Okay, now for something that is set in High School times. Definitely an AU, and another Musical Daria thing.

Standard Disclaimer applies. Daria and friends are the intellectual property of MTV/Viacom or whomever has acquired the rights. This story is a work of fanfiction and nothing-NOTHING-of value was, has, or ever will be exchanged for its creation. No disrespect of the original creators is intended, and this work will be taken down immediately should the owners of these characters request it.

Beat It

Chapt. 1

She flipped on the basement lights and made her way down the stairs. Where the hell was it? She just wanted to find her library book and get the hell out. Maybe she had left it on the old couch- she and Jane had left in a hurry when that epic fight broke out between Max and Nick.

Trent had tried to break it up, and he and Jesse had followed them out of the house to separate them and to try and calm them down. That probably meant that they had gone off to separate bars.

Imagine, a bassist and a drummer that couldn't get along.

It was probably the reason that the Spiral could never really get it together. Trent sounded pretty good when he practiced by himself, but when you threw them all together it somehow just didn't mesh right.

That had all gone down a half hour ago, and not without leaving a black cloud in its wake. Jane had just left for a long run to help de-stress. Who knew when Trent and Jesse would make it back? No matter what happened, they had to deal with cancelling tonight's gig, and maybe figure out what came next. Most likely they'd be gone for hours.

Dammit, there it is. The book was due back today, and she hadn't finished it, which irritated her to no end. She stuffed it into her backpack and was heading back up the stairs when she noticed a low buzzing sound.

Nick had left his amp on. Figures. His bass was standing upright, shoved through the head of Max's big floor tom. What a pair of idiots. A couple of the cymbal stands were knocked over, and stuff was lying everywhere. Trent had mentioned that the drum kit was a cheap one made of mongrel parts that Max didn't really care about; he'd just dragged it over and left it in the basement so he wouldn't have to move his gigging kit in and out every time they practiced. Still, that was no excuse for trying to trash it.

Same deal with the bass amp. It was a beat up piece of crap that Nick had won in a poker game or something, and it lived in the Lane basement. He liked to bitch about how crappy it sounded, although Daria suspected that it had more to do with his lack of talent.

She switched off the amp, nearly tripping on the snare drum on the floor. It looked like they really had tried to kill each other. With a sigh, she began to set things back upright. Aside from the unfortunate floor tom, the rest of the kit was more or less intact.

What was so hard about pounding on a bunch of drums anyway? It always seemed like a good way of releasing stress. You could imagine that you were pounding on Kevin's thick skull. Which one would that be? She picked a stick up off the floor and tapped on a few of the drums. Nah…they all sounded like they had more substance than what was probably between the quarterback's ears. She tried the bass drum pedal- no, that had some authority to it…kinda like Coach Buzzcut, back in Highland, or other people that ordered her around.

She brought the stick down sharply on one of the smaller toms that were mounted on the bass drum. Yup, that's what Beavis's head would sound like if you bounced it off the sidewalk. She reached down to retrieve another stick, and tried the other tom. Butthead.

This was fun.

The high hat had a tinny sizzle that reminded her of Quinn. More so, when you brought the two cymbals together with the foot pedal. Yap, yap, yap. She slapped it with a stick, smiling as she began nodding out a satisfying beat. Yap, yap, yap, shut it, yap, yap, yap, shut it, yap, yap, yap, shut it, Buzzcut, Beavis, yap,/shut it, Buzzcut, Beavis, yap,/shut it, Beavis, Butthead, yap,/ shut it…

The snare sounded like Ms Li.

The big cymbal reminded her of Coach Morris. The tiny annoying one, O'neil.

There was a right way to beat on heads, she smirked. Kick drum, hi hat, snare. They seemed to work together, and you could get into a definite pattern. Years of listening to music had soaked in, and she began to find patterns that sounded good, rhythms that just sustained themselves as you beat on the vacant skulls of morons. She smiled as an image of the Goddess Kali surrounded by empty skulls flashed into her head.

Noticing the cowbell clamped off to Beavis, she gave it a shot. She found Kevin!

An hour later, she was exhausted.

That.

Was.

Fun.

Jane heard the sound of drums coming from the basement as she walked into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water. Early afternoon was not a good time to be out running, but she'd had to get away from everyone for a little while.

So Max came back? Coulda sworn that that was the last we'd ever see of him… sounds like he's gotten better-oops, maybe not. No, wait-funny, that doesn't really sound like him. This drummer can actually hold a beat. Wonder if Trent's auditioning someone... This one sounds like he needs to practice a little more, but still…

She popped open a can of cola and made her way down the basement stairs. Maybe this drummer was cute.

Woah. A broad smile began to spread across Jane's face.

Well, well, well. My Amiga here has some chops!

She hunkered down on the bottom step, amused and fascinated by the sight of the normally quiet Daria wailing away on the drums. Her eyes were closed, and her face intense and set. Her green jacket was thrown onto the sofa, and her t-shirt was beginning to show signs of real effort.

Daria was clearly new at this, and there were some awkward moments. She was freestyling, running on instinct. As Jane sat there in the dark, she was increasingly impressed- Daria was noticeably improving, the longer she played. She was a natural.

Finally the girl began to run out of steam and stopped. Rising from her seat on the bottom stair, Jane began clapping.

"How long were you sitting there?" Daria collapsed onto the couch, accepting the towel that Jane handed her. She was too tired to be mad or embarrassed; the endorphins were still carrying her along.

"Maybe twenty minutes. I went for a good long run and when I came home I heard you in the basement."

"Guess I got carried away. I'd forgotten something downstairs." She gratefully took a drink from the can of soda Jane offered. "Weird day. Hope you at least got a good laugh out of my playing."

Jane laughed, shaking her head in wonder. "Daria, you were damn good. I know what crappy drumming sounds like. I've had to live with the Spiral sound for years, remember? This is the first time I've heard any real talent on drums in this basement."

Daria didn't say anything for a moment.

"It was fun," she finally admitted.

"Wanna jam?"

"Huh?"

Jane got up off the floor and pulled Nick's beater bass out of the floor tom. "What an idiot," she muttered as she checked out the controls. Plugging in, she switched the amp on.

"You know how to play bass?" Daria blurted.

"Sort of. Always liked it, but I never wanted to play with an idiot like Max. I kinda fooled around with this when nobody was around." She tuned up and set the tone the way she liked it- bright and articulate. She didn't like the setup that Nick favored, all muddy and blurry to cover up shitty playing. Nodding out a beat, she tore into a rusty but passable slap bass line, laughing at her own flubs from time to time.

Daria watched her best friend having a good time, and then got back on the drummer's throne. She grinned, nodding along with the beat before she jumped in.

"Eeeew, Daria, what happened to you?" Quinn whined. "You're like all sweaty and stuff."

"Nothing, Sis. Just got some exercise." She was in too good a mood to be nasty to the little princess.

"You?" Quinn rolled her eyes. "As if." She went back to her phone call, totally missing the look that crossed her sister's face.

I was thinking of an E-drum kit, since I'd be able to play with headphones…but an acoustic set would totally piss you off.

She dug out a pair of shorts and a tee, and headed for the shower.

A shower and a sandwich later, Daria was on the internet researching.

The following week brought some interesting changes in the Morgendorffer household.

"You bought your own drums?" Jane leaned against the lockers. She's really getting serious about this. Maybe it's not just a passing interest.

"Yeah, but Mom made me move them into the garage. She got mad when she was trying to work."

"I guess that was to be expected," Jane smirked.

"Yeah. I kind of figured that might happen. Thing is I think the temperature and humidity swings in the garage might be a problem. My drum kit was made in 1970, so I'm a little worried about the wood shells shrinking, warping or cracking."

"You bought an old kit?"

"It's actually collectible. It was made during the last year that the Slingerland family ran the company, before they sold it to a big corporation. If I lose interest I'll be able to recover my cost. If I wait a few years, I'll turn a profit, if I keep it in top shape."

Jane smiled. "You could move it into our basement. Max took all his stuff and went home."

"He officially quit?"

Jane nodded. "Deadwood's gone. Nick quit too. Took his bass but he left that old amp."

Daria frowned. "So the Spiral…"

"Is kinda dead. Trent's really bummed about it. I haven't seen him for a couple of days now. Said something about getting a job if you can believe that."

"The change might do him good. Give him time to think."

"You actually bought a drum kit," Jane said after awhile. "Gonna start a band? I think I know where you might find a guitarist."

Daria almost hurt herself doing a eyeroll. "Right."

"He's not that bad, you know."

"Didn't say he was. He sounds pretty good when he plays by himself." She finished changing out her books and closed her locker. "Look…honestly, I bought those drums because it felt good fooling around on Max's set. It's a great way to vent, and at first I kind of liked the idea that it was gonna piss off Quinn."

"I thought you two were getting along a little better these days."

Daria leaned up against her locker. "I know. Old habit. Now I feel kinda bad about it." After a moment, she sighed. "She actually took my side when mom got mad. I think she actually believes it might be good for me."

"That's kind of a surprise. Quinn might actually understand how cool her big sister really is."

Daria snorted. "I'm not sure I'd go that far. But she did suggest that we just add a little more padding to my room to soundproof it better. She said that the drumming didn't really bother her. She actually said she kind of liked it."

"I was serious about your moving it into our basement. Hey, you and I had fun playing, right? Trent has an old bass in the basement that kind of works."

"I never thought music was your thing. I've never seen you touch a bass before."

Jane nodded. "Music's always been Trent's. I just fooled around with it, when nobody was around. That was before you and I met."

Screw it. Maybe I should sell my amp. It's probably worth some money now… it was old secondhand stuff when I bought it, but now it's 'vintage.'

Trent toweled himself off and thought about getting something to eat. I should see if Janey's hungry. Guess having a regular paycheck's not that bad.

He picked his clothes off the floor and got dressed, hanging his store employee badge onto his doorknob so he'd find it in the morning. Looking around, he gathered up his laundry, and checked Janey's room to see if she had dirty clothes laying around. She wasn't home, but her backpack lay open on her bed, and it looked like she had been doing homework. Probably out hanging with Daria or something.

He called in a pizza order, making sure there would be enough for Janey and Daria if they came back hungry.

After starting the wash, he checked the pantry to see if there was anything besides bread and peanut butter they were getting low on. It was kind of weird at first, but the grocery store was on the way home from work. He'd stop by tomorrow evening.

On the way home from the damn mall. He'd never thought that he'd ever be working for the man, and here he was, doing a regular gig, selling guitars instead of playing them for a living. What a cosmic joke that was.

It was all right. At least he was around the stuff he loved, music. He got to play with the latest gear, all of it made in China these days. Made his piece of crap Fender Bandmaster valuable though, since it was hand wired and had vacuum tubes in it. Most everything these days was full of technology, and he had to study the sales summary sheets in order to figure out what the hell it was he was trying to sell to some kid who only wanted to play covers so he could impress chicks.

Not that the old dudes who sometimes wandered into the store out of a bit of nostalgia were much better. If he had to listen to another badly played Deep Purple riff from the 70's he would scream. Yeah, Smoke on the Water was a cool song, but he was sick of hearing it.

"Doesn't anyone play anything original?" he had groused to Jack, the store manager.

"Dude, most of this stuff is gonna be sold to kids that'll maybe get a shitty band together, play a few parties and then wind up gathering dust in a basement or garage after they leave for college. They get caught up in dreams, until reality comes around and gives them a swift kick up the backside."

Not gonna let that spoil my day. Trent thought about the bottle of No-Doz in his locker, but he figured he had earned a real cup of coffee after that unsolicited reality check.

Maybe Jack didn't mean it that way, but he had kind of just described Mystik Spiral. It was a dream. Or an excuse. Whatever it was, none of them had worked hard enough at it, least of all himself as the de facto leader of the band. But at least they tried to never play covers, unless the gig was a party or something where they had to put out to satisfy whomever was putting out the bucks.

It had been total bullshit, if he were to be brutally honest about it.

He rummaged around in the now-stocked refrigerator and came up with a bottle of beer. Opening it, he carried it to the living room to wait for the pizzas.

He was considering turning in a little early tonight when he heard the front door open, followed by the sound of Janey, Daria and another girl bringing some things into the house. Hollow, thumping sounds that seemed familiar somehow.

They sounded like they were kind of struggling, so he got up and wandered over to help.

He wasn't prepared in the least for the sight of Janey, Daria and her sister Quinn carrying in what appeared to be a set of drum cases.