MTV/Daria/Trent and all characters in this fic
are owned by MTV Viacom. I just think entirely
too much about these characters, especially 
Trent. Thus I produce these fics, from which I don't 
profit, rather than the stuff I'm supposed to be
writing, from which I do profit, sometimes.

Thank you to Petrel for the beta-read and 
critique!

This takes place within "The Invitation", season 1.

Beyond Between
by medea42

    There comes a time when a guy knows some things are
over. Like when the ex-girlfriend returns his cat
in a sealed box, or when the pawn shop won't take
a smashed guitar. Trent realized that high school
was over while he was pushing furniture away from
the front door at Casa Lane. Up until the whole
foreclosure attempt, he'd lived in a between-zone:
that phase where a guy still shows up at high school
hang-outs and still sneaks into parties to pick up
easily impressed girls. Looked like he was ready for 
some closure -- like he'd recovered from all that was 
high school. He'd hated the school part, and really 
the other part, too.

	As he settled into a groove with phone tucked
in his ear and his guitar settled on his lap, Trent
felt ready for some high-school free time. Now that
he understood what it was. With his realization that
such a huge part of his life was completely, utterly
over, Trent came to the conclusion it was time for
him to be completely and utterly irresponsible.
Right after he dropped Jane off at that party.

	That and he wanted to figure out why Janey's
friend bugged his brain a little. She'd been a great
help when Jane brought her over, and she was really
funny from what he overheard her say to Jane, but
something bothered him. She reminded him of somebody.
Somebody he didn't like, but didn't hate, either.

       Looked like he had a few hours until Janey needed
him, so he thought he'd practice, first. At least, he 
meant to practice. He was still exhausted from all the 
stuff that went down over keeping the house, and he 
ended up sleeping with his guitar still balanced in his 
hands. And the phone was nestled on his shoulder by his 
ear - oh yeah, he'd called Jesse when he picked up his
guitar, and Jesse put him on hold. The phone clicked.

	"Thanks for holding, man. Sorry that took
so long." Good thing it was Jesse he was holding for.
Trent didn't know what he would have said if he'd
fallen asleep while holding for someone else.

     "I think we were talking about lyrics for a
new song," Trent proposed.

	"Yeah," Jesse agreed.

	"Or was it that music?" when working on songs
for the Spiral, one task often blended into another.
Might be why they never really got it together.

	"Music man, I think we were talking about the
key." Jesse was just learning the formal terms for
music, to go with his almost ancestral-memory style
of playing. He'd throw in words to sound more
professional, and this time he actually hit one.
Or else he actually was starting to understand the
stuff in those music theory books.

	"Mmm. E minor would probably work," Trent
suggested.

	"But minor keys make my hand hurt!" You'd
think he'd complain less about that problem, being
Jesse and all. 

	Jesse's call waiting beeped again, and Trent
dozed.

	The phone clicked, and Jesse said without
preamble, "Monique's back!"

	"Yah!" Trent jumped while still maintaining
the balance on his guitar.

	Jesse sounded hurt. "Hey man, that's not cool.
Monique's our friend."

	"Are we on three-way?" Trent asked.

	"Naw," Jesse lied.

	"Hi Monique," Trent said dryly.

	"Hey!" a female voice greeted him. Didn't
really sound like he remembered, Trent thought.
She sounded...expressive. Like she'd found the
melody and metronome she'd kept buried inside.
Then again, she'd just said hello. Usually she was
like, sarcasm, inhale, sarcasm.

	Monique was a weird chick that used to hang
around him and Jesse in high school. He always
thought she was kind of making fun of him and Jesse -
always using big words and stuff. She used to address
them as Beavis and Butthead, whatever that meant.
Probably like Cheech and Chong or something.

	"So," Trent said conversationally. "You're back.
How long before you go back to school?" 

	Monique had left after high school for the
state university. Trent guessed she was back for
fall break or something.

	"I'm here to stay," said Monique.

	"Uh, what?" Looked like Trent might have
plans for the evening. He glanced at the clock.
Woah. Almost nine hours he'd been doing this whatever
stuff.

	Trent still hadn't decided whether to meet
up with Jesse and Monique by the time his car pulled
up to the gates at that rich neighborhood. 
Jane had shoved Daria into the front between them, 
claiming the back seat was unfit for human contact.
He already felt weird, and her teenage nervousness
was really riding his vibe. Trent struggled to maintain
his relaxed state. Janey was always trying to put
him on the spot, but that was okay. He'd find a way
to leave her alone with the door to door evangelists
next time. All was fair in siblings and rivalry.

	"Thanks for the ride, Trent" his sister said
as he pulled before the gate.

	It was his pleasure to make sure Jane
got around okay. "No problem. I needed a break,
anyway. I've been practicing for ten hours straight."

	Janey wanted to tease him. "Daria, would you
say that sleeping with a guitar in your hands counts
as practicing?"

	Trent noticed Daria shrink in on herself.
Now who did that remind him of? Still room for
a comeback. "As long as you don't drop it."

	He felt weird enough right then without having 
to deal with the rent-a-cop at the entrance; besides, 
the guy would remember him from the time Jesse and he 
flooded his workstation with a keg of beer.
"I'll let you off here. I have a problem dealing with
authority." he explained, mostly for Daria's
benefit. He wished she'd say more so he could figure
out who she reminded him of. 

	"So you don't want to crash?" Jane asked him.
Last year she'd gone with him and Jesse to really
create chaos at several parties back in the Crew
Neck part of Lawndale. The beer in the booth was
only the tip of the iceberg.

	But Trent had had his epiphany just that morning.
"A high school party? Please. Don't you think I'm
a little mature for that?" As of exactly five hours
ago.

	Jane and Daria left the car, and the big brother
within fought Trent's desire for irresponsibility. He
hoped those two would really tear the place apart.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said as he
sped off.

	Trent kept puzzling over who Daria reminded
him of, and drove far enough that he just finished
the trip over to McGrundy's on principle. Why waste
the gas and turn back, anyway. Besides, it was just
Monique. Trent scanned the bar for her -- looked
for the glasses and the short hair, didn't see her.
On his second sweep, he spotted Jesse talking to
a goth goddess. Huh. Trent usually went for the all-black
type, but he'd never grudge Jesse any fun.

	She turned towards him and grinned as he
approached. "Hey Trent. Good to see your skin's
not orange."(1)

	Huh? How would this chick know about his
iodine phase? "Telling stories, Jesse?" he asked.

	Jesse looked confused. "About what?"

	Trent grinned at the woman, taking in her
black hair and style. Looked like Jesse hadn't
finished his pickup, and a little competition between
buds was all fair. "Oh, we like to rip on each other
when we meet interesting women." He winked.

	"As I recall," she said dryly. "You used to
rip up each other, and on once occasion my poetry
notebook in the fray, too."

	Poetry notebook? But that was. Oh. WOAH!
Trent's brain finally got up with his mouth.
"Welcome back, Monique," he said weakly. 


Notes:
(1)In the Daria Database, Trent has a bottle of
iodine under his bed from the "orange skin phase".

Comments:
This goes way back to Trent's first appearance
on the Daria show. I'm working with my own
theories about Trent and his lifestyle (if you
hadn't noticed):
1. He's NOT oblivious
2. He's NOT a narcoleptic
3. He IS nocturnal
4. The guy has much more going on in his life
than that which revolves around Daria and Jane.

and Oh yeah...
5. Monique is not hateful, just present.