Saturday

Morning found the Morgendorffer sisters sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. Had Helen been there, she would have said they both looked emotionally drained. Had Jake been there, he would have been shoveling cereal into his face while reading the paper.

As it was, both sat in silence for awhile, before Daria spoke. "You okay?"

Quinn shrugged. "I talked to Joey yesterday afternoon. It was a tough conversation. You?"

"I talked to Taylor." Daria looked down. "Do you—" She paused, as Quinn looked on helplessly. "Never mind."

Quinn's eyes reflected her sister's pain, but Daria, she knew, would not welcome soft words or unasked for solutions. I'm learning, she thought, and waited for Daria to speak again.

After a few minutes of silence, Daria did. "So, I take it things are moving along according to plan on the student side."

Now it was Quinn's turn to look away. "Yes. Everything's fine. Dawn's out, Lisa's out, and Scarlett's following doesn't exist. No one cares what Melinda does. It's just..." she trailed off.

Quinn, Daria knew, was not like her. When Quinn trailed off, she wanted to be questioned. So Daria did so. "Just what?"

"Well, I got all those people to do all those things to themselves. I mean, I know we've talked about this before, and I know I used to manipulate boys all the time, so it's not like I suddenly found out I'm this supervillain or something, and I did try to do the right thing, and I know you helped, and so did Mom and a bunch of other people, but I'm worried that in the end things might not be any better, and I might like it, you know?"

Daria took a minute to unravel Quinn's verbal knot. "You're worried you might get off on getting people to do what you want?"

Quinn nodded. "I mean, it's one thing to get boys to buy you stuff. That's part of being a girl, and when you're ready to settle down, you stop." Daria frowned at this, but let it pass. "But we got people to start fights in the halls just to convince other people to do other things. And we made Jane go out with Skylar, so Skylar could humiliate himself. I always thought I was a good person. What if I'm not? What if it gets hard to remember why I do it, and I can't stop."

"Let me ask you something, Quinn." Daria said. "After all this, do you think the end justifies the means? We hurt the people who hurt us, and stopped them from hurting other people."

"But we had to hurt a lot of people to do it. And that bothers me. So no, the ends don't always justify the means."

"Well, then Macquinnavelli," Daria smiled, "I think you're safe. As long as you know how dangerous your skills are, you can still be a good person. It's when you forget that problems happen."

"That's true," Quinn said, brightening a bit.

"Besides," Daria added. "We're pretty much done, right?"

"Not quite, Quinn said. "There's one more back to break, and it's gonna take a little work."

* * *

Lisa's Friday had ended badly, and her Saturday wasn't off to a good start. Her mother had bawled her out for neglecting homework and chores, so it was almost noon by the time she was ready to try to rebuild her shattered fortunes. She started with Dawn, figuring that the enemy of her enemy was at least useful. In this she was sorely mistaken.

"I don't want to talk to you," were Dawn's first words to her. And a minute or so of incoherent blubbering had preceded them.

"You want to let what happened to you go?" Lisa asked.

"You're what happened to me, Lisa, And now you call to gloat? Go fuck yourself."

"Brittany's the new cheer Captain, Dawn. We both got played by Zoe. And I think I know who was behind her."

"I don't care!" Dawn railed. "Just because you didn't get what you want doesn't mean you didn't screw me over. I'm done with cheerleaders and I'm done with you!" *click*

Short conversations with Nikki and Angie didn't go any better. Each one told her that Zoe had quit the squad too, but other than that, they were overjoyed to have Brittany back as Captain. No help there.

She sighed and made the call she'd been dreading. "Griffin residence. Sandi speaking." Throwing myself on Sandi Griffin's mercy. Too bad she doesn't have any.

"We have a problem," Lisa said. She quickly sketched what had happened at cheer practice, and waited for Sandi's response.

"It seems our little council is falling apart," Sandi said. "I hear that Scarlett's little group didn't materialize either."

"So what are we going to do?" Lisa demanded.

"We?" Lisa felt like she could hear Sandi's eyebrow go up. "I don't know what we," Sandi emphasized the word, "can do. Are you even on the cheer squad anymore?" Not sure of the answer, Lisa didn't say anything, allowing Sandi to roll over her. "The point our plan was to have people of equal power. We can't do that if you don't have a power base."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"There's a spot in the Fashion Club if you want it. But that's all I can do for you," Sandi said, quite smugly.

"Great," Lisa said, and hung up the phone. No power. No friends. No allies. What the hell do I do now?

* * *

Quinn picked at the slice of cheeseless pizza in front of her. Pizza King wasn't the best place for the conversation she wanted to have, but on a weekend with the place almost totally empty, it wasn't too bad. Her patience was being tested by the person she wanted to talk to, though, and that could be a bad sign.

Finally, the door opened and Kelly strode in. She didn't acknowledge Quinn until she'd ordered and been served her slice—cheese and pepperoni—at which point she took the seat opposite in Quinn's booth.

Controlling her nausea, Quinn essayed a smile. "Thanks for coming to talk to me."

"You should thank me," Kelly said. "After Thursday's fiasco, you're lucky I don't go Brooke on you."

"But you're still in the Fashion Club."

"Because Sandi hasn't seen fit to dispose of me, yet," Kelly said and took a defiant bite of her pizza.

"True," Quinn said. "But why do you want to be in the Fashion Club? I'm not trying to be insulting or anything, but high fashion's clearly not your thing." Kelly, in hot pants and an electric green top, shrugged and ate more pizza.

"I mean," Quinn added, "I know you're not in it just because you enjoy Sandi Griffin's company."

That got a harsh laugh. "Ain't that the truth. But the Club is a popularity center. And it beats trying to be a cheerleader. I know Dawn's the one who pushed me in, but she's a stone bitch, and all that school spirit and jumping around isn't for me. I'd rather deal with Sandi."

"Dawn's not head cheerleader anymore."

If Quinn expected Kelly to be surprised, she was disappointed. The other girl merely took another bite of pizza and nodded.

Quinn's stomach lurched unpleasantly as a piece of pepperoni caught in the corner of Kelly's mouth. Ewwww… Even Daria and Jane aren't that sloppy. And they eat those horrible garbage pies. She controlled her gag reflex and went on. "Here's the thing. Dawn's gone, Li's gone, and Sandi's probably going to make a play for the top spot again. I'm going to stop her, and you can help."

"Going to take over for yourself?" Kelly asked, finally wiping the corner of her mouth.

"Uh, no," Quinn said. "There's nothing worth having, with Li gone. She propped the whole thing up. Do you really think Sandi could have run the school with just Stacy and Tiffany at her side?"

"What about you?"

"Sandi hasn't trusted me since Day One. She used me, sure, but she never let me have real power. What did I care? I had all the boys after me."

Kelly's eyes grew intent. "But you could run things. You're smart, and if your four-eyed sister is on your side, you'd be unbeatable. And all the boys would follow you again."

Quinn sighed. "Until someone took me down. I'm not interested in taking anything over. I don't even care if Sandi keeps the Fashion Club. But I'll take it from her if she thinks she can use it to run the school. And you can help."

"What's in it for me?" Kelly grimaced. "Why shouldn't I just sell you to Sandi?"

"Not having to deal with Sandi anymore," Quinn quirked a smile, and then her expression grew deadly serious. Her eyes bored into Kelly. "There's no ultimate popularity to be had anymore. You can tell Sandi everything, and stay in the Fashion Club. But I'll still take it down, and if I don't simple inertia will. There's nothing propping it up. Or you can help me finish things on Monday, and go back to doing things you like and hanging out with people who like you for you."

Kelly gave Quinn a long look, digesting the statements as she digested pepperoni pizza. Finally, she stood, half-finished slice in hand. "Well, thanks for the interesting conversation."

"Think about it, Kelly," Quinn said. "See you Monday."

As Kelly opened the door, a blond frame in denim jacket filled the doorway. Kelly slipped past without a word, as the blond girl's eyes met Quinn's.

"I think we should talk," Jen said.

"I think you're right. Pull up a slice."

* * *

It took Jen a couple of minutes to get her slice, and she spent them wondering how she found herself here, waiting to have a heart to heart with Quinn Morgendorffer of all people. Eavesdrop on one monologue... Who knew there was a brain and a wicked sense of humor under all that bouncy hair? But is she still the same old Quinn? Did I even know the same old Quinn? She sighed, took her slice, and went to sit down.

Quinn was there, lost in thought, picking idly at a cheeseless slice. "How can you eat that? The cheese is the best part." Jen asked, suddenly wondered how long the other girl had been there.

"Delicate complexion," Quinn said, with a half-smile. "I think at least half my problems with Daria over the years boil down to the fact that she has perfect skin and I don't. Well, except for that time she got that stress rash. But somehow I don't think my beauty regimen is what you want to talk about."

"Perceptive," Jenn said, giving nothing. She'd thrown in with Quinn eagerly enough, and really wanted to like the other girl, but she was wary, too wary, of Quinn's skills as a manipulator, which had been on display all week. She took a small, neat bite of pizza.

"Well, there's only so much I can say. You know what I've been trying to do," Quinn said, sounding unhappy. "And even though you're not friends with Daria, you know she's not going to put herself out just to make me more popular."

"Daria," Jen said, "is not reassuring. I spoke to her yesterday, you know, when Li announced her leave of absence, and got nothing for my trouble. Talking to Daria is like talking to a wall."

"Well," Quinn shrugged, ignoring her pizza in earnest. "She's painfully honest. She only lies if she absolutely has to. And she's mastered silence, so she can not talk for hours if she has to."

"Like I said, not reassuring." Jenn took another bite of pizza and carefully dabbed her lips, causing Quinn to chuckle. "What's that about?" she said, more than a little hostile.

Sorry, the redhead said. "It's just that you're so neat and careful when you eat. I was talking to Kelly, who is supposed to be a fashionista, and she eats like she's been raised by wolves. I found the contrast funny."

"And what were you talking to Kelly about?"

"You know. Or you can guess," Quinn looked away for a moment. "Look," she said, "I don't want to get into details here, but Daria and I are trying to finish this whole thing, and the last bit is pretty much down to me. And I need to use the tools I have. I want to be friends, Jen, but I can't stop being me."

Jen looked carefully into the other girl's eyes, and saw what she thought was—what I hope is—honesty. But there was also something hidden there, a gate behind which no one could pass. "I want to be friends, too, Quinn," she finally said. "But there has to be trust. I'm not sure if that's possible."

Quinn sighed. "What can I say? I won't be Miss Teen Queen anymore. I don't want to be Miss Teen Queen anymore." She slapped a palm down on the table, for emphasis, causing their plates to jump. "Just being Quinn is hard enough. But I swore I'd take this sick system down. And If I'm right," a sudden feral fire lit her eyes, "it'll all be done by Monday."

"Monday," Jen said, and Quinn's eyes were normal again.

"Monday," Quinn said, and extended a hand.

After a moment, Jen took it. "I'll hold you to that." And then, like two friends, they chatted idly as they finished their pizza.

* * *

Zoe rang the doorbell of Taylor's house with more than a little trepidation. In happier days, she'd been here fairly often. She and Taylor had never dated, but they'd been thick as thieves through Middle School, and still friends through most of high school. Until two months ago.

As chimes sounded behind the closed door, she froze, part of her wanting to talk to him, the rest of her hoping the door would stay closed forever. And so she stood when Taylor opened the door, unable to run or meet his eyes. "Zoe?"

His voice broke the spell. "Uh, hi Taylor. I, uh, came by to talk to you."

"What about?" he asked, voice hardening.

"Can I come in?" she said, voice plaintive. "Or will you come out? I feel weird talking to you through the screen door."

"Depends on what you came to talk about. I haven't forgotten what you did to me."

Zoe looked down to hide the hurt in her eyes. "Well, that's just it," she said softly. "I came to apologize."

Taylor looked blankly at her for a moment, then swung the screen door open and stepped onto the stoop. "Apologize?" he finally said.

She nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "What I did was horrible, and I've been trying to make up for it. I quit the squad, you know."

Using his thumb, he turned her chin until she faced him. His eyes shone with sympathy and his tones were soft, but his words were still harsh. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Nothing," she said, wanting to turn away but held in place by his eyes. "I mean, it's all connected, but me quitting the squad doesn't change what I did to you. And I don't expect you to forgive me. But I valued our friendship, and I threw it all away for Dawn's plots. And I'm sorry that I did that. And I'm sorry I didn't respect you enough to stand up for you."

"What about Daria?" he asked.

"I apologized to Daria already. I would have told you…," she trailed off for a moment, as a tear came unbidden to her eye. "You've both been hurt so much already. I didn't know how you'd take it."

Silence stretched, and tears ran in quiet tracks down Zoe's face. Finally Taylor spoke, "I accept your apology, Zoe. But I don't know if we can ever really be friends."

"I know," Zoe almost whispered. "I just don't want you to hate me anymore."

"I don't hate you anymore, Zoe." Taylor said.

"That'll have to do for now," she said. Then she turned and walked away, leaving a thoughtful Taylor behind.

* * *

Sandi dialed the phone. As she listened to the dial tone, she thought about what she'd heard. Sandi was quite willing to believe the worst of others around her—the number of raging incompetents at Lawndale High was simply staggering—so seeing someone's plans fail was no surprise. But seeing several people's plans fail at once made her suspicious of outside influences. And she knew one person who was always a thorn in her side.

Finally the phone connected. "Hello," an uncertain voice said.

"Stacy, it's Sandi."

"Eep! I mean, uh, hi Sandi!" Stacy tried valiantly to hide the fear in her voice, while Sandi wondered again why she was saddled with such poor help.

"Enough of that, Stacy," Sandi's voice was harsh. "Lisa and Scarlett screwed up, but Lisa did take down Dawn. Brittany's head cheerleader again. That makes things harder but leaves us with an opportunity. The top spot is ripe for the taking again."

"Sure, Sandi," Stacy said. "With Dawn out, it should be easy for you to take over."

"Not quite. There's no way Brittany would be clever enough to take the captaincy back, so someone must have put her back. And it wasn't one of the other cheerleaders. So it must have been someone else."

"You don't mean...." Stacy trailed off.

"Quinn." Sandi said the name like a chime of doom.

"But she tried and missed, Sandi," Stacy said. "You already put her down."

"Don't be simple, Stacy," Sandi said. "That was to lure me, and everyone else, off guard. And now Skylar's down, and Dawn and Lisa are down, and Ms. Li's gone. That's got Quinn's fingerprints all over it."

"But what can I do?" Stacy almost wailed.

Sandi's patience, never much to begin with, frayed completely. "Save me from idiots," she snapped. "Find out what she's up to, Stacy! Then tell me and I'll put a stop to it. I'm not losing out again, and I'm sure as shit not losing out to Quinn." With a savage stab, she disconnected the phone and flung it at the wall.

* * *

Daria had just hung up the phone with Jane when there was a knock at the door. Her chat with Jane had been nice, if a little difficult. Things weren't ever going to be the same as they were before, but with a little effort on both their parts—okay, mostly my part—there was no reason they couldn't be just as good.

The knock sounded again. "Who could that be?" she said, rising from the couch. As far as she knew, Quinn was already out on her Saturday night rounds, and her parents weren't expecting anyone. The last thing she expected to see when she opened the door was a haggard, wild-eyed Jodie.

"Uh, hi," Daria started to say, but was interrupted by Jodie pushing her into the living room.

The dark-skinned girl seemed to be trying to say something, but all that came out were wordless growls—whether of pain or anger, Daria wasn't sure.

"Jodie, please calm down," Daria said. A ringing slap was her answer.

"You! You!" She seemed to choke on the words. Finally, she collapsed in tears.

Oh, god. Not again. "What's the matter, Jodie?"

Jodie's tear-ravage face stared up. "How can you ask me that?!" Her voice was a wail.

Daria bit back a sarcastic retort. "Let me help you to the couch," she said, offering an arm. "I'll get a couple of sodas, and you can tell me what's wrong. And if it's really my fault or Quinn's, I'll let you beat the hell out of me. Deal?"

Jodie, still in tears, didn't respond, but did take the offered arm. Once she was installed on the couch, Daria disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a pair of full glasses and something close to composure. To her shock, the first thing she heard was, "When she doesn't get off, this randy insect takes her lover's head off! Premature decapitation, praying mantis style, tonight on Sick, Sad World."

"I didn't know you watched this," Daria said, taking a seat on the couch and putting a soda in front of Jodie.

"I don't," the other girl said in a brittle voice. "But I guess I'll have plenty of time now, if my parents don't kick me out of the house."

"What are you talking about?"

"Like you don't know!" Jodie snapped.

"Assume for a minute that I don't. Pretend that I've been too hung up with other things to follow you around after Ms. Li's office on Thursday," Daria let a little anger touch her voice, though the main thought going through her mind was worry. "And while you're at it, act like I meant what I said when I tried to defend you from Ms. Li."

Their eyes met, and the smoldering rage in Jodie's died down as it met the promise of understanding without judgment in Daria's. After a deep breath, Jodie gave Friday's sequence of events, as Daria listened carefully. "…so I've been kicked out of student government and Mack broke up with me."

"God, Jodie, I'm sorry," Daria said. "I promise you that none of this was my idea, and it better not have been Quinn's. The reason I didn't tell you about the switch wasn't even because you were mad. I wanted you to have plausible deniability, in case Li found out what was going on. That way, you could honestly say I'd given you something unimportant."

"But it came in handy later, didn't it." This time, Jodie's voice held bitterness for herself.

"Yes," Daria said, matter-of-factly. "It did. Looks like I owe you an apology."

Shock painted Jodie's face. "Because I sold you out to Li?"

"No, because I, or more accurately, Quinn and I, used you before that. We needed misdirection, because Li was about to throw us out in the open. So we kept everyone in the dark, even people who had helped us, like you." Daria looked away, and her tone took on disgust. "We wanted your reactions to be more realistic. It worked too."

"So Quinn—"

"No use blaming Quinn," Daria cut in. "It was my idea. And it worked. Quinn's not the only monster Machiavelli in the Morgendorffer family. So if you want to beat the hell out of me, go ahead."

For a moment, Daria read temptation in Jodie's eyes, but it faded as Jodie looked away. "I don't know what I want," she finally whispered.

"So why'd you come here?"

"I don't know. I wanted someone to blame, I guess." Jodie gave Daria a sad look. "But there's no point if the person you're blaming just accepts it. So now I have to face what happened."

"Maybe I can help."

Sudden bitter laughter burst from Jodie. "Maybe you can," she finally said. "Maybe that's really why I came here, to see the one person I know is smarter than me."

"I wouldn't go that far," Daria smiled slightly, "but I'm here if you want me. First you have to know what you want."

"I want Mack back!" Jodie said.

"And the school government?"

Jodie shrank back from Daria's suddenly intent eyes. "I guess. I—" She looked away.

"Look, Jodie. If you want the Presidency back, I'm sure you'll have no problem. Li's gone and the worst of the petty power plays should go with her. And I don't think Melinda has any idea how much work you do. If you leave her alone for a week, she'll probably be begging you to come back." Daria could see the tiny smile on Jodie's face at the thought of her oh-so-ambitious Vice President's discomfort. "But you have to decide if you want it. What happened was brutal, but it's also an opportunity."

"And Mack?" Jodie said, with a sigh.

"I can't really help you there. You have to win back his trust." A wicked smile suddenly lighted Daria's face. "Of course, a couple of weeks of being treated like chum by the sharks that infest the Lawndale High dating pool might help."

"I thought that's what you and Quinn were trying to get rid of," Jodie said.

This time it was Daria's turn to laugh bitterly. "Are you serious? It's just that Li had this whole horrible structure, and she used Sandi and then Dawn to enforce it. And Dawn was a willing participant, which made everything worse. If that's broken, I'll be happy. But people are people, Jodie, and even the best of them can be cruel and venal. There's nothing Quinn and I can do about that."

Jodie sighed, acknowledging the truth of Daria's words. After a moment, she brightened. "Do you really think that might help me get Mack back?"

"I don't know, Jodie. But I know Mack's a decent guy. And you," she smiled lopsidedly, "despite the occasional lapse, are a decent girl. That's gotta count for something."

As quickly as it came, Jodie's smile died. "Maybe not enough."

"True," Daria said.

"Well, I'd better go. Thanks for the advice."

"Worth what you paid for it."

"And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"So am I, Jodie. So am I."

To Daria's everlasting shock, Jodie gave her a quick, wordless hug, and let herself out.

Sunday

And on Sunday, they rested.

Events, however continued on, as Daria and Quinn found out when they came downstairs for dinner and found Helen on the phone.

"Uh huh. Yes. Thank you for letting me know. Yes. I know. No, no, thank you, Superintendent Cartwright."

Daria and Quinn exchanged looks as Helen hung up the phone. "Well," she said to her daughters, "that was Superintendent Cartwright from the school district."

"Thanks for spoiling the surprise, Mom," Quinn said.

"Yeah," Daria added. "We were bound to figure it out eventually."

Helen was too pleased at how well her girls worked together to give them the dressing down they deserved. Instead, she said, "He called to let me know what would be going on at the school tomorrow. Mr. DeMartino will be stepping in as Acting Principal for the rest of the school year. He didn't say if he had any plans beyond that.

Quinn nodded, while Daria said, "Good. If it wasn't for Mr. DeMartino, both of us probably would have ended up expelled. No good deed and all that."

Helen frowned. "If he hadn't roped you into his plans, you probably wouldn't have been in danger of expulsion in the first place."

"Come on, mom." This from Quinn. "Li had it in for us almost from Day One. Especially for Daria. I'll bet she set me up as a way to get us both expelled, even if DeMartino didn't give anything to Daria."

"True," Helen allowed. "The Superintendent also said they'll be gutting the high tech security stuff and they should be able to get most of the money back for it, plus some of Li's secret accounts."

"But not all of them," Daria said.

"No, not all of them."

"And O'Neill?"

"Funny you should ask that, Daria." Helen said. "Cartwright said that O'Neill is gone. They called to ask if he was okay with DeMartino being promoted over him because O'Neill had seniority. But his phone was disconnected. The police searched his place and found nothing."

Daria sighed. "I think we found Ms. Li's partner in crime."

"A little late, though," Quinn added.

Helen shrugged. "You win some, you lose some. And even when you win, you don't necessarily get all the bad guys."

* * *

It was a couple of hours later, plus the couple hours time difference, which made it past midnight in Rio, when two policemen came upon the corpse. It was in remarkably good shape, or would have been, but for the deep gash scoring the throat from ear to ear. But it hadn't been beaten or abused in any way, just dumped on a pier overlooking the water.

The older cop, graying at the temples with a droopy moustache, sighed and spoke in Portuguese. "Another stupid Anglo," he said to his younger partner. "They come down here and think that because they're from the big bad Estados Unidos, they can do anything they want."

"Well, whatever this guy did was fatal," the other man, long face frowning under a near-military buzzcut. "Should we search him?"

"Yeah," the older one spat. "But you probably won't find anything. This job looks professional."

"So you think…"

"I try not to think. Just makes the job harder."

"So what do you want to do? Haul the guy in?"

"Sure, and we can spend the night writing reports. 'Fortysomething-year-old unidentified white male killed. No identification, no clues, no nothing." He rolled his eyes. "Cap'll love that. Another dead tourist and more news."

"You got another idea?"

"Sure." He produced a penknife from inside his coat. "Pop the lungs, roll him out into the tide, and pretend we never saw him. Even if someone misses him, no one'll think we know anything."

The younger officer looked on the verge of saying something, but then he thought about his wife and newborn son, and the nice apartment they had on the good side of town. "Fucking Anglo asshole," he muttered. "Lucky he gets this much."

Ten minutes later, they were walking away as a body sank into the still waters, dark and deep.

Monday Next

Helen was the first to face the results of her actions. A late-night beep from Eric told her to be in at 7 AM, so she was up and out long before the girls or Jake woke. On arrival, she expected a mound of paperwork and the standard Schrecter excuses. if that slimy sonofabitch ever puts a move on me...

In fact, what she found was Eric almost cowering in his office. "Riordan wants to talk to you," he said, a quiver in his voice. "Don't make the man wait, Helen."

Seeing the terror in her boss' eyes, Helen had to wonder if the mild-mannered Riordan was really at the back of the request. She headed upstairs with some trepidation, but when she got there, Riordan was the only person in the office. He gestured toward a chair, and she sat with noticeable relief.

The older man's unsmiling expression stole some of that relief. "I didn't want to have this meeting during business hours, Helen. Do you know why?"

"No, sir," Helen said. She'd forgotten exactly how ruthless this man could be.

"You took a very big chance on Friday, showing up at the school. We'd hoped for a more subtle, behind-the-scenes approach."

Helen felt a chill creep over her, and gripped the leather armrests of her chair for support. "With all due respect, sir," she said, "a direct approach was called for. And you put no conditions on my actions when I spoke to you last."

"True," he said. "But the goings on at the high school have drawn the eye of Himself. That's not an eye you necessarily want to be under."

"You said Himself wasn't involved in the high school!"

"So I did. But that doesn't mean he won't take an interest in what's going on."

Helen couldn't repress a shudder. Her entire career might hinge on this conversation, and she had no idea what the fulcrum was. "I won't apologize for what I did. It was necessary. But I will do whatever damage control the firm feels is needed. Is that enough?"

"And if it's not?" Riordan's eyes bored into hers.

"I'll take whatever consequences come down." She suddenly realized, in a way she never had before, that losing her job was only the beginning of what she might face. The firm had its hands in lots of places and had many connections that she tried never to think about. Maybe they'll let us leave. It's not like I really...

Her dire thoughts were interrupted by Riordan's wide smile. "Good girl!"

"Huh?"

This was a test. You passed." At her confused look, he continued. "Himself likes people who won't crack under pressure. And so do I."

Relief flooded her face. "So I'm not in any trouble."

"Quite the reverse, actually. It's nice to see someone under Eric Schrecter who can take decisive action. But Helen...,"

Wariness crept back over her, and she leaned forward in her chair. "Yes."

"You will be more discreet in the future?" His words were avuncular, but there was steel underneath.

"Count on it."

* * *

The changes in Lawndale High were titanic, but though she'd been largely responsible for bringing them about, Quinn did not particularly care about them at that moment. DeMartino in the principal's office had been disconcerting, even though she'd known about it last night, and the thumps and crashed caused by workmen already removing Ms. Li's surveillance control center hardly made for a convivial learning atmosphere, but Quinn had too much on her mind to notice.

The last move of the game was about to start, and she wondered why she didn't feel more. After all, this would be her coup, the last veil drawn back, as she stepped over her ultimate rival to claim victory. Victory seems like a hollow thing, she thought. I suppose it's because I'm glutted on revenge. She looked around the bathroom—once the Fashion Club's bathroom—and then in the mirror.

She saw the same doll face, the same bouncy red hair and rosebud lips. A stylish top accentuated her long neck. Only the eyes were different, deeper somehow. They held new-won wisdom and more than a little sadness. She fancied that if she focused only on her eyes, she could see Daria staring back out at her. No wonder you're so sad all the time, sis.

The sound of the bell ending first period was muffled by the closed door. She would probably get detention for ditching class early, but it was something she needed. I have to know this is necessary, and not just my own personal vendetta. She figured she had about thirty seconds before the door opened, so she faded into one of the stalls.

Sure enough, Sandi strode in right on schedule, muttering to herself. Quinn couldn't make out all the words, but was pretty sure she heard "idiots" and "fucking Quinn." She waited until Sandi was fully engaged in primping before emerging from the stall.

"We need to talk," she said softly, as Sandi's expression stiffened in the mirror.

Sandi made a growling noise in her throat, as her reflected eyes flashed with icy hate. For a second Quinn thought the dark-haired girl would turn and physically attack her, but instead the other girl spoke. "I know what you're up to, Quinn, and it won't work."

"What I am I up to, Sandi?" Quinn asked.

"Dawn's down and Lisa's down, and you think you're going to make yourself Queen of the school." She tossed her dark hair, still looking at the mirror and not Quinn. "Well, it's not going to happen."

"No," Quinn agreed, voice still soft. "It's not."

Completely wrongfooted, Sandi just stared ahead, mouth dropping open.

"Don't you see?" Quinn said. "It's over. Li's gone. There's no top spot to fight over anymore. Just a bunch of kids trying to get through high school."

"What are you talking about?" Sandi grabbed the sides of the sink, hands clenching with the intensity of her anger. "There's still a food chain and you're not going to be at the top of it."

"I don't want to be at the top of it. I don't care about the food chain or even keeping up my old dating schedule. I just don't want to see more people get hurt fighting over something worthless." Quinn's voice almost broke, but she steadied herself. "We're all in this together, Sandi. Me, you, the rest of the Fashion Club, the jocks, the geeks, the school spirit kids, the weirdos, everyone. We all just want to get through high school so we can start our real lives. We should be allies."

"Very touching, Quinn," Sandi sneered. "But you don't think I'm buying that, do you? I'm not letting you take the top spot, and I'm not letting you take the Fashion Club."

"So that's your final word?" Quinn said.

Sandi said nothing, staring ahead into the mirror.

"Look at me, Sandi."

Slowly, almost as if impelled by the soft urgency of the redhead's words, Sandi turned. Finally, after an eternal moment, she met Quinn's eyes. "That's my final word, you bitch," she hissed.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Quinn said and opened the bathroom door. A large crowd stood outside, including the other two members of the Fashion Club and Kelly. Behind them, Tori and Brooke looked on.

Seeing the crowd, Sandi strode out, her most superior expression in place. "Do you really think you're going to beat me this time, Quinn? I don't care what you did to Dawn. Right now, I hold the cards."

"I was your friend once," Quinn said, "so I'll give you one more chance. Forget about ruling the cliques and be happy with the Fashion Club."

"You were never my friend," Sandi growled, "but the Fashion Club is mine, and so is the school."

"Not any more," Quinn said sadly. "Stacy?"

With a steely glare most unlike her usual terror, Stacy Rowe stepped forward and spoke in a clear, measured voice. "I call for a vote of no confidence in Sandi Griffin as president of the Fashion Club." Sandi's jaw dropped.

"Iiiiiii second," Tiffany said in her usual way.

"You can't..." Sandi said.

"We just did," Stacy returned.

"Not yet," Sandi recovered. "Kelly's still in the Fashion Club." Because you hadn't gotten around to kicking her out yet, Quinn thought. She owes you no loyalty.

And sure enough, Kelly stepped forward, the identical evil grin from Thursday. "Let's make it unanimous," she said. "And for good measure, I nominate Quinn Morgendorffer as new President."

"Seconded," Stacy and Tiffany said together, and it was done, as Sandi watched in horror.

"Thank you," Quinn said. "Kelly, before we go on, did you have anything else to say."

"Yes," she said. "I quit. I'm tired of pretending I'm something I'm not. If I never see another copy of Waif, it'll be too soon."

Quinn nodded grateful thanks and turned back to the crowd. "Brooke? Tori? Are you here." The named girls stepped forward, and Quinn looked them both over. "You understand what just happened, right?" Steel crept over the sadness in her voice. At their nods, she continued in a calmer tone. "And can you forgive each other, right?" Again they nodded. "Good. If Stacy and Tiffany have no objections, you're both in the Fashion Club."

Stacy and Tiffany both smiled and congratulated the other two girls. Quinn let them celebrate for a moment, before continuing. "The full club hasn't made a new member in awhile, so you'll have to come up with some fun ceremony. And now," she added, catching sight of a mass of blonde hair at the back of the crowd. "I'm announcing my resignation as President of the Fashion Club and nominating Stacy Rowe as my successor."

Total silence fell in the hall as dozens of jaws dropped. Finally sound started again, led by Tori and Brooke's shocked babble. Quinn ignored it all, meeting Stacy's eyes. She hadn't been a hundred percent sure Stacy would back her when she told the other girl how the scene would end, but looking now she saw gratitude and loyalty. They both knew it wasn't a bribe, but an earned promotion, and if they'd had to step outside the normal protocols to do it, well they both understood the reasons.

"So you sold me out to take my place," Sandi spat at Stacy after the pro-forma vote made her president. Quinn longed to slap her down once and for all, but knew this was a test Stacy had to pass on her own.

"Oh, Sandi. you are so naive." Stacy's smile was vicious. "Do you really think Quinn had to work hard to convince me to turn on you, after you mocked me and belittled me for a year and a half and then kicked me out because Dawn told you to? I was a double-agent all along, Sandi." Turning her back on her former friend's blank stare, she turned to the new Fashion Club. "Come on. Cashman's is having a sale this afternoon and we've got to come up with a coordination plan."

Quinn watched Stacy and the others walk away, a sad smile on her face. She saw the flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye, but didn't bother moving. Before Sandi's punch could land, a fishnetted hand caught her arm. "Uh, Quinn," Andrea said. "I'm sorry about what I said the other day. Do you want me to make up for it by beating the tar out of this one?"

"No," Quinn said. "She's beaten and she knows it." She turned back to Sandi for the last time. "I don't care who you date or how popular you are, or even what you say about me, Sandi. But if you hurt any of my friends, Andrea beating you to a pulp will look like a day in the park." Quinn emphasized the words with a deadly glare. Given the speed with which Sandi fled, she felt she got her point across.

As the crowd thinned, Jen finally waked over. "We okay?" she asked Andrea, and the Goth nodded.

To Quinn, she said only, "Monday." but she smiled, and Quinn felt a sudden warmth. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, she thought.

They were all late to second period, but just this once, Mr. DeMartino let it slide.

* * *

Daria sat alone on the roof, her back to one of the air conditioner vents. It was lunch hour, and the Listapo was gone, so she felt confident her alone time would not be interrupted, and she badly needed some alone time.

The last week—heck, the last few months—had been hard quite as hard on her as it had on Quinn, and if she was overall happy with the outcome—the departure of Li, the breaking of the institutional clique system, and the improved relationship with her mother and her sister—she had a lot of changes to process and internalize.

Looking down at her backpack brought one of the most obvious changes to her attention: nail polish. The shade was only a muted pink, but it represented a major step for Daria. Without ulterior motive, she'd colored her nails and painted her face, and found that she felt… comfortable. Her idiot repelling armor was also gone—green jacket replaced by a comfortable, if flattering, green sweater, and her skirt was longer and but tighter. With a sense of vertigo, she suddenly felt like she was looking down at Quinn's hands, Quinn's clothes, Quinn's body. I guess we're more alike than I ever thought, sis.

Underneath it all, she realized it didn't bother her. This isn't a new me or a different me, it's just a part of me I've ignored. She reached for her bag, and more importantly, her copy of Focault's Pendulum, and smiled slightly. It's not like I suddenly don't like to read or anything, just that I might try to have fun, and even let Jane have fun.

Before she could get too far into the book, a voice from behind called her name. The temptation to stay silent rose, but she pushed it down. After all, it wasn't an unfriendly voice. "Over here," she said. "On the other side of the AC vent."

After a second, Zoe came into view. "Hi, Daria," she said uncertainly. "Did you want some company?"

"Uh, I guess so," Daria said after a moment. "How'd you know I was up here?"

"Jane," Zoe said, and then noticed the book. "If you're reading, I don't want to interrupt."

"That's okay," Daria said. "The book's a little too dense to be read in half-hour sittings anyway."

"I have to confess," Zoe said with a nervous laugh, "I'm not much of a reader. I prefer music."

"Please don't say you're into Boys R Guys or Guys R Boys or whatever the hell is popular this week. Because I don't think I could take that." Daria's voice was flat, though not unfriendly.

Zoe laughed. "Not quite. I like a lot of the indie stuff: Sleater-Kinney, Boys Against Girls, the L7, the Donnas. Smashing Pumpkins and Alice in Chains aren't bad, but I can do without most of the rest of the grunge stuff."

Daria blinked. "I, uh…. That's some interesting musical taste you've got there. What did your fellow cheerleaders—"

"Ex-fellow cheerleaders," Zoe cut her off firmly.

"You know what I mean," Daria said.

"Wasn't really any of their business," Zoe said. "Most of them like music as background noise, something to dance and cheer to. I like music to listen to, you know?"

"Cool," Daria said, a genuine smile on her face. Before she had a chance to think, she added. "Maybe we could hang out and listen to stuff together. My collection's a bit out of date."

Zoe's response was cut off by the sound of a heavy tread behind them. Soon Mack appeared, looking worried. "Daria! There you are!"

"Mack!" she responded, light mockery in her tone. "Here I am!" She fixed him with a penetrating square. "Why were you looking for me?"

"Just checking up on you. I was a little worried. You seemed," he paused, "distant this morning."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "As opposed to every other day, when I'm a bosom friend to all?" Zoe laughed, and after a moment, so did Mack.

"I suppose you're right. It's just, well, you're dressing differently again, and so much stuff has been going on lately. I just wanted to make sure you weren't being ignored." He gave her a lopsided smile. "That's what friends do."

Daria looked over at Zoe, and back at Mack. For a long moment, she paused, not saying anything, but then a smile spread slowly across her features. I guess I have more friends than I thought. "They do, don't they? Thank you, Mack. And thank you too, Zoe." She was about to invite Mack to join them when another footfall sounded.

"What is this, French farce?" Daria muttered, and then swallowed a breath as Taylor emerged around the vent.

"Uh," he said, eloquently, looking from Daria to her two companions. "Hi, Zoe. Hey, Mack."

Both nodded, and Mack turned to Zoe. "I think our friend might need a little alone time." Daria and Taylor both shot them grateful looks.

Left alone, the two simply stared at each other for a long moment, before speaking at the same time.

"Daria—"

"Taylor—"

Daria inclined her head, inviting him to continue, so with a sheepish look, Taylor did. "Listen, Daria, I know that a lot has gone on, and it's hard to get over, but I think I have an idea. Let's just start over as friends, and if something more happens, it happens. And if not, not."

"You mean, wipe the slate clean?" Daria said.

Taylor nodded. "As far as I'm concerned, we just met. Does that sound good?"

For just a moment, she wondered if he was crazy, but then a calm acceptance came over her and with it a deep sense of freedom. The burdens of reputation she'd piled up since coming to Lawndale and the newer burdens of pain acquired over the last several months fell away. For a moment, she thought of Eowyn standing on the battlements of Minas Tirith as the shadow fell away from her at last. She smiled.

"Hi, I'm Daria Morgendorffer."

"Hi, I'm Taylor Billings, and I'd like to get to know you."

"I think I'd like that too."

Fin

Author's Note: Well, there it is, after more than a year and a half: the end of "Turnabout Confusion." I'd like the thank Ranger Thorne for the original Iron Chef challenge on which this story was based, and everyone who reviewed this story and gave feedback on or at the PPMB. Thanks for sharing the ride with me. I never would have reached the end without you.

Disclaimer: Daria and all characters are copyright MTV 1997–2002. I own nothing and am merely along for the ride.