
"Yeah, and clothes are only formalities."
Jane got up and started pacing around, keeping her eye mostly on Daria. "I'm serious! It's not like I'm secretly lusting after you or feeling myself up at night thinking of you!"
This whole topic was making Daria self-conscious and rather awkward. "Listen, you wanted a dream interpretation, so here it is: a) electrical impulses in your brain conspired together to create an image in your head and it decided to be you and me doing certain things; b) you were feeling a little turned on last night and your brain compensated by giving you someone, anyone, to sleep with, and my head popped onto the body; or c) you've secretly wanted me all along and we just never noticed."
Jane stood open-mouthed with a shocked expression on her face. She didn't know how to feel about this, especially when she had tried not to think about the dream at all after it happened, but when Daria threw back an analysis like that, well… "What would be your guess?"
Daria stood up, hooking her backpack over her shoulder. "I choose d) so confusing that you need time to think about it on your own without me as a distraction."
She walked out of the bedroom, Jane trying to call after her, but she didn't wait up. Trent stood at the bottom of the stairs, asking the writer, "What's all that about?"
"Jane's thinking about bed-top cat-fighting, and I'm not talking the kind with felines or soap opera stars."
Trent made his deep thinking face while Daria showed herself out.
Transition to All The Things She Said by Tatu, leading into the scene
I keep closing my eyes, but I can't block you out / Wanna fly to a place where it's just you and me / Nobody else, so we can be free / Nobody else, so we can be free / All the things she said / All the things she said /Running through my head / Running through my head
Jane paced around her bedroom, her nervous and upset disposition obvious by the way she wrings her hands and chews her lip. She was mad at herself, mad at Daria, but mostly mad at herself.
What the hell was she thinking by just going and telling Daria all that? She might as well have said, "Hey Daria, I had lesbian fantasies about you last night, wanna reenact them?" She smacked herself in the head several times before collapsing entirely on her bed. Damn it; who would've thought one weird, little dream could throw the whole world out of balance?
Deep sigh; so what now? What the hell was wrong with her? Was she really lusting after her best friend's private juice maker, or was this all a horrible mistake from some sort of artistic dream? She barely ever thought about the possibility of her not liking only guys, as what was the point? Not like she was on the lookout for the next potential boy toy at the moment, but trying to hook up with Daria wasn't exactly a priority in her mind, either. Was it a possibility, though? Can't say she didn't enjoy the dream, but then, she didn't know from the start that it was Daria, and then maybe it wasn't her until that lover made its way to her face--dreams were like that sometimes.
Jane rolled over and shoved her face in a pillow, screaming out loud while pounding her bed with her fists. This dream was making her life a living hell, and Lawndale was bad enough without this sexual alienation. Calming down a bit, she glanced over at the phone, thinking of calling Daria, but since she hadn't really formed a solution yet to this problem, a Daria encounter was out of the question.
The sound of Trent closing his door and walking downstairs caught her attention, so her hurried up and chased him down into the kitchen, where he was sitting at the table, eating a sandwich. They exchanged "yo's" before Jane popped the question, "Trent, do you think I'm gay?"
"Whoa, I don't like labels."
Inward sigh. "Okay, do you consider me more likely to go after leaky plumbing or dipsticks?"
Trent's expression wasn't any different than usual. "Does this have to do with Daria?"
Jane let her head rest on her folded arms upon the table, her expression turning sorrowful. "I had an erotic dream about her, and now I'm all confused."
"I don't see what the big deal is."
"Don't you get it, Trent? I might be really attracted to Daria when all this time I thought I was straight as an arrow. The thought's never even occurred to me to question my sexuality before. Hell, I never even associated the word 'sexuality' with myself. And now this thing with Daria, and I just don't know what to do with myself. I don't wanna drive her away just because I might actually turn out to be attracted to her in small, minute way."
"Like I said, I don't see what the big deal is. If you like her, then you like her. If you don't, you don't. She's your best friend, she's not gonna run away from you just because you like her more."
Jane forced a smirk. "You know, somehow that made a bit of sense and made me feel better."
Trent made his own smirk. "Hey, that's what brothers are for." A few moments passed. "So what are you going to do now?"
She looked off to the side, her expression turning to melancholy. "I don't know, Trent. I don't know."
Outro to Push It by Garbage, with images of Jane confused and Daria walking away
This is the noise that keeps me awake / My head explodes and my body aches / Push it
Part 2 of 3 coming soon.