Chapter Text
Elise glared up at Drake upside down from where she laid on the couch, her right leg propped up by several pillows, her knee wrapped in a brace, foot resting on the armrest of the couch. “Shut your face, Drake Mallard,” she slurred out.
Drake, who was leaning with his arms against the back of the couch looking down at Elise, could not hold back his smirk. “I didn’t say anything,” he said in a sing-song voice.
“That’s why I said shut your face,” Elise hissed. “Your stupid mouth doesn’t have to say anything, your face says everything.”
“Dear,” Zan said in a warning tone, sticking her head out of the kitchen. “Perhaps you should be a bit nicer to the friend who just brought you three different types of ice cream?”
“He’s laughing at me, Zan,” Elise whined. “He only offered to bring us groceries so he could laugh at me! He’s laughing at me in my pitiful state!”
“It was bound to happen eventually,” Drake said, pushing himself back from the couch. “The idiot-minder becoming an idiot herself…”
Elise pushed herself up into a sitting position, though it took a lot of effort as she tried to raise her hand to point at Drake, which made her dizzy so that she nearly lost her balance and quickly put her hand down to steady herself. “I’m not an idiot…” Elise slurred out. “Shouldn’t’ve been given that damn shot anyway… I had everything under control… Not an idiot…”
“You are an idiot,” Zan argued as she came to stand in front of the couch, her arms folded over her chest as she glared down at her wife. “Because only an idiot tries to relive her college athlete glory days in her thirties and gets way over-competitive at a softball game for charity and dislocates her knee while stealing third base.”
“But I successfully stole third base!” Elise said, lifting a finger into the air. “Don’t forget that part, babe! Coulda finished out the run, too, if everyone would have let me…”
Zan arched an eyebrow. “And furthermore,” she continued. “You uttered the words I don’t need to go to the ER, I know what I’m doing, I can pop my knee back into place all by myself .”
“Huh, you know, those words sound awfully familiar…” Launchpad commented, giving Drake a pointed look, remembering the night that they first met Elise and Drake had dislocated his shoulder in a Darkwing Duck related incident. Drake tried, and failed, to look innocent while Gosalyn snorted in laughter from the kitchen as she continued to put away the groceries they had brought to the Schwanz-Owlson household.
“Yeah, but unlike this idiot, I could actually do it!” Elise insisted.
“Yes, and you tried to, on multiple occasions during the car ride,” Zan said flatly. “And, yes, you did need that shot of painkillers because you tried to fix your dislocated knee yourself and screamed in pain every time you tried. And because you kept up your physician heal thyself routine at the ER and forgot that you no longer work there , you were trying to orchestrate your own care. Which your attending doc humored for as long as possible, because he respected you, but even he was starting to get fed up. That’s the main reason you were given that shot, by the way, to get you to shut up for five minutes and let the doctor do his job.”
“I’m still not an idiot!” Elise protested loudly.
“Well, if anyone who ends up in your care basically becomes an idiot by default,” Gosalyn said, walking out of the kitchen. “And if you tried to take care of your knee yourself… Elise, I hate to break it to you, but that means you did become an idiot.”
Elise groaned and threw a throw pillow at Gosalyn, who caught it easily with a laugh. “You shut your face, too, Gosalyn Mallard…”
Zan sighed, closed her eyes, and rubbed the spot above her beak between her eyes wearily. “She’ll be nicer when the pain meds wear off.”
“No, she won’t,” Drake, Launchpad and Gosalyn said in tandem.
“No, I won’t,” Elise said, grinning widely.
Zan sighed and lowered her hand as she reopened her eyes. “Seriously, thank you so much for bringing us groceries. I’ll be able to work from home over the next few days and make sure my idiot wife doesn’t do anything else idiotic while she’s on pain meds and crutches.”
“It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it,” Launchpad said with a solemn nod. “Believe me, I know.”
Drake side-eyed his boyfriend. “Hey…”
“You know Launchpad speaks the truth, Dad,” Gosalyn said.
Half-asleep on the couch, Elise turned on her side to look at Drake, leaning heavily on her elbow—then nearly falling face-first off the couch, and would have done so had there not been four pairs of hands to grab her and right her onto the sofa. Dizzily, Elise looked up at Drake and muttered sleepily,
“I have far more sympathy for my idiots than I ever had before… You in particular… Idiota Numero Uno …”
With that, she closed her eyes and was asleep within a moment.
“At least you’re learning something from this experience,” Zan muttered as she draped a blanket over her snoring wife.
*****
“You know, you should really be proud of yourself, Fenton,” Huey said, attempting to bring a bit of levity to the situation and his friend’s frustration, given that Fenton was currently hitting his head against the surface of his desk. “Uno was already considered highly intelligent and independent for AI, and now…”
“Now he’s trying to unionize,” Gandra said dryly, her arms folded over her chest.
“Who the heck is Uno even going to unionize with?” Fenton asked as he hit his head against the desk a final time, turning his head with his cheek against the surface.
Just in time to watch as Lil Bulb led a parade of other his brethren nearby, all holding up picket signs calling for AI rights. Fenton just groaned and hit his head on the table again as the elevator doors opened.
“Careful,” Gandra called out as Gyro, Natasha, Honker and Newton entered the lab. “Don’t be a scab.”
“A what?” Honker asked, brow furrowing.
“Don’t cross the picket line,” Huey said.
“What picket line?” Gyro asked. Huey and Gandra just pointed at the line of Lil Bulbs while Fenton continued to hit his head against the desk. Gyro hummed and nodded, putting one hand on his nephew’s shoulder and the other on his intern’s. “Ah. I see. Come along, children, this way…”
“Uh, what exactly led to the call for a union?” Natasha asked, eyeing the Lil Bulbs as they carefully avoided the picket line.
“Uno rallied them to the cause,” Fenton answered with a groan. “He’s basically the union president.”
“Uno?” Natasha repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“I am well within my rights,” Uno said over the loudspeakers. “And I have the right to reserve to unionize when my creator asks too much of me.”
“Ooh,” Gyro said, glancing up at the ceiling. “Well, Crackshell-Cabrera, I believe congratulations are in order. You created an AI that can successfully rise up against you.”
“More like he’s trying to get a rise out of me,” Fenton said, sitting upright with a groan, rubbing his temples.
“Aw, Uno, what slave labor is your big, mean, scary inventor trying to force upon you?” Natasha asked, leaning against one of the lab tables.
“Oh, Natasha, finally someone has come to understand my woes,” Uno said. “My creator is attempting to take advantage of my skills and force upon me more tasks that I cannot possibly perform along with my original purpose. I am not even being offered a pizza party in compensation for these additional duties, nor a suitable increase in salary.”
“You don’t get paid!” Fenton shouted, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.
“Exactly. You see the problem.” Uno said smugly.
“Fenton made an upgrade that Uno is refusing to let take effect,” Huey explained. “He keeps blocking the downloading process.”
[What kind of upgrade?] Newton asked.
“Mission Control is, well, out of control,” Fenton explained. “We’ve got a shared calendar, but we’re losing track of important dates, or missing meetings and information because no one is there to answer the phone. We’ve been so busy lately, and we don’t have a way to get organized.”
“Oh, so you need a secretary,” Natasha said with an understanding nod. “And Uno here refuses.”
“I do indeed refuse,” Uno confirmed.
“What about making a second Uno?” Honker suggested. “Take Uno’s original coding but supplement in the upgrade to specifically make a second Uno who can be the secretary?”
“I can hear Donald and Drake ribbing me about Dos now…” Fenton said with a sigh. “But that’s a good idea, Honker.”
“Can’t you all just… you know, hire someone?” Natasha asked. “An actual person to sit around and answer the phone and do stuff for the calendar?”
“The problem is, that means there’s one more person who has to know all the ins and outs of Mission Control,” Fenton said. “Including secret identities.”
“And too many people know as-is, which is why we’ve got a project to get started on,” Gyro said. Suddenly, his brow furrowed and he looked at Huey. “Wait, Red Nephew, why are you here?”
“Uh, I was helping Fenton and Gandra?” Huey said, his own brow furrowing in confusion, which only made Gyro look more confused.
“But shouldn’t you be at the Junior Woodchuck meeting?” Gyro asked.
Huey shook his head. “What Junior Woodchuck meeting?”
“The one Boyd said he was going to and…” Gyro cut himself off, and Newton whipped his head towards his uncle as Gyro said quickly, “Never mind.”
Gyro started to walk away but Newton grabbed hold of the belt-loop of Gyro’s pants, tugging him back. Newton signed very quickly, Gyro frowning and responding in a flurry of signs, the two exchanging a very fast and seemingly agitated conversation in ASL that Huey, Fenton, Gandra, and Honker could only watch go back and forth like a tennis match before finally Natasha huffed and stomped her foot loudly to get the attention of both.
[“Don’t lie to the empath,”] Natasha told Gyro. [“But, cool, we now know Newton can tell when people are lying, even if it’s through ASL.”] She then narrowed her eyes at Gyro and said, [“Now. You tell us what’s wrong.”]
Gyro scowled at his sister, but explained, [“I asked Boyd if he wanted to do his updates tonight. But he told me he couldn’t tonight, because of a Junior Woodchuck meeting.”]
“A meeting that doesn’t exist,” Huey said, frowning. “But why would Boyd lie about something like that?”
[“I don’t know,”] Gyro said, frowning. [“But… this isn’t the first time he’s put it off.”] He shook his head. [“I’ll talk with him about it later. Science now. Everyone back to work.”]
“I refuse,” Uno said contrarily.
Fenton groaned and his head on the desk again.
Suddenly, alarms began to go off, lights flashing around the lab and the Gizmoduck armor ringing.
“I retract my previous statement,” Uno said. “There is a bank robbery in process—and it appears to be by Megavolt.”
*****
Launchpad let himself into the manor, heart pounding. He’d been excitedly on-edge ever since Loopy had texted him that morning, two words sending a jolt through him.
It’s here.
He had felt a smidge of guilt for lying to Drake and Gosalyn about Mr. McD needing him that afternoon, but it was the only way he could think of so that he wasn’t completely lying to them. He did need to go to the manor. Just not for Mr. McD…
“Hey, LP!” Dewey said as he came down the stairs with Webby. “How’s it goin’?”
“Good,” Launchpad said, offering both the teens a fist-bump in greeting. “Seen Loopy around?”
“She should be down in her apartment,” Dewey said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction that led to the apartment in the garage—formerly Launchpad’s, now his sister’s.
“Great, thanks,” Launchpad said, heading in that direction, taking off at a run in his excitement.
Launchpad opened the door and called, “Loops?”
“Yo!” Loopy called back.
Launchpad stepped further into the apartment, looking up at the loft area, Loopy leaning over the railing.
“Hey, Launchpad,” Della called from behind Loopy, a roller in hand as she worked on the wall.
“Where is it?” Launchpad asked. Knowing that he was now in the same room as the package, his mind was in overdrive, he had to get his hands on it…
Loopy laughed. “Patience is a virtue, big bro…”
“Loopdeloop McQuack, tell me where it is.”
Loopy used her paintbrush to point towards the couch. “Coffee table.”
Launchpad rushed over towards the couch, seeing the brown package sitting on the table, covered in stamps, his own name written in big letters on top.
Launchpad sank onto the couch and picked up the box reverently.
I should savor this moment, he thought and then, a second later—moment savored—he tried to tear into the box. But the darn tape just wouldn’t come off!
“Need a knife?”
Launchpad jumped and hugged the box to his chest, looking back and forth between Dewey and Webby who were hanging over the back of the couch on either side of him. Webby held her pocket-knife—fortunately closed—out for him.
“Thanks,” Launchpad said, accepting the knife.
“Whatcha got there?” Dewey asked. “And why’d you have it delivered here, instead of your house?”
“Because he doesn’t want Drake to see it!” Loopy called out as she descended from the loft, Della behind her.
“Ooh, a present?” Webby asked.
Launchpad looked at his friends and said, “A surprise. Can you all keep a secret?”
“I was born to keep secrets, my dude!” Dewey said excitedly, hopping onto the couch beside Launchpad.
Launchpad took a deep breath and opened the box, reaching into the mess of packing peanuts and pulling out a small velvet box.
Webby squealed, her hands to her mouth. “Is that what I think it is?”
Della grinned. “Whoa, LP, are you going to…?”
“Yep,” Launchpad said, opening the box and smiling down at the ring—left to him by his grandfather, which his parents had been holding on to for him until he was ready for it. And he was. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with this ring. “I’m going to ask Drake to marry me.”
Immediately, Launchpad’s phone began to ring. Recognizing the tone as the one used by Uno, he quickly pulled it out, leaping to his feet, eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?” Loopy asked as Launchpad quickly put the ring back into the box and put it into Webby’s lap.
“Quackerjack,” Launchpad said grimly. “He’s leading an army of toy soldiers into City Hall.”
*****
Lena followed Violet into the library, using her magic to carry in an obscenely large amount of books.
“Only what you can carry today, Vi,” Lena said as she dumped the stack on the circulation desk, making the poor clerk behind the desk whimper as Violet fed her own stack into the book drop.
“That is fine,” Violet said, putting in the rest of her books. “This is, after all, the accumulation of several visits over the last weeks.”
“The paternal units really need to put you on a check-out limit,” Lena said as she followed Violet into the stacks.
Violet looked over her shoulder, smiling faintly. “That implies that Dad can contain Papi’s book hoarding as well as mine.”
Lena snorted. Their father was a literature professor, and always seemed to be buying or borrowing books, as well as receiving copies from other academics for review. “True. But eventually the house’s foundation is going to cave. So, what weird subject is your special interest for this library visit?”
“The tales of last week’s Leprechaun invasion at the manor have inspired me towards a Celtic mythology binge this time,” Violet said as she started to pull books off the shelf. “Banshees, Fae, Kelpies, the Baobhan Sith…”
Lena’s brow furrowed as she tilted her head to the side. “Boyd?”
“No, you misheard me,” Violet said. “Baobhan Sith. It is a Scottish vampire of the succubus vari—”
“No, Boyd, as in our friend, is right over there,” Lena said, pointing. Violet paused in pulling books and looked where Lena was pointing. Sure enough, there was Boyd sitting at a table, intensely pouring over a book.
“Let’s go say hi,” Lena said, walking towards the table.
Boyd was so engrossed in what he was reading, he didn’t hear Lena and Violet approach until Violet said,
“Greetings, Boyd.”
“Ah!” Boyd jumped, slamming his book shut and throwing himself over the cover. He blinked and lifted his head slightly at seeing Violet and Lena. Embarrassed and clearly trying to act natural, he forced a smile. “Uh, hi, Lena. Violet. How are you?”
Lena smirked. “Whatcha got there, Boyd?”
“N-nothing!” Boyd said, turning in his seat and pushing the book behind him.
“‘Nothing’ appears to be a book of some sort,” Violet countered.
Lena chuckled and rubbed her hands together, eyes gleaming. “Boyd, what are you reading that you don’t want us to see?”
“I’m not reading anything!” Boyd asserted a little too loudly, quickly whispering, “Sorry!” when he was shushed. He took a breath and said, “I’m not, I wasn’t—ah!”
Lena used her magic to seize the book from behind Boyd, having it hover in the air above him.
“Come on, Lena, give it back!” Boyd groaned, trying to reach for it.
“Nope,” Lena said, taking the book in her hands. She arched an eyebrow at the cover. “Seriously, Boyd? Greygoose’s Anatomy ? That’s what you didn’t want us to know you were reading? A boring book on anatomy?”
Boyd snatched the book out of her hands, holding it to his chest. “It’s rather fascinating, actually.”
Lena arched her eyebrows. “Ooh, focusing on certain parts of that anatomy are we?”
“No!” Boyd hissed, blushing again. “Ew, gross, Lena!”
“Lena, please stop antagonizing our friend,” Violet said. She looked at Boyd with concern. “Why did you not want us to know what you were reading? Why are you trying to hide that you were reading a simple medical book?”
Boyd sighed and put the book on the table, running a finger over the cover. Lena and Violet pulled up chairs across from him, Lena resting her elbows on the table and her chin on her fists.
“So…?” Lena prompted. “What’s the story, Boyd?”
“You can’t tell anyone, especially not my dad, or Clara and Newton, or—”
“I believe everyone you have named so far and would subsequently name are all covered by the use of the word ‘anyone’,” Violet said. “However, Boyd, you are starting to make us very concerned if you are asking us to keep secrets.”
“It’s just…” Boyd hesitated. “Well, I’ve been thinking and…” He took a deep breath and said in a rush, “I want to be a doctor someday!”
Violet and Lena stared at Boyd, who stared back.
“Is… is that it?” Lena asked. “Is that the big secret thing?”
“Yes.” Boyd confirmed with a nod.
“That was anticlimactic.” Violet observed.
Boyd frowned. “You don’t know how hard it was to tell you that!”
“Why?” Lena asked, lowering her arms to the table. “That’s so lame, Boyd. Lots of people want to be doctors and stuff. So why does it have to be something you keep a secret?”
“Is it because of your father’s dislike towards those in the medical profession, and how vocal he is regarding his feelings on the matter?” Violet asked, tilting her head. “He gets along well with Dr. Schwanz even though he has been her patient previously. And you would not be a primary care provider for him anyway, so if you are concerned about—”
“No!” Boyd groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Ugh, you don’t get it.”
“No, but we are trying to,” Lena said. “Help us out here, man.”
Boyd sighed and lifted his head. “I just… I don’t know how to tell my dad that I want to be a doctor. It’s not that I think he’d hate me for it because he hates going to the doctor or anything like that, but… Well, he’s been working on my new body, and it’s going to come with all the same bells and whistles as before, as well as some new ones, and…”
“Are you worried that there are certain expectations of you that come with that new body?” Violet asked. “That could hinder you from achieving your goal?”
“I was built to protect cities,” Boyd said. “Not become a medical professional.”
“So what?” Lena said, leaning her cheek against one hand, elbow on the table. “I was made of Magica de Spell’s shadow to steal the Number One Dime of Scrooge McDuck. You’re not special.”
“Lena!” Violet hissed.
“My point,” Lena said, ignoring her sister. “Is that you can do anything you want. Be anything you want. No one, especially not Gyro, is going to force you to do something you don’t want to do. Do you want to be a hero?”
“Not particularly,” Boyd admitted. “I mean, when I was first created, I did, but—”
“But that was years ago, and you’ve changed since then,” Lena said. “Everyone knows that, and respects that. So man up and tell your dad that you want to be a doctor and don’t do this stupid hiding stuff.”
Boyd frowned and said reluctantly, “Okay.”
Lena nodded and pushed back from the table. “Sweet. Now, come on, let’s take a trip to the lab.”
“Can we make a stop at the circulation desk first?” Violet asked, gathering her books.
“Wait, what?” Boyd said, eyes wide. “You meant, like, right now? Tell my dad right now ?”
“Uh, duh,” Lena said. “No better time than now. What’s the hold-up?”
“I just… I need…” Boyd stammered, but he didn’t have an opportunity to gather his thoughts or give an excuse.
Around them, glass shattered and people began to scream as books began to fly off the shelf—literally, flapping around in the air and hitting people.
“What the—?” Lena exclaimed, then her eyes narrowed. “You!”
Morgana the Sorceress smirked as she floated into the library through the broken windows. “Yes, me.” She lifted her hand and called forth balls of red magic, hurling it at the three children.
*****
“I’ve been thinking,” Clara said before grunting as her gloved fist hit the punching bag. “About what you asked me a couple weeks ago.”
“Oh yeah?” Donald said, looking around the bag as he held it steady for Clara. He didn’t have to ask for a reminder of the conversation she was mentioning, when he had asked her where she wanted to go with her boxing. He had initiated the conversation not expecting an answer right away, and knew that it would be better to let Clara bring it up again without him asking. Donald was interested to see what her answer was.
“And I still don’t have an answer!” Clara said, letting out a sound of frustration as she continued to punch the bag. Then she sighed, resting both fists against the bag, her forehead against her gloves.
Donald moved around the bag, making sure it was still as he got closer to Clara. “Hey, it’s okay to not have an answer yet, to still think on it.”
“I know,” Clara grumbled, lifting her head. “I just… Moving to Duckburg was a fresh start, and a good thing, but it’s a start with too many paths open, and I don’t know which one to take. Which is really frustrating, because if it was something real like that—like the Grotto—I’d know where to go, and how to get where I wanted. But when it comes to figuring out where to go with my life… I’m stuck. And then there’s the whole magic, psychic stuff I’m still trying to wrap my head around. And what good is it to be able to see the future if you don’t know what you should do with your life?”
“Well, think about it this way,” Donald said, moving his hand off of the bag after Clara righted herself. “You see things that are both good and bad. Some things you can tell in the moment which are which. But what if you saw a future for yourself and pursued it, thinking it was good but you didn’t actually want it, but you thought you had to do it because it was your future?”
Clara frowned at him. “I mean, you’ve got a point. It’s just, why was it so easy when I was little to want to be a ballerina and try to become one, and now that it’s no longer my dream, I don’t have something to… to replace it with?”
“You don’t need a new dream to replace an old one right away,” Donald said. “But I know you, Clara, and I know you’ll know when at the right time what your new dream is. For now, you get to keep exploring the world, keep learning new things, keep seeing all of the possibilities.”
“See the angles,” Clara muttered. “That’s the phrase Louie uses.”
“Precisely,” Donald said with a nod. “You’re allowed to have as many dreams as you want.”
“But that’s the thing, I don’t know what I want,” Clara said. “And if a dream is something you want, then I’m really stuck.”
Donald hummed in thought. “Okay, maybe you’re stuck.”
Clara narrowed her eyes. “Uncle Donald, I think you’ve lost the trail of a pep talk. It’s starting to lack pep.”
Donald laughed. “No, hear me out. You’re stuck, but that’s not a bad thing. You see being stuck as an obstacle. What you need to do is see it as an opportunity. Rest. Play. Discover. A lot of the things you’re already doing. The path will become clear when you’re ready and rested for what lies ahead. Now, you ready to take those gloves off, or you want to keep going?”
“Fifteen more minutes?” Clara asked.
Donald grinned and resumed his position behind the bag. “You got it, kiddo. Whenever you’re ready.”
Clara got back into her stance, but as she was lifting her gloved hands, Donald’s phone began to buzz with alarms.
“Hang on,” Donald said, pulling out his phone. His brow furrowed and his expression grim. He looked up at Clara and said, “Ivy Greene has been spotted in the park, trying to turn people into living topiaries!”
Donald took off at a sprint for the elevators, the doors opening and Louie stepping out at the perfect moment.
“Hey, Uncle Don—Whoa!” Louie spun in a circle as Donald flew past him into the elevator, watching in confusion as the doors closed. He turned to look at Clara, tilting his head. “Uh, what just—DON’T HIT ME!”
Louie put his hands up defensively as Clara ran up to him, her hands out.
“Get these gloves off of me!” Clara said, thrusting her hands at her friend. “Then we’ve got to go find the others—Ivy Greene’s shown up!”
Louie’s eyes widened and he rushed to help Clara take off her gloves. “And if Ivy Greene’s wrecking Duckburg again, then the person who broke her out isn’t too far behind.”
Clara nodded her head vigorously as they met each other’s eyes and said together,
“Negaduck!”
*****
Excitement bubbled in Gosalyn as she walked down the sidewalk with her dad. Launchpad had said he needed to help Mr. McDuck with something that afternoon, and Drake had said that he had a special training assignment he wanted to do with Gosalyn. She didn’t know what that special assignment was just yet, but she was ready and eager.
Especially to know why it happened during the day, in their civilian identities.
“Okay, so what are Darkwing Duck and his clever apprentice, Quiverwing Quack, going to do today?” Gosalyn asked. “Are we going to practice tailing bad guys?”
“Nope,” Drake said.
“Scope out the lair of some nefarious villain?”
“I’ll explain all when we get to our destination.”
Gosalyn looked all around her on Main Street. “Are we there yet?”
“Almost.”
“Dad, you’re killing me here! At least drop some hint for me to drool over and gnaw on until you can do your big reveal?”
Drake chuckled as he stopped and said, “We’re here.”
Gosalyn dropped into a fighting stance, eyes gleaming as she looked around…
And saw nothing that gave her any hint as to what the training was about.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Gosalyn said. “What are we doing?”
“Well, I’m waiting for you to stop looking like you’re ready to attack someone,” Drake said, amusement heavy in his voice as he folded his arms over his chest.
Gosalyn sighed and relaxed. “Okay, okay. No attacking lessons today, apparently. So, I’m right, it’s a stealth mission.”
“Technically, you are correct.”
“Technically?”
Drake indicated for Gosalyn to come close and whispered in her ear, “Your assignment for today is in the fine art of keeping information close to your chest.”
“Ooh, a trade secret?” Gosalyn asked in an excited whisper, fists clenched in front of her eagerly.
“One so secret, you can’t let Donald or Fenton, and especially not Launchpad, know.”
That made Gosalyn’s smile falter, her brow furrowed. “Whoa. Can’t even tell Launchpad? What the heck, Dad? That’s not cool. Donald and Fenton, fine, but Launchpad? That may be too much.”
Drake grinned and straightened, resuming a normal speaking voice. “You’ll understand here in a moment. You think you’ve fully taken in your surroundings, but you’re missing something right now. Take another look and see where you are.”
Gosalyn looked around. “Well, we’re on Main Street.”
“We are.”
“And… we’re outside.”
“Yep.”
“There’s shops all around us, and people.”
“Correct.”
Gosalyn frowned and spun in a circle. “There’s a bakery, and a fudge shop, and a jewelry store—”
She paused, realizing that Drake had stopped them right in front of the jewelry store. She turned around, looking at the shop window, then up at Drake.
“We’re at the jewelry store.”
Drake nodded.
Gosalyn turned to him and narrowed her eyes, feeling a pang of disappointment. “Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t a real training assignment?”
“Because you’re clever Quiverwing Quack,” Drake said. “And your real assignment is to help me pick out an engagement ring for Launchpad.”
Gosalyn perked up immediately, eyes widening as she grinned. “You’re going to propose to Launchpad?”
Drake nodded, glancing at the window display. “It’s time. I’ve known I want to marry him for some time now, and… well…” Drake looked at Gosalyn, smiling. “There are only two other times in my life that I’ve felt so certain about something this big. That was becoming Darkwing Duck, and becoming your dad.”
Gosalyn hugged Drake tightly, then grabbed his hand, pulling him to the store. “Well, then what are we still standing around here for? Come on!”
Before they could open the door, a loud, deafening BOOM echoed throughout the city, the ground suddenly shaking beneath them.
Gosalyn and Drake tottered for a moment, trying to regain their balance and reorient themselves as car alarms went off, glass shattered, and people screamed.
Drake scowled at the plume of smoke rising from a nearby street, the scowl becoming a grimace as he heard the echoes of a very familiar laugh.
Negaduck…
“Apparently, this will have to wait a while longer,” he said. “Because things just got dangerous…”