Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Duckburg at night was an amazing thing, considering how much chaos occurred during daylight hours. Duckburg at night was when all citizens got a respite, a moment of peace and calm. There was the sound of the water at the bay, of seagulls calling to each other, crickets chirping, a slight hum coming from the lampposts that dotted the streets if you happened to walk past them.

It was well past midnight, creeping into the earliest hours of the morning. Most people were asleep in their beds. So they would not have recognized that, in one area of Duckburg, the hum of the lampposts was slowly fading and replaced with the sound of something being unscrewed.

“Soon, my lovelies,” Whispered the long-nosed rat as he placed a bulb in the bag slung across his body. “Soon, you shall all be free!”

He descended his ladder, preparing to move on to the next lamppost, when suddenly his vision was clouded by thick purple smoke, and an ominous voice called out,

“I am the terror that flaps in the night!”

“What the—?” He said, looking around.

“I am the DVR that cut off the climax of the new episode of your favorite show you recorded.”

The rat growled. “Oh, great. This loser.”

“I AM DARKWING DUCK!” The purple-clad duck proclaimed as he landed on the sidewalk in front of the rat. He stood up, a hand on his hip as he pointed to the rat and said, “And you, perp, are pilfering public property!”

“The name is Electrokinexcelsior!” The rat said, reaching into his belt and whipping an extension cord at Darkwing, who let the cord wrap around his arm.

“Ha!” Darkwing exclaimed. “It’ll take a lot more than a little extension cord take down Darkwing—”

His words were cut off as a violent electric shock went through his body.

“—Duck…” He croaked out, his feathers fluffed out and singed in places.

The rat laughed. “What can I say, I’m a real live wire!”

Darkwing Duck shook himself and frowned, glancing away from the villain. “Electricity villains. They all think they’re so original for using the phrase ‘live wire’.”

“At least I’m not some weirdo that talks to himself!” The rat yelled at Darkwing.

“Excuse you, I’m not talking to myself, I’m breaking the fourth wall!” Darkwing snarked, before punching the rat in the nose.

The rat yelped then started swiping back as Darkwing jumped back a few times.

“Missed me,” Darkwing taunted.

The rat snarled and whipped out what appeared to be two tuning forks. Until they started glowing and sparking, and jabbing at Darkwing’s sides.

Unfortunately for Darkwing, they didn’t have to touch him to shock him.

Darkwing dropped and swiped his leg out, trying to catch the rat behind the knees, then quickly rolled to dodge the electrified tuning forks.

“Hey, Pilot!” Darkwing yelled. “Help would be appreciated right about now!”

“Huh?” Pilot said from where he stood a few feet away, his hand on his chin, watching intently. “Oh, sorry, DW, it’s just… this looks like a real Darkwing Duck episode! Darkwing versus Megavolt! How awesome is that!”

Darkwing sprung to his feet then looked at the rat again. “Huh. You’re right. He does look like Megavolt! How did I not see it? Yellow suit, blue boots and gloves, goggles, weird red hat with electric prongs, red battery strapped to the back, totally Megavolt!”

The rat frowned and paused. “Like who? Who is ‘Megavolt’?”

“You know, Megavolt!” Pilot stressed. He quickly dug out his phone and did a quick image search, showing the rat. “See? You are dressed just like him!”

The rat snarled. “Well, I’m not Megavolt! I’m Electrokinexcelsior! I’m one hundred percent original!”

“Yeah, as original as your use of ‘live wire’,” Darkwing said, putting his arms over his chest. “Seriously, you had no idea about Megavolt when you started this stealing-lightbulbs-thing?”

“No. I’m not into dumb nerd things,” The rat sassed them. “And I am not stealing lightbulbs. I am freeing them from their cruel fate of being slaves to harsh and unappreciative masters! This city doesn’t deserve these beautiful babies! I’m saving them for people who truly appreciate them!”

“You mean you,” Pilot pointed out.

“Of course I mean me!” The rat exclaimed. “No one else in this city is smart enough to recognize their brilliance!”

Pilot blinked and said, “Was that supposed to be a pun, or…?”

“Okay, but,” Darkwing said, starting to gesture to get the point across. “Did you seriously not think this through?”

“Of course I thought this through!” The rat yelled, waving his arms over his head, electricity from the forks crackling. He paused, then said, “But, just so we’re clear, how exactly do you think I didn’t think this through?”

“Okay, so, you steal the lightbulbs. Fine. But the City will just… you know, replace them with new ones,” Darkwing explained. “So you have to steal more.”

“I don’t see the problem with that,” The rat said.

“Okay, except, you will never stop doing it?” Darkwing said. “Because the City will just keep replacing them. Night after night. You’re just ensuring that City maintenance people keep their jobs, and really the worst that happens is taxes get raised to pay for buying more lightbulbs. Seriously. And if you want to be seen as the villain here, well, no, because City Hall and the Mayor will be seen as the villain because of said tax raises. So there is no way you can win. You can fight the City like this, you can fight me, but you can’t win.”

The rat looked… perturbed. “I hadn’t thought about that…”

“Yeah, I figured,” Darkwing said, nodding slightly. “Now come on, let’s get you to the police station and if you come quietly and calmly, I’ll talk them into letting you get away with community service.”

The rat frowned. “Not happening, nerd.”

He saw the puddle that Darkwing was standing right beside, his foot practically touching the rainwater from today’s showers. That puddle ran all the way down towards the rat…

He dropped and touched his forks to the water, electrifying it.

He didn’t stick around to watch Darkwing Duck shoot ten feet in the air, more shocked to be shocked than actually, well, shocked.

“DW!” Pilot exclaimed as Darkwing landed on the ground in an undignified heap.

Darkwing shook his head and jumped to his feet, pointing after the rat. “Quick, he’s getting away!” He grinned and said, “Come on, Pilot, time for us to get dangerous and nab Megavolt!”

And so Darkwing Duck and Pilot took off after the rat, not so secretly gleeful to be living the childhood dream…

*****

Drake and Launchpad were both dragging their feet as they went in through the back door of the Mallard house, making their way to the living room. Gosalyn sat on the floor, the television blaring Saturday morning cartoons, a bowl of cereal in her lap and judging by the empty box of cereal beside her it wasn’t her first.

Gosalyn muted the television and turned around, bringing a spoonful of cereal to her mouth as she asked, “Rough night at the office?”

Drake’s response was to flop face-first onto the couch with a groan.

“Y’know,” Launchpad said as he slid into the armchair, and then nearly slid to the floor. “Catching Megavolt seemed a lot easier on TV.”

Drake just groaned again.

Gosalyn set her bowl on the coffee table and asked, “What happened?”

“Electricity villain,” Drake said, voice muffled by the couch cushion. “Looks like Megavolt. Dresses just like Megavolt. Wants to free lightbulbs, just like Megavolt.”

“Seriously?” Gosalyn said, surprised. “I thought Dad was the only Darkwing Duck cosplayer running around at night.”

“That’s the crazy part,” Launchpad said. “He said he never heard of Megavolt.”

“That’s the crazy part?” Gosalyn repeated flatly, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, that and what he said his name was,” Launchpad said. “Called himself… Electro-king-miser, right?”

“No, no, I think it was Electric-kinder-seltzer,” Drake said, rolling over onto his back with a huge yawn, wiggling a bit to get himself untangled from his cape. “Whatever. It could have been a whole lot worse.”

Despite being as tired as Drake, Launchpad smiled and said, “Don’t you mean, a whole ‘watt’ worse?”

Slowly and with great effort, Drake pushed himself up on to his elbow to narrow his eyes at his boyfriend. “You’re lucky you’re cute…” He flopped back over and told Gosalyn, “We chased him all night. But he disappeared on us.”

“Ouch,” Gosalyn said, wincing. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Its fine,” Drake said as he sat up slowly, stretching. “I let Fenton know all the details. This guy is Gizmoduck’s problem tonight when he tries to continue his one-man ‘free the bulbs’ campaign.”

“Wow, Darkwing Duck willingly hands over a villain for Gizmoduck to capture? I must be dreaming,” Gosalyn said sarcastically.

Ordinarily, Drake would have thought the same situation to be a nightmare.

But today was different.

“Yeah, well, it’s our day off,” Drake said. “And we’ve got company coming.” To Launchpad, he said, “What time are you picking your parents and Loopy up at the airport again?”

“They’re getting in at three,” Launchpad said. “Figured we’d swing by their hotel to get them checked in and drop off the luggage, and be here around four.”

“Perfect,” Drake said with a nod. “I’ll have dinner ready to be served by then. Gos, can you get started on that chore list while we nap?”

“Yeah,” Gosalyn said, nodding. “Though I don’t know why you made a list of chores. You’ve been cleaning the house for, like, two weeks now! It’s practically spotless! I mean, if that’s what the house looks like, it says something about how bad the crime of Duckburg is that it wasn’t all taken care of within two weeks of Darkwing Duck on the scene.”

“Nice attempt of flattery, get cleaning,” Drake said, ruffling her hair. “Wake us up by one in the afternoon.”

“Can’t it be two?” Launchpad asked as he pushed himself out of the armchair reluctantly, but knowing that upstairs a bed awaited. “Or better yet, two-thirty?”

“One o’clock.” Drake repeated, twirling a finger in the air as he headed for the stairs. “No sooner. No later.”

“Got it, Dad,” Gosalyn said. “Good night, Dad. Night, Launchpad.”

“Night, kiddo,” Launchpad said, ruffling her hair as he passed, following Drake up the stairs.

After both changing into clothes more suitable for sleeping, Drake pulled back the covers and Launchpad tossed his pile of clothes on the chair in the corner as he said, “You nervous about tonight?”

“When I meet my boyfriend’s family for the first time?” Drake said, fluffing a pillow. “Oh, yeah, I’m nervous. What if they don’t like me?”

“They’ll love you, and Gos,” Launchpad said, climbing under the sheets. “I’ve told them so much about you two already.”

“Yeah, but you make everyone sound likeable,” Drake said, drawing closed the black-out curtains before he got into bed. “And… I’m kind of nervous. About telling them about the paperwork.”

The day before, Drake and Launchpad had met with Scrooge McDuck’s attorney—the same one who had helped Drake in Gosalyn’s adoption process—and signed papers that declared that, in the unlikely event something should happen to Drake, custody of Gosalyn would go to Launchpad.

They hadn’t told Gosalyn what they were doing yet, and definitely hadn’t told Launchpad’s parents—Birdie and Ripcord—or his younger sister, Loopy. The timing had worked out that the appointment to sign the final papers corresponded with the McQuacks coming into Duckburg for Loopy’s roller derby state finals. Launchpad knew he wanted his family to meet Drake and Gosalyn, and they thought that they might as well tell their news to their family all at the same time.

Launchpad pulled Drake to him, kissed him gently on the head and said, “You worry too much. Everything’s gonna be fine. Just get some sleep…”

Too late. Drake was already snoring.

*****

“Dad! Dad, come on, I need you to wake up! Now! Dad!”

Drake opened one eye and looked past Gosalyn to the alarm clock.

“It’s only quarter after noon,” He groaned. “I said, one o’clock…”

“Yeah, Dad, I know,” Gosalyn said, still tugging on his arm. “But Dad…”

“Gosalyn,” Drake said, closing his eye again, snuggling into Launchpad, who still had an arm around him. “Are you bleeding?”

“No.”

“Anything broken?”

“No.”

“Is something on fire?”

“No.”

“Is Duckburg being invaded by aliens again? Or… I don’t know, there’s an army of vampires?”

“It’s the middle of the day, Dad. It can’t be vampires. Geez.”

“Then what, exactly, is so important that you need me awake now?”

“Well,” Gosalyn said with a huff. “To begin with, your parents are at the front door.”

That woke Drake up in an instant, bolting out of Launchpad’s grasp.

“THEY’RE WHAT?”

“Whuzgoinon?” Launchpad aske sleepily as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

Drake jumped out of the bed, stormed past Gosalyn and stomped down the stairs. Teeth gritted, he threw open the front door to face the last two people he wished to see.

“Hi, Drakey!” Maggie Mallard cooed.

“Hello, son,” Saxon Mallard said, his chest puffed out. He frowned. “Really, Drake, you look like you just rolled out of bed. Don’t you know that it’s past noon on a beautiful Saturday?”

To his credit, Drake didn’t slam the door in their faces. But he was sure that his fingers were going to leave dents in the wood by how hard he was grabbing it.

“What,” He growled. “Are you doing here?”

“We came to visit, obviously,” Maggie said, striding into Drake’s house without invitation.

“A ‘visit’ implies that you told that person that you were coming in advance,” Drake said in a tight voice. “A ‘visit’ implies that it was preceded by a call. An e-mail. A letter. A text. Smoke signals. Carrier pigeon. Morse code. Anything except showing up on someone’s front porch unannounced.”

“We did call,” Saxony said. “Two hours ago. We left a voicemail and everything. Really, you should have answered your phone, Drake.”

Drake tiredly ran his hand over his face, narrowing his eyes at his father. “One, I worked a night shift last night. I didn’t get home until nearly eight this morning. Today is my day off. Ergo, my phone was off. Two, leaving a voicemail does not count as either communication or invitation.”

“Oh, but we were in the neighborhood, and we just couldn’t leave without saying hi to our darling granddaughter!” Maggie declared. She turned and held her arms out towards Gosalyn, who was on her knees at the top of the landing, her face between the railings, Launchpad standing behind her. “Come down here and give Grandma a hug, sweetie!”

“No thanks,” Gosalyn called back. “I’m happy being out of the blast zone.”

Drake huffed as he saw out of the corner of his eye his father scrutinizing everything in the house, looking for something to criticize. “Okay. You’ve said hi to Gosalyn. Now you can say bye to Gosalyn. Because today is really not a good day for you to be here. We’re expecting company—actually invited company—in just a little while, and I still have to fix dinner.”

“Drakey, please, we just want to get to know our granddaughter!” Maggie exclaimed, looking and sounding heartbroken. “You’ve been hiding her from us, never bringing her to visit.”

“There’s a good reason for that,” Drake pointed out. “Like, ten years of not visiting before that?”

“We had hoped that you turning over this new leaf and accepting responsibility as a parent would help you see the light, that everything we ever did was for you and your benefit,” Saxony said. “That you’d come to your mother and I once more, so that we could resume being a family. At least let us know that all of our years of worrying about your welfare are finally over.”

Drake hated how his father did that. How he so smoothly lied as easily as any other politician, how he could sell snake oil by the gallon, how sincere he sounded all the while. It was kept him in office.

Especially when Drake knew the truth.

A few weeks before, an impromptu trip to St. Canard as Darkwing Duck led to Drake unexpectedly reconnecting with his older brother. Campbell had warned Drake that Saxony and Maggie—who had initially attempted to adopt Gosalyn only days before Drake had—were going to try to find any reason they could to have Gosalyn removed from Drake’s custody and into theirs. That was one of the reasons that Drake and Launchpad began the process to declare Launchpad as Gosalyn’s legal guardian in case something happened to Drake.

So Drake was angry. He was furious. And he was vengeful, pettily so.

“Fine,” Drake said, his voice full of a calm he did not feel. “Fine. Okay. You’re right. You should know Gosalyn. You know what, how about you stay for dinner, too? In fact, I insist.”

“Oh, we’d love to, but we couldn’t possibly intrude, with your other company…” Maggie said.

“Oh, I think Launchpad’s parents and sister would just love to meet you both,” Drake said, a smile on his face. “As you said, we’re family. And I include my boyfriend’s family in that sense.”

He saw the flash of annoyance that crossed his parents’ eyes, but only for a moment. He knew how hypocritical they were.

It wasn’t the words he used, twisting Saxony’s words ever so slightly.

No, it was the reference to the boyfriend. Because Mayor Saxony and First Lady Maggie Mallard would profess to anyone who would listen that they were proud allies.

Allies to anyone who wasn’t one of their own children.

“Well, then,” Saxony said, a bit stiffly. “We accept the invitation.”

“It’s settled then,” Drake said with an airy wave of his hand, heading up the stairs. “I’m going to go get dressed now. Gosalyn, sweetie, how about you give your grandparents a tour of the house?”

“Uh, sure, Dad,” Gosalyn said, cautiously standing up. At the top of the landing, Drake put his hand on her shoulder and whispered, “End in the kitchen.”

Gosalyn looked confused, but nodded.

Drake went into his room, Launchpad closely following. Drake went to find a clean shirt and Launchpad quickly made the bed as he said, “Drake? Uh, are you sure that this is a good idea?”

“It’s probably a horrible idea,” Drake admitted. “But I know what they’re up to. I’ve taken steps to prevent them from meeting their goals. They may have surprised me, but I’m going to retake control.”

“How, exactly?” Launchpad asked nervously as he fluffed a pillow.

“First, I’ll let them have what they want, a visit with Gosalyn, but in the kitchen, where I can watch and hear everything,” Drake said. “Second, if I did make them leave today, they’d just insist on coming back and further bugging me, or suggest I take Gosalyn to St. Canard. They’d just continue to play the victim and paint me as the bad guy in the situation to everyone else. And third, they’ll learn tonight—along with your parents, Gos and Loopy—about what we’ve done. That should make them realize that they have failed, and have no reason to come back. Plus, they wouldn’t dare make a scene in front of strangers. They value their reputations and appearances for that.” Drake finished buttoning his shirt then sighed. “I don’t want them anywhere near Gosalyn. Not in the long run. But this is my house. This is my family. Heck, this is my city. I will make them regret coming here and messing with it. And with luck I’ll never have to deal with them again after tonight.”

Launchpad came over and wrapped his arms around Drake. “It’ll be okay.”

Drake thumped his head against Launchpad’s broad chest. “I sure hope so…”

Chapter Text

Drake could admit, this “visit” wasn’t as much of a dumpster fire as it could have been.

At least, it wasn’t by the time Launchpad left to head to the airport.

Gosalyn’s house tour ended in the kitchen as Drake started to prepare for dinner, and he kindly offered his “guests” tea and coffee, which was accepted. Despite his mother’s best efforts to suggest that they move to the living room, Gosalyn played dutiful, obedient daughter as she said sweetly, “Oh, house rule. No food or drink outside of the kitchen and dining room.”

Drake didn’t always appreciate Gosalyn’s tendency to bend the truth. But he was glad she had picked up on his hints to stay in his sight while her grandparents visited.

That, or she felt just as uncomfortable about this as Drake did. Which made Drake feel guilty about not fighting for them to leave.

“Oh, but surely your father would make an exception…” Maggie said.

But Gosalyn simply shook her head and said, “Dad’s rules are tough but fair. Besides, this way Dad gets to visit, too, while he gets dinner ready.”

Drake listened, mostly, as Gosalyn was asked about school and living in Duckburg.

“Don’t you miss St. Canard?” Saxony asked, perhaps a bit pointedly.

“Sometimes,” Gosalyn admitted. “But I love Duckburg. I’ve got Dad and Launchpad, and my friends, and sometimes I get to go on adventures with them. Or adventures come to us.”

“What, exactly, does that mean?” Maggie asked, looking and sounding confused and concerned.

“Well, you know what they say,” Drake said casually as he finished putting together the salad. “Life is like a hurricane here in Duckburg.”

“That doesn’t answer my question…” Maggie said.

“It means sleep-overs get weird,” Gosalyn spoke up. “Last time we had a sleep-over, Huey—”

“Huey?” Saxony interrupted. “Odd name for a girl.”

“That’s because Huey’s a boy,” Gosalyn said with a shrug. “Anyway, Huey found this old—”

But it was too late, Saxony and Maggie had both whirled on Drake with a scandalized look.

“You let Gosalyn go to sleep-overs with a boy?” Maggie exclaimed, her hand to her chest.

Drake sighed and adjusted the timer for the tuna casserole he put in the oven. “Yes. The kids are all supervised in the house by the boys’ mom, uncle, and great-uncle, as well as the great-uncle’s housekeeper—whose granddaughter is also one of Gos’s friends.”

“And Duckworth, don’t forget Duckworth,” Gosalyn added. To Maggie and Saxony, she said, “He’s the butler. And a ghost. Ghost butler.”

“Right. And Duckworth. Sorry, the family dynamic needs a chart to keep track of everyone.” Drake said. “Trust me, nothing is happening at the sleep-overs except a lot of sugar consumption, sleeping, and the occasional monster movie.”

Maggie and Saxony both gave Drake a look that said that they were seriously questioning his parenting decisions. And he could see the gleam in their eyes. They had found something to use to their advantage.

“Well,” Maggie said with a small huff. “It sounds like you have… unconventional friends.” She side-eyed Drake heavily as she said under her breath, just loud enough to know that Drake heard her, “To go with Drake’s unconventional lifestyle.”

Boy, was there some irony in that observation…

“My friends are the coolest,” Gosalyn said, a bit defensively.

“So long as they aren’t bad influences,” Saxony said a bit airily, which meant he totally thought that Gosalyn’s friends were bad influences and Drake was a bad parent for letting her hang out with bad kids. “How exactly did you meet your friends? At school?”

“I knew them before I started school here,” Gosalyn said. “I met everyone when I came to Duckburg for the first time.”

“When you first moved here?” Maggie asked for clarification.

“No,” Gosalyn said, shaking her head. “When Darkwing Duck brought me here to protect me from Taurus Bulba.”

“Hmph,” Saxony said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. “Didn’t do a good job of that, now did he? All things considered…”

Gosalyn flinched and Drake grit his teeth, his hands curling into fists.

He still had nightmares about Bulba’s cronies taking Gosalyn right out from under his nose. He knew Gosalyn still had nightmares about Darkwing Duck being shot at by Bulba, of being dropped from the top of the Money Bin, of watching Bulba’s airship explode with Darkwing on it.

This was salt in the still rather fresh wounds.

But he couldn’t even defend himself, or rather his alter ego, because he did still blame himself for everything that happened, for every bit of Gosalyn’s trauma and his own. He couldn’t stop thinking that if he had just stayed in the McDuck Manor with her, if he had been a better superhero, if, if, if…

“Darkwing Duck,” Gosalyn said softly. “Is a great hero.”

Saxony scoffed. “That buffoon? I understand you may feel indebted to him, Gosalyn, but don’t let the cheap costume and comic book antics fool you. He’s no hero.”

That…

That hurt more than it should have.

Drake turned away to find something, anything, to mess with on the counter. Something to clean or put away or fiddle with.

Anything to hide the pain.

Why did his dad’s words still hold so much power over him, after all this time?

“Darkwing Duck,” Gosalyn said, slightly louder this time. “Is my hero. And that’s what matters.”

Drake felt his shoulders slump at that and he took a deep breath. He glanced over his shoulder and met Gosalyn’s gaze, giving her a faint smile.

“Yes, but perhaps you need a… different type of hero,” Maggie said. “A proper, upstanding hero. Someone you can aspire to be.”

“Like Darkwing Duck?” Gosalyn suggested innocently. Way too innocently…

“More like a role-model,” Maggie said, a bit stiffly even as she tried to ooze charm. “A grown-up woman in your life. It sounds like you have too much testosterone in your life. Drakey, dear, how do you expect this darling little girl to grow up to be a strong woman when she is surrounded by men?”

“She is not surrounded by men,” Drake said, resisting the urge to heave a sigh. “And let me guess, you think you know the exact kind of women that Gosalyn should be around?”

“She’d benefit so much by attending the St. Canard’s Women’s Club with me,” Maggie said. “So many influential women, you know. We meet once a month, surely it wouldn’t be a—”

The rest of her sentence was drowned out by the sound of a cat yowling, garbage cans falling over, and the all-consuming sound of a crash got everyone’s attention.

“What was that?” Saxony asked, horrified.

“Launchpad’s back!” Gosalyn exclaimed, pushing away from the table to run to the front door.

Drake took off his apron and followed her, arriving just as Gosalyn opened the door, welcoming the McQuacks.

“Hi!” Gosalyn greeted excitedly, bouncing on her toes.

“You must be Gosalyn!” Said a middle-aged female duck with Launchpad’s eyes behind a pair of rhinestone glasses, dressed in a dark pink flight suit. She had a kind, warm smile as she said, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, dear! My name is Birdie.”

“And I’m Ripcord,” Said a tall, broad male duck about Birdie’s age, who looked like an older version of Launchpad, bomber jacket and everything. He knelt down and offered Gosalyn a hand for a high-five. “Nice to meet you, sport! Launchpad’s told us a lot about you! I hear you’re something fierce with a hockey stick. Thirteen goals in eight games with five assists, right?”

“Yep!” Gosalyn said proudly. “So far, at least!”

“And that you’ve already broken the record for most time in the penalty box, which, let me tell you, is goals,” Said a female duck only a few years younger than Drake, popping a bubble with her gum as she entered the house, Launchpad closing the door behind them. She was… Well, the only word coming to mind to define her was ‘cool’. She had her hair dyed hot pink with an undercut, and she wore a short denim skirt and combat boots, silver rings that glinted in her eyebrow, her crop-top slightly frayed and hanging off one shoulder. The top declared that the future was female.

Drake couldn’t hide his grin when he saw stars in Gosalyn’s eyes, knowing she had instantly found a new idol.

The woman popped her gum again and offered a fist out to Gosalyn to bump as she said, “I’m Loopdeloop. Call me Loopy.”

Gosalyn grinned widely and bumped her fist to Loopy’s. “I’m Gosalyn!”

“Nice to finally put a face with a name,” Loopy said.

“Mom, Dad, Loopy,” Launchpad said as he wrapped an arm around Drake’s shoulders. “I want you to meet Drake.”

“Hi,” Drake said with a wave.

“Drake, thank you for having us in your home!” Birdie said, coming forward to shake his hand. “Such a lovely home… And, oh, can I hug you? I really want to hug you.”

“Uh, sure?” Drake said, a bit surprised but also not. Launchpad was a hugger, he shouldn’t be surprised that this is where he got it from.

Birdie embraced him, then put her hands on his shoulders and said, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that. You are something special to my boy, let me tell you, he can’t stop talking about how wonderful you are!”

“Aw, Mom,” Launchpad said, though he was grinning, not a hint of embarrassment though Drake felt his own cheeks flare red.

“Ah, thanks?” Drake said. He cleared his throat and said, “Uh, let me introduce you to my parents…”

Saxony and Maggie were introduced, though they kept their distance, and a wall of ice all but physically stood between the senior Mallards and the McQuacks.

Ripcord either took no notice of this or did not care as he jovially slapped Saxony on the back and said proudly, “You raised a fine young man, you know? Couldn’t imagine anyone better for my son, from all the good things I’ve heard about ‘im.”

“Oh, er, well,” Saxony said, trying to regain his dignity after nearly being sent to the floor with what Ripcord probably thought was a gentle pat on the back. “It wasn’t easy, you know?”

Drake growled under his breath and Launchpad gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“How was your flight?” Maggie asked Birdie.

“Oh, you know,” Birdie said with a shrug and a smile. “A little turbulence, a bit of difficulty with the brakes, and yet the worst part with the short distance between Duckburg and New Quackmore is always that you can only get in so many barrel-rolls before you get close enough to another airport.”

“Uh, what airline were you on, exactly?” Maggie asked, looking horrified but trying not to let it creep into her voice.

Ripcord laughed and declared, “McQuacks don’t fly commercial! We flew our own planes!”

“Planes?” Saxony repeated. “Plural?”

“Yessiree!” Ripcord said, puffing out his chest. “Can’t be The Flying McQuacks if we don’t each have our own plane!”

The timer in the kitchen started ringing and Drake made his way towards the oven, saying, “Dinner’s ready!”

“Awesome,” Loopy said. “Smells good, D-man.”

“Thanks,” Drake said. “Launchpad, Gosalyn, can you two help me get everything to the dining room?”

“Sure!” Launchpad said, he and Gosalyn following him into the kitchen.

“Hey, Dad?” Gosalyn said as Drake pulled the casserole out of the oven.

“Hmm?” Drake hummed slightly, setting the casserole on top of the stove to cool for a moment.

“You know I meant it, right?” She asked, her voice low as she came to stand beside him, the bowl of salad in her arms. “About Darkwing Duck?”

“Yeah,” Drake said, pulling her to him for a side-hug. “I know, squirt. You’re the reason that buffoon runs around in a modestly-priced costume every night. Keeping crime off the streets of Duckburg to make it a better world for you to grow up in.”

Gosalyn grinned and said, “But I also meant the other part.”

Before Drake could question that, she left the kitchen.

Gosalyn, Darkwing Duck?

Drake wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“You okay?” Launchpad asked as he came back in from delivering the bread to the table. “It wasn’t too bad after I left, right?”

“Nothing I didn’t expect,” Drake admitted. “I’m okay, though.”

He was going to have to be. He put himself into this mess…

“I filled my folks and Loopy in on the situation,” Launchpad told him as he grabbed the water pitchers. “Kind of as a heads-up.”

“My parents do need a warning label,” Drake said, putting the oven mitts on again to seize the casserole again. “One with a skull and cross-bones. Shall we?”

Dinner was served, and conversation resumed.

“So, uh, Ripcord,” Saxony said. “What, exactly, is it that you do with this… Flying McQuacks?”

“We’re stunt pilots,” Ripcord explained enthusiastically. “We fly all around the world with our planes and do airshows! It’s been the family business so long as there have been airplanes! The Warbler Brothers may have invented planes, but it’s the McQuacks who perfected the use of ‘em! Why, my five-times great-grandfather was one of the first test pilots for the Warblers! McQuacks have been flying ‘em ever since!”

 “And so long as the wheel has been invented, there’s been McQuack’s crashing things,” Loopy added with a grin.

“So we, uh, observed upon your arrival,” Saxony said stiffly. “It’s nice to see children following in the footsteps of their parents, though. Parents know what’s best for their children’s futures, after all, no matter what cockamamie ideas they may come up with on their own.”

Drake thunked his glass of water on the table a bit sharply in response to the pointed and barbed comment.

“Well, we actually encourage the newer generations to find their own footing in the world in addition to The Flying McQuacks,” Birdie explained. “Something outside of the family business, a way for them to find themselves. For Launchpad, that was coming here to Duckburg. And for Loopy, that was attending the New Quackmore Institute.”

“The New Quackmore Institute for Math and Science?” Saxony said, unable to keep surprise out of his voice as he glanced across the table at Loopy.

“Yeah,” Loopy said casually as she plucked a crouton off her salad and popped it in her mouth with a crunch. “No big deal.”

“Loopy graduated third in her class for undergrad,” Launchpad said, clearly proud of his younger sister. “And first for her Master’s.”

“You have a Master’s degree?” Maggie said, also looking surprised.

“Yep,” Loopy said, not sounding fazed at all as she speared a tomato with her fork. “Engineering. I design—and test pilot—airplanes.”

“Ever since she was a little girl, she was just as interested in figuring out how planes work as she was in keeping them in the air herself,” Birdie said with a wistful sigh.

“Loopy’s the best at putting planes back together, let me tell you,” Launchpad said with a wave of his hand. “And we gave her plenty of practice.”

“Eh, a crashed plane is just like a jigsaw puzzle,” Loopy said with a shrug. “Find what looks like it should stick it together, then apply bubblegum and force to make it stick when it doesn’t want to. Easy.”

Saxony and Maggie both blanched, and their eyes said that they had both quickly determined to never get into a plane with any of the McQuacks.

Drake on the other hand made a mental note to ask Della Duck to make sure that the Thunderquack was bubblegum-repair-job free. Or perhaps he was better off being ignorant on that matter…

But perhaps doing jigsaw puzzles with Loopy was something he should take off the table entirely.

“And, uh, it doesn’t bother you that your kids aren’t as involved in the family business anymore, Ripcord?” Saxony asked as he cleared his throat.

“The family business will always be there,” Ripcord said, gazing fondly at his kids. “Because that’s what we are: a family. We’re always there for each other. Besides, it makes the shows that they do participate in much more memorable and fun. Right now, my sister’s son—Spinny Boi—is doing a lot of the shows with us. So it’s still a family business.”

“And is that what has brought you to Duckburg? One of these shows?” Maggie asked, clearly looking for a change of topic.

“We’ve been hoping to visit Launchpad—as well as Drake and Gosalyn—here in Duckburg for a while,” Birdie explained. “When we learned that Loopy’s quarterfinals would be held in Duckburg, everything seemed to fall into place.”

“Quarterfinals for, what, exactly?” Maggie asked.

“Roller derby,” Loopy answered. “I’m captain of the Soaring Swans, representing New Quackmore at the state quarterfinals.”

“How exactly does roller derby work?” Gosalyn asked. “Launchpad told me it was kind of like hockey on roller skates but without a puck or sticks, and that you could explain it better.”

“Okay, so,” Loopy said, looking eager to talk about her sport of choice. “Roller derby is a lot like hockey in that it’s on skates and is a full contact sport, but uses a lot less padding. But instead of a rink or playing field, we use a track like runners, because it’s also more like a race. Each team will have five members on the track at a time, three blockers, one jammer, and a pivot. The jammer—who has a star on her helmet—is the one who tries to score points for the team. After she passes by the herd the first time, she can earn points by passing the other team’s blockers.

“Blockers, on the other hand, try to physically prevent the other team’s jammer from scoring points while also helping their team’s jammer get through to score. It’s both an offensive and defensive position, and uses the hips and shoulders as ways to stall jammers and other blockers. If a jammer can get past all four blockers, then she earns four points, or a grand slam. She can even get a fifth point if she passes the other team’s jammer. Then there’s the pivot. As pivot, the player starts the jam as a blocker, but can become the jammer if the helmet cover is handed over correctly from the starting jammer to the pivot. They don’t always use this tactic, but the pivot is usually the last line of defense. I’m the pivot for our team.”

“Keen gear!” Gosalyn exclaimed. “This sounds awesome!”

“It totally is!” Loopy said with a grin. “You’re coming tomorrow, right?”

“Oh yeah!” Gosalyn said, nodding. “I can’t wait!”

“Oh, my,” Maggie said, her hand going for her pearls. “Er, this sounds like a very… dangerous and violent sport for such a delicate young lady.”

“It’s no more dangerous or violent than some other sports. While we show off a lot of our injuries and take pride in them, we’re also heavily invested in safety, for ourselves and for our opponents. So it’s a lot safer than a lot of people think,” Loopy said. “Plus, it’s incredibly empowering for girls. The sport is predominately female, after all. Incredibly diverse, too. In fact, it will expose her to a multitude of strong women. I have met so many women from different walks of life doing roller derby.”

“Yes, it’s just… should a child such as Gosalyn really be exposed to such a display of violence at the same time?” Maggie countered. “Think of her psyche, how it will impact her.”

Loopy tilted her head and then leaned back in her chair casually. “Have you ever seen a roller derby jam, Mrs. Mallard? Either in person or on video? Even a dramatized version in a movie or TV show?”

“No, but I am well aware of the premise,” Maggie said aloofly.

“Well, I ask you to experience it,” Loopy said simply. She pulled from her pocket two tickets and extended them towards the senior Mallards, who glanced at them warily. “I’ve got two extra tickets for tomorrow night’s jams. How about you come and see for yourself what roller derby is all about?”

Drake watched as his parents glanced at each other, attempting to silently figure out how to get out of this challenge. He could hardly imagine his uptight and proper parents being so far out of their comfort zone. He had to duck his head to hide the amused smile at the thought. He knew they would never say yes, so he regretted that he’d never see it.

“Yeah, you should totally come, Grandma and Grandpa,” Gosalyn said. “It’ll be fun family time!”

It did not escape Drake’s notice that this was the first time she referred to them as her grandparents—and knew that was intentional on her part.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought Saxony and Maggie Mallard at a roller derby jam would be entertaining.

Or, better yet, discourage further ‘fun family time’ outings with the extended family.

Drake pretended that he didn’t see the frantic look he was being shot across the table before Maggie conceded, “Well, then… how could we turn down such a… intriguing invitation? Thank you, er, Loopy.”

“You’ll have a lovely time,” Birdie said cheerfully. “You always meet the most interesting types of people at jams!”

“Speaking of meeting people,” Saxony said, conveniently leaving out the ‘interesting’ part of Birdie’s statement. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard the story of how Drake and Launchpad met Gosalyn.”

This story has two versions: the official version, and the what-really-happened director’s cut edition.

Given the audience, they stuck with the official version.

“When Darkwing Duck brought Gosalyn to Duckburg to protect her from Taurus Bulba, he brought Gos to Mr. McD,” Launchpad said, then—seeing the questioning looks on Maggie and Saxony’s faces—quickly added, “Scrooge McDuck, that is. He’s our boss.”

“We both work for McDuck Enterprises,” Drake further elaborated. “Launchpad as Mr. McDuck’s personal diver and pilot.”

“And Drake’s in security,” Launchpad declared proudly. This was technically true, as it was what Scrooge listed Drake and Fenton’s jobs as for the finance department. Just very few knew that it was security for all of Duckburg, not just McDuck Enterprises operations. “Finest security ever seen.” He caught Drake’s eye out of the corner of his own eye and added, “Even better than Gizmoduck.”

“He exaggerates,” Drake said casually, though the ego boost was very much appreciated—Launchpad was always sincere. “But Mr. McDuck asked for me to be involved, and that led to meeting Gosalyn.”

“We bonded right away!” Gosalyn added, though Drake very much remembered the punches she had thrown to his gut and beak that said otherwise. “I knew I wanted Dad to adopt me. Well, that and for him and Launchpad to stop doing the clearly-pining thing that was so not working for them.”

This led to some laughter from around the table, some a bit more forced than the rest.

“We had only seen each other a few times before, so spending time together because of Gosalyn was the push we didn’t know we needed,” Launchpad said. “So you could kind of say that Gosalyn is the reason we’re together…”

“I do,” Gosalyn said, smirking slightly. “I take full credit for it.”

“Right on, girlfriend,” Loopy said with a laugh as she held out her fist for Gosalyn to bump.

“And so here we are,” Drake said, concluding the story knowing that it had some major gaps. “Seems crazy, that the reason we’re a family is because of some madman.”

Saxony scoffed. “I can’t tell if you’re referring to Taurus Bulba or Darkwing Duck.” He grabbed the water pitcher and refilled his glass, saying, “Security, eh? Not something I’d ever have imagined for you, Drake, but certainly leagues better than that ridiculous tear you went on trying to become an actor. Glad you finally put aside that foolish childhood ambition and sought out something practical.”

Ridiculous tear. Foolish childhood ambition.

Nice way to summarize the dream he had worked for years to achieve and when it finally looked like it was all about to pay off, it—literally—burned to a crisp around you as the one person who sparked said dream try to kill you with a chainsaw.

Drake felt Launchpad take his hand under the table and give it a gentle comforting squeeze.

“Yes, well, I found something I’m equally passionate about, and it just happened to lead me directly towards the two people I love most in my life,” Drake said, squeezing Launchpad’s hand in return. He met Launchpad’s eyes and asked, “Should we tell them?”

“I’m ready if you are,” Launchpad told him.

“Tell us what?” Birdie asked.

“Well, they can’t be getting married, because there’s no way Launchpad would have been able to keep quiet about it this long,” Loopy said, lacing her fingers together and leaning her elbows on the table.

“And Dad would do it in some big flashy way so that everyone in Callisota would know,” Gosalyn added.

“No, we’re not engaged, yet, at least,” Drake said. He took a deep breath and said, “However, we did do something that is… somewhat of a commitment. If not to ourselves, then to Gosalyn.”

Gosalyn looked surprised at the mention of her name. “Huh?”

“Gosaroonie,” Launchpad said as seriously as he could with as ridiculous of a nickname he just spouted, “You know I love you, just as much as your dad does, right?”

“Of course,” Gosalyn said with a nod, then looked suspicious. “Why?”

“Well, if something were to happen to me, we wanted to make sure you’d be okay,” Drake said. “That you’d always have a home and a family. Or if something happened to you and I couldn’t get to you right away, someone would be there for you. That’s why Launchpad and I got paperwork filled out so that Launchpad could be your legal guardian.”

Gosalyn’s eyes widened and she looked back and forth between them. “For real?”

“For real,” Launchpad said, nodding.

“What?” Saxony and Maggie said together, flatly.

Gosalyn suddenly looked excited. “Keen gear! Double Dads!”

 “Kind of,” Drake said. “It’ll make it easier if we decide to have Launchpad adopt you down the road, but for now it basically means that Launchpad can be a parent substitute if needed.”

“What?” Saxony said again, his voice raised a bit as his knuckles went white around his fork.

“Yeah, which means right now I still have double dad power whenever I need it!” Gosalyn said. She looked at Launchpad and asked, “Does this mean you could pull me out of school for any reason?”

“Any good reason,” Drake quickly said.

“Going to ride roller coasters until we puke is a good reason,” Gosalyn said.

“I like how this girl thinks,” Loopy said.

“Wait, we can do that?” Launchpad said, looking between Drake and Gosalyn, the former of whom was fervently shaking his head no and the latter who was enthusiastically nodding her head yes with her thumbs up.

“Quite a responsibility, son,” Ripcord said, putting his hand on Launchpad’s shoulder. “I’m proud of ya. You’ll do great.”

“Saxony…” Maggie said a bit frantically as she grabbed her husband’s arm.

Saxony stood up and opened his mouth…

Right as a loud crashing sound could be heard from the backyard, making the lights flicker and shake.

Birdie narrowed her eyes and looked at her husband and children each in turn.

“Wasn’t me!” Launchpad, Loopy and Ripcord all said at the same time, putting their hands in the air.

“What was it then?” Maggie asked, her eyes wide.

Drake was already halfway out of the house, Gosalyn on his tail even as he told her to stay back and stay inside.

Cursing that his gas gun was upstairs and that he was in civilian mode, Drake grabbed one of Gosalyn’s baseball bats from beside the backdoor and stepped out, Launchpad close behind with a hockey stick.

At hearing a rustling sound coming from the rosebush, Drake reared back with the bat, making a motion to Launchpad to keep quiet and creep close.

They were close to the bush, as the rustling noise went for longer, leaves falling and the bush shaking.

And then a head popped out.

Drake nearly brought the bat down on the head that yelled, “DRAKE NO IT’S ME!”

Drake stopped his momentum seconds before collision and he blinked.

“Fenton?” He said, his eyes going wide in surprise as the shorter duck wriggled his way out of the bush.

“Heh heh,” Fenton chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head, leaves and twigs in his hair. He kicked something into the bush—something glinting and metal and looked a lot like Gizmoduck’s visor. “Hey, guys… Sorry for, uh, dropping in unannounced. But, uh, Drake?” Fenton’s eyes met Drake’s, urgency in his gaze. “We need to talk business.”

Chapter Text

“I’m really sorry,” Fenton said where he sat at the kitchen table, Drake and Launchpad picking pieces of the bush out of Fenton’s hair and feathers. “I know it’s your day off, and you have company, but I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t absolutely urgent.”

“I gathered that you didn’t so much as come over as much as this was your unplanned landing zone,” Drake said. He took a step away and went to the kitchen entryway, listening to make sure that Gosalyn was keeping all of their guests—both the wanted and unwanted—entertained in the living room. Then he came back further in and said, “So. What’s going on?”

Fenton groaned slightly and said, “That electricity villain you told me about showed up today. Electro-kindle, no,” Fenton frowned. “Elector-excel, nope that’s not it either, Electro—”

Drake held up a hand with a sigh. “Let’s just do ourselves a favor and call him ‘Not-Megavolt’. It’s easier to say.”

“And spell,” Launchpad added.

Fenton looked relieved. “Yeah. That guy. Anyway, he showed up this afternoon while I was on patrol. By the time I got to him, he had mostly disassembled the generator at Glomgold Industries building. This is after I spent most of the morning at Waddle with Mark Beaks. Most of their tech got stolen from their so-called lab, which I now am pretty sure was actually this Megavolt guy.”

“How pretty sure are you?” Drake asked.

“Pretty sure because he had tech that matched the descriptions given to me by the Waddle ‘inventors’. Which was then hotwired to fry my suit.”

Drake and Launchpad both gaped at Fenton.

“He fried the Gizmoduck suit?” Launchpad said, stunned.

“Isn’t that thing, like, connected to your brain? How are you still alive?” Drake asked.

“Only the processor is connected to my brain,” Fenton said, like that made any difference. “But basically all of my gizmos went haywire. Anyway, I was able to take control enough to direct the rockets here, then I had to disconnect before it did get to the processor.”

“So, uh, is the suit… dead, then?” Launchpad asked cautiously and carefully.

Fenton shook his head. “No. I just need to give it a reboot. Something similar has happened before, long story, so it should be fine. I’ll need to give it a look-over before I suit up again, though. But that doesn’t matter at the moment,” Fenton waved his hand dismissively. “The point is, I don’t think either of us can handle this guy alone, Drake.”

“Agreed,” Drake said, nodding. “Someone’s going to get hurt soon—and I don’t just mean one of us. Let’s get through dessert, and then LP and I’ll go out with you tonight, see if we can track him down.”

“Sorry you have to do that on your day off,” Fenton said.

“Well, you know what they say,” Drake said, heading towards the fridge. “Crime never takes vacation days. Now then,” He said, pulling out two pies from the fridge. “You want a slice of key lime or lemon meringue?”

*****

While Fenton served as an awkward interloper and buffer, Saxony cornered Drake in the kitchen under the guise of helping bring in dishes.

“What the devil were you thinking?” Saxony hissed as Drake put plates in the dishwasher.

“You’re going to have to clarify on that,” Drake told him dryly. Especially as he now was thinking of how to defeat Not-Megavolt, when even Gizmoduck’s tools had the potential to be unavailable or—worse—backfire.

“Making that… that… paramour of yours Gosalyn’s legal guardian!” Saxony snapped. “Of all the foolish, irresponsible things you’ve ever done, this is the absolute, utmost—”

“Making the man I love and trust—someone Gosalyn loves and trusts—someone who loves her as much as I do, who is more than willing to do anything for her at the drop of a hat, have some form of responsibility for her wellbeing?” Drake responded coolly.

“You barely know him!” Saxony spluttered. “And his family… Well, they’re not the most… they don’t seem to be the most stable people, you know. Think of the influence that will have on Gosalyn.”

“And how it takes away from the influence you have on her,” Drake retorted. “Don’t think I don’t know the real reason you and Mom came here. Don’t think I don’t know that you tried to adopt Gosalyn before I did. For the record, she chose me as much as I chose her.”

Saxony huffed and glared at Drake. “Gosalyn deserves a normal family.”

Drake pushed the dishwasher rack in with a little more force than he intended as he glared up at Saxony. “I won’t insult my intelligence by asking what you mean by that. Nor will I give you the pleasure of answering. This family may not be normal, but Gosalyn is happy. She has friends, she has food, she has a good education and activities and the most fantastic experiences very few other kids get. She is happy. She is safe. And she is loved. That’s all that matters to me.

“And she wouldn’t get that in your version of a ‘normal’ family. Now excuse me, but I have guests to entertain.”

With that, Drake started the dishwasher and walked away, leaving his father to stew in silence.

*****

“No,” Drake said, narrowing his eyes at Gosalyn as he attached his cape to his jacket.

“It’s not a school night, Dad!” Gosalyn argued. “Come on, please?”

“No,” Drake repeated as he tied on his mask. “Gos, this guy could have killed Fenton. He fried the Gizmoduck suit.”

“And I have successfully unfried it!” Fenton exclaimed from where he sat on the floor, the torso of the Gizmoduck suit cradled in his lap, a screwdriver in hand. “I think.” He got to his feet and dislodged the suit pieces, tossing the screwdriver aside before putting his hand in the air. “Time to test it! Blathering blatherskite!”

The suit pieces swirled in the air around Fenton, coming together to transform him into Gizmoduck.

Drake scowled as Gizmoduck’s head bumped the light fixture, making it swing slightly and the lightbulbs flicker. “You’ve already destroyed my roses. Don’t destroy my house.”

“Right, sorry.” Gizmoduck said, carefully moving backwards.

“Come on, Dad,” Gosalyn groaned, tugging on Drake’s arm. “Please? Pretty please?”

“Fine,” Drake conceded with a roll of his eyes, but mostly because he wasn’t in a mood to argue. “But! You stick with Launchpad! Glued to his side, the whole night! Got it?”

“Yes!” Gosalyn exclaimed, bouncing about in an excited dance.

“I’m back!” Launchpad called as he entered through the front door. “You ready to roll?”

Drake nodded and grabbed his hat, placing it on his head as he said, “Let’s get dangerous.”

*****

It took quite a bit of hunting—and following the power outages—to track down Not-Megavolt.

They found him at an electrical substation down the road from the soccer fields, giggling maniacally to himself as he messed with a control box.

“What exactly is he doing?” Gosalyn asked, her brow furrowing.

“Don’t know, don’t care, so long as his dastardly deed is derailed before damage is done,” Darkwing Duck declared.

“There were more d’s in that sentence than on Dewey’s report card,” Gosalyn mumbled, but neither Darkwing nor Gizmoduck were listening as they leapt into action.

“Halt, evildoer!” Gizmoduck called out as he landed behind Not-Megavolt.

“Oh, look, the energy waster is back for another beating,” Not-Megavolt said with a sneer as he turned around.

A cloud of purple smoke appeared beside Gizmoduck, a voice within intoning, “I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the flickering light right above your cubicle! I am….” Darkwing dramatically threw his arms wide, cape in either of his hands to add to the effect. “DARKWING DUCK!”

“And you brought the drama school drop-out,” Not-Megavolt drawled. “A little desperate aren’t’cha, Gizmo?”

Darkwing growled, his teeth on edge. ‘Drama school drop-out’ hit a little too close to home, especially after the evening he had.

“You’re gonna wish he hadn’t when I’m done with you, Megavolt!” Darkwing snapped, pulling out his gas gun.

“The name,” Not-Megavolt snarled as he pulled out his tuning forks. “Is Electrokinexcelsior!”

“Yeah, yeah, suck gas, evildoer!” Darkwing said, pulling the trigger.

To both heroes’ surprise, the cloud of gas that surrounded Not-Megavolt suddenly crackled with lightning and electricity.

“Uh, was that supposed to happen?” Gizmoduck asked.

“No…” Darkwing admitted, looking at the barrel of the gas gun. He looked back to the cloud then his eyes widened. “He’s gone!”

“Not quite, Darkwing Dork!”

They both turned to see Not-Megavolt, scaled halfway up the side of an electrical pole, clutching onto the metal with one hand.

Darkwing clicked the gas gun’s setting to a grappling hook and was about to launch it when Gizmoduck grabbed his cape.

“Don’t!” He warned. “He’s too close to the wires, and there’s too much electricity flowing through those. Either one of us goes up there, we run the risk of getting electrocuted.”

Darkwing growled, but had to admit that Gizmoduck was right.

“I suppose I should thank you, Darkwing Dork,” Not-Megavolt called with a sneer. “After all, you’re the one who made me realize that I could make my point in much better ways! Especially since you just gave me the most shockingly brilliant idea!”

With that, he suddenly made a swiping motion and cried out, “Be free, my darling!”

“Move!” Darkwing yelled, leaping aside as Gizmoduck darted away from the crackling electric wire that was coming straight at them.

“We’ve got to get the power shut down!” Gizmoduck yelled to Darkwing, staying far back from the writhing wire on the ground.

“Do I look like an electrical engineer to you?” Darkwing yelled back.

Gizmoduck looked around frantically for a solution. He pointed at the panel Not-Megavolt had been at. “There! The EPO switch!”

“The what now?” Darkwing demanded.

“Emergency Power Off!” Gizmoduck yelled. “Quick, pull the switch!”

Darkwing did so and the wire slowly fizzled out.

And, wincing, Darkwing and Gizmoduck watched as all around them, for several blocks, lights went out. Street lights, houses, traffic lights. All dark. Alarms blared and there was the sound of people shouting.

Darkwing shook his head. A matter for the police, certainly.

“Come on, we need to go after Not-Megavolt,” Darkwing said. “If we hurry, we can—”

“Darkwing,” Gizmoduck said, regret in his voice. “We made this mess. And we’ve got to clean it up. Get on the phone with the proper authorities to get this substation restarted and fixed, ensure there’s no car wrecks…”

“But Megavolt—”

“I know!” Gizmoduck exclaimed, sounding as frustrated as Darkwing felt.

Darkwing couldn’t meet Gizmoduck’s eyes behind the visor. Several beats of silence passed between them.

Then, without warning, Darkwing threw his fist into the side of the panel, wishing it was Not-Megavolt’s face.

“Feel better?” Gizmoduck asked slowly, cautiously.

“No,” Darkwing snapped. It hadn’t been enough to let out all of the tension and frustration that had built up in him during the course of the day.

“We’re going to get him,” Gizmoduck said assuredly after a moment.

“Just not tonight,” Darkwing said tightly. He sighed. “Let’s get Pilot and Crimson Quackette, then…”

It’d be nice if one thing would have gone as it was supposed to that night.

But apparently the universe disagreed.

Chapter Text

Despite ultimately getting more sleep than he typically did after a night of patrol, Drake was in a foul mood, still simmering over Not-Megavolt’s escape.

Launchpad and Gosalyn had wisely decided to not ask questions as they followed Darkwing and Gizmoduck in the opposite direction that Not-Megavolt had taken, quickly picking up on Darkwing’s mood that matched his name. It was well after midnight before all the fires—literal and metaphorical—were put out, and there was still no sign of Not-Megavolt.

“Hey, Dad?” Gosalyn said warily in the car ride to McDuck Manor.

“Yeah?” Drake grunted.

“Are you sure you don’t need to stop at Starducks for some coffee?” Gosalyn said. “’Cause you’ve already had, like, three coffee pots worth and you’re still grumpy. And I’m pretty sure you’re gripping the steering wheel hard enough to rip it off.”

Drake sighed and released his grip on the wheel. “I’m just frustrated, Gos. This weekend isn’t exactly going as planned.”

“Yeah, villains put a damper on any weekend,” Gosalyn said with a nod.

“Especially the crazy ones with huge amounts of voltage,” Drake said as he pressed the buzzer on the intercom at the front gates.

“That wasn’t the villains I was referring to.”

That made Drake smile for the first time that day.

*****

Drake took a deep breath as he looked down at the duckling who opened the door, calmly saying, “Huey, why do you need all of that padding?”

“Roller derby is a full contact sport! The more padding the better!” Huey declared, his voice somewhat muffled from underneath all of the pillows he had strapped to him with bungee cords. He waddled slightly to move out of the way for Drake and Gosalyn to enter the foyer.

“Right, but you know you’ll be in the stands, not on the track, right?” Drake asked as he stepped inside the manor, careful not to bump into Huey and tip him over.

“Drake, you of all people—as a former Junior Woodchuck—should know that the JWG says ‘Better safe than sorry’!” Huey said, trying to raise an arm and only able to move it about three inches and nearly tipped himself over in the process.

“I kind of gave up on that one phrase from the JWG when I took up the phrase ‘Let’s get dangerous’.” Drake admitted as he quickly grabbed Huey to get him upright again. “Have Violet and Lena been dropped off already?”

“Don’t you mean, Violent Slayerwing?” Violet said in her typical deadpan voice as she slid down the bannister.

“And Maiming Le-Slay!” Lena added, following her sister’s lead and sliding down the opposite bannister. “And their best friend…”

“Whippy Vander-Smack!” Webby declared as she did a front flip from the top of the stairs to land on her feet.

“Sweet!” Gosalyn said, high-fiving Webby. “Nice roller derby names!”

“Have you picked one yet?” Lena asked.

“Yep,” Gosalyn said, grinning. “I’m Slaughterlyn Mal-Hazard!”

“I see you’re all more than ready to go watch some roller derby,” Drake said.

“Uh huh!” Webby said, bouncing on her toes with excitement.

“It’s all they have been talking about this morning,” Mrs. Beakley said as she entered the foyer with Dewey and Louie.

“I know all about roller derby!” Webby declared. “Did you know Granny once went undercover to break-up a smuggling ring disguised as a roller derby team?”

“Really?” Drake said, glancing at the housekeeper. He knew she was a former spy, but sometimes he had trouble remembering that when he was typically face to face with the prim and proper Mrs. Beakley.

“You’re looking at the one and only Bent-out-of-Shape Beserkly,” Mrs. Beakley said, looking a bit smug. “Thank you for taking the children to tonight’s event.”

“And Della,” Della said as she appeared at the top of the stairs.

“I was including you in that statement,” Mrs. Beakley said, but without bite. “And are you ever going to get around to getting yourself declared undead and get your driver’s license renewed?”

“As long as I’m considered dead, I don’t have to pay taxes. Or get called up for jury duty.” Della said plainly.

Mrs. Beakley stared at her before letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Right. You were raised by Scrooge McDuck.”

She gave Drake a look that said ‘Good luck and Godspeed’.

Remembering the battle from last night, Drake asked, “Hey, Mrs. Beakley? I’ve got a question. About my gas gun.”

“Yes?” Mrs. Beakley prompted.

“What would be in the canisters that conducts electricity?” Drake asks.

“Nothing that I am overtly aware of,” She responded. “Except… Which one was it?”

“Basic knockout,” Drake answered.

Mrs. Beakley frowned and shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“It might be Xenon,” Violet said abruptly.

“Xenon?” Drake repeated.

“It’s a noble gas. All noble gases conduct electricity.” Violet told him. “Xenon is used to make lasers. It is also sometimes used as an anesthetic. Hence why it would be part of the mixture in the knockout canister. However, Xenon is rare and expensive. There’s probably only trace amounts in the canisters.”

“Enough to act as a conductor for a lot of electricity,” Drake said.

Violet shrugged.

Another thought occurred to Drake. “Is there any chance I could get in touch with the inventor? Or contact him through you, Mrs. Beakley?”

“No,” Mrs. Beakley said sharply. “No. That… won’t be possible.”

“But what if I have an issue with the gas gun? And I’m going to run out of canisters eventually,” Drake pointed out. “I’ll need more.”

“I believe Mr. McDuck already has Gyro Gearloose on that latter scenario,” Mrs. Beakley said. “But as for contacting the inventor… It is impossible.”

“Is he no longer with S.H.U.S.H.?” Dewey asked.

“No, Dewey. He is no longer among the living,” Mrs. Beakley said. She sighed and said, “You better be off, or you’ll never find a decent parking spot.”

With that, they all left with the distinct feeling that they were dismissed. Drake glanced over his shoulder as they left to see Mrs. Beakley turn away from the door and stand still for a long moment before she walked away.

“So,” Della said from the front seat of Drake’s car, the kids all chatting in the back. “Launchpad mentioned this morning that your parents might actually show up to this thing?”

“Yeah, but I doubt it,” Drake said. “They probably just accepted to get Loopy off their back. If asked, they’ll say urgent mayoral business called them back to St. Canard or whatever.”

There was no way his parents would be caught dead at a roller derby bout. This he knew.

Maybe he’d get to truly enjoy something on his weekend off anyway…

*****

Drake and Gosalyn both stared in shock at the sight before them.

Saxony and Maggie Mallard were not only present and seated on the bleachers, but sitting right behind Launchpad, Birdie and Ripcord.

“They actually came,” Gosalyn mumbled.

“Apparently,” Drake grumbled. “Just my luck…”

The only consolation was that both Saxony and Maggie looked so completely out of their element, it was kind of funny.

“Hey, everyone!” Launchpad greeted as the rest of the kids rushed over.

While the kids and Della were being introduced to the McQuacks, Drake whispered to his parents, “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“We said we would,” Saxony huffed.

“Right, but I didn’t think you meant it,” Drake said.

“We’re here for Gosalyn’s sake,” Maggie said. She looked around distastefully at the track where the players were warming up and said, “This is clearly not a suitable place for a sweet young girl…”

Drake turned his head at hearing his name called. To his surprise, it was another familiar face. And one that was much more welcome.

“Elise!” He greeted her with a smile.

“Hey, Drake,” Dr. Elise Schwanz said as she came over. “Nice to see you in an upright position and walking under your own power for once.”

“Ha ha,” Drake said flatly, but his genuine smile didn’t drop. Elise was a doctor at the Duckburg Hospital emergency room, but also on the payroll of Scrooge McDuck as the personal doctor for both Gizmoduck and Darkwing Duck. As a result, Drake and Elise spent a lot of time together, and were well on their way to becoming friends. Or something like it. “And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before. It has always been scrubs.”

“Day off,” Elise said by way of a response. “Are you here to cheer on the Duckburg Demolition Divas?”

“Actually, the Soaring Swans,” Drake said. “Launchpad’s sister is the captain.”

“That’s nice, but the Duckburg team is totally going to kick their butts tonight,” Elise said, smirking. “I know, because Zan is a force to be reckoned with on skates.”

“I didn’t know Zan did roller derby,” Drake said.

“Yeah, she did it a bit in college, and took it up again shortly after starting as CEO at Glomgold Industries. Said she needed an outlet for her daily frustration of dealing with Flintheart Glomgold.”

“I’ve heard stories about that man-baby. I fully understand.”

“Mind if I join you all?”

“Only if Zan won’t be mad that you’re sitting with New Quackmore supporters.”

“She won’t mind,” Elise said with a wave of her hand. Then she seemed to notice Saxony and Maggie and said, “Oh, sorry, I was interrupting something, wasn’t I?”

“Actually—” Saxony started to say.

“No, no you weren’t,” Drake said quickly.

Elise arched an eyebrow at him, then stuck out her hand towards the senior Mallards. “Doctor Elise Schwanz.”

“Mayor Saxony Mallard of St. Canard,” Saxony responded, shaking her hand. “And my wife, Maggie.”

Recognition flashed through Elise’s face at the name ‘Mallard’ and she put two and two together. “Well, nice to meet you. You two must be quite the roller derby fans to come all the way to Duckburg for this, especially since the St. Canard team didn’t qualify.”

“We are not,” Maggie said, sounding a bit offended at being implied to like roller derby. At a roller derby event. “We were in town and happened to be invited.”

“Ah,” Elise said simply in response. “Well, I’m going to go say hi to Launchpad and Gosalyn.”

“She seems like a nice young woman,” Maggie said in a low voice to Drake after Elise had slipped past. “Pretty, successful, and you two seem to get along… Why not date her?”

“Well for three big reasons. One, I’m dating Launchpad. Two, we’re friends but our relationship is mostly professional, given how when we usually see each other it is with me as her patient. And three, she’s a lesbian.” Drake said, ignoring the twist of his mother’s beak as the music cut off and the announcer got everyone’s attention, the first bout was about to begin.

It was the Soaring Swans of New Quackmore versus the Duckburg Demolition Divas. As the players took their positions for the first jam, they were introduced by their Roller Derby name.

There was an exceptionally loud amount of cheering when the Soaring Swans pivot and captain, Crashandra Burns was announced.

Crashandra—AKA Loopy McQuack—waved at her family and friends in the crowd.

Saxony and Maggie looked embarrassed to be seen with the people they were seated with.

As the players were resetting for the last jam of the bout, things had calmed down enough for Drake to notice something about the track.

“Hey, Launchpad?” He said in a low voice.

“Yeah?” Launchpad responded.

“Is it just my imagination, but are there wires coming from some of the lines of the track?” Drake asked.

Launchpad frowned. “Yeah? That’s weird. Never seen that before.”

Drake stood up and went to the edge of the seating area, Launchpad behind him. Drake followed one of the wire’s path with his eyes. His frowned deepened. “It leads to the scoreboard.”

“That’s not how they keep track of the scores,” Launchpad said. “You think it’s Not-Megavolt?”

“I definitely don’t think it’s not Not-Megavolt,” Drake said, pulling out his phone. He frowned. “That was a confusing sentence, I’m not even sure it made sense. Anyways, I’m going to call Fenton.”

But before he could, his phone started to buzz with an incoming call from Fenton himself.

“Hello?” Drake said, quickly answering.

“Darkwing,” Fenton—no, Gizmoduck—said urgently. “Not-Megavolt just robbed Dr. Gearloose’s lab, and is now headed toward the Duckburg Colusium!”

“What did he steal from the lab?” Drake asked.

“Some canisters of Xenon,” Gizmoduck answered. “It’s a—”

“—Noble gas, and conducts electricity,” Drake finished. “It’s used to make lasers mostly.”

“Exactly. I have no idea what he wants to do with it.” Gizmoduck said.

“Neither do I, and I hope we don’t find out,” Drake said grimly. “How soon can you be here?”

“I’m right outside,” Gizmoduck said. “You have your costume?”

“Of course,” Drake said. “See you in a few.”

“Everything okay?” Elise asked as she, Della and Gosalyn approached.

“Not sure,” Drake said after he hung up on Gizmoduck. “But we need to get this place evacuated. Now.”

“Why?” Della asked.

The answer came when the lights suddenly went off. Being a windowless room, everything was suddenly in pitch black. Several people screamed and soon someone was yelling that the doors were locked.

Launchpad whispered to Drake, “Go!”

Drake took that moment to disappear, pausing only to grab his bag with his costume.

“Drake? Drakey is that you?” His mother called, her voice tight with fear.

“Yeah,” He admitted, quickly pulling his costume on over his shirt.

“What’s going on?” Saxony demanded.

“How should I know?” Drake said as he tied on his mask. “Stay here. No, actually, see if you can find your way out of the building. But be careful.”

“And where the devil are you going?” Saxony demanded.

“To shed some light on this situation,” Darkwing said, pulling on his hat before disappearing.

Suddenly, music was blaring from the floor, and a spotlight came on.

Darkwing Duck scowled at seeing Not-Megavolt standing in the center of the track, holding a microphone, but he used his grappling hook to ascend to the rafters.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Not-Megavolt said dramatically. “Boys and girls. Children of all ages. A bunch of ungrateful ingrates and electricity wasters, all of you! None of you deserve this precious commodity! You all abuse it with your video games and microwave dinners and digital billboards! Well no more! I, Electrokinexcelsior, shall be the sole provider of electricity and the only authority on the use of electricity!

“Now, you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here tonight. Well, let’s just say I knew that tonight would be full of energy! And what better way to teach you imbeciles a lesson than by using that energy against you? Our lovely ladies of Duckburg and New Quackmore have been so kind as to share that energy to me, albeit unknowingly! With every point scored, every line crossed, the electro-kinetic energy from their bodies has transferred from wires in the floor to one location.”

Not-Megavolt put his hand on the scoreboard, and things started to click.

“Now, you have two choices. Make me supreme ruler and give up electricity for the rest of your days, or die!” Not-Megavolt pulled out a remote and clicked a button. Clouds of fog started rolling in throughout the arena. “This fog is special, for it is laced with a noble gas that conducts electricity. Wouldn’t want to be standing in a room full of it when a little spark of electricity goes off if I were you! So! You make your choice! Bow to me, and I will let you all live!”

“Third option,” Darkwing said, dropping to the ground a few paces away from Megavolt. “Surrender now, and I’ll put in a good word in at your parole hearing in, oh, twenty to thirty years!”

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dorwking Schmuck!” Not-Megavolt sneered. “You know you can’t beat me—you’ve tried and failed every time! Not even the great Gizmoduck stands a chance!”

A loud crash from above came in the form of a descending white-armored figure, who landed on the floor beside Darkwing.

“Sorry, heard my name and thought I’d step in,” Gizmoduck said, brushing debris off his shoulders.

“And I thought I knew how to make an entrance,” Darkwing grumbled.

“You’re too late!” Not-Megavolt exclaimed. “I have created an electrical waystation right in this building! All of Duckburg’s power is right here, and you take one wrong step and it will all blow! All of Duckburg, no, all of Calisota will learn to finally respect electricity!”

“Justice is never late, Megavolt!” Gizmoduck responded. “It arrives exactly when it is supposed to!”

Not-Megavolt seethed. “The name,” He growled. “Is Electrokinexcelsior!”

With that, he pressed a button on a remote. The lights of the coliseum grew so bright and hot before they all burst, raining hot sparks down. Electricity crackled in the high ceiling like lightning. There was more screaming and yelling. Darkwing heard the voices of Launchpad, Elise and Della over the din, herding people towards a door that had been broken down.

In the chaos, Not-Megavolt was running away.

“The waystation is in the scoreboard,” Darkwing yelled at Gizmoduck. “I think that’s what is connected to the remote. Where all of his power is coming from. If we can get it turned off, we can stop him!”

“Right!” Gizmoduck exclaimed, wheeling himself over to the scoreboard, overturning the table where a small generator lay on the floor. Darkwing did not like how Gizmoduck’s beak twisted into a frown. “Ooh, this is tricky…”

“What do you need to get it turned off?” Darkwing demanded.

“Time and a second pair of hands,” Gizmoduck answered as he started examining the generator.

“I can buy time,” Darkwing told him. “I’m going after him.”

“That was an ‘and’, Darkwing, not an ‘or’,” Gizmoduck said sharply. “Blathering blatherskite, where’s an engineer when you need one?”

Darkwing’s eyes widened and he looked across at the amassed group of roller derby players, being herded towards the locker room by an official. Apparently there was an emergency exit that way.

“I can get you both time and a second pair of hands,” He said, then he took off running, yelling, “Loopy! Loopy McQuack! Loopdeloop! Uh, Crashandra Burns!”

He saw one of the Soaring Swans derby players pause, and he was glad to see Loopy’s number—91—on her back and armbands as well as a bold white stripe on her helmet. Wide-eyes turned around underneath dyed pink bangs.

Loopy turned around and—with the expertise that came from knowing how to skate through a large crowd and quickly—she skated over to Darkwing, skidding to a stop, looking expectant.

“Gizmoduck needs help,” Darkwing said. “He needs an engineer! Can you do that?”

Loopy’s eyes were determined as she nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. You go kick bad guy butt!”

She offered her hand out in a fist, and Darkwing bumped it with his own before he took off running in the direction Not-Megavolt had gone, while Loopy skated towards Gizmoduck.

He wasn’t surprised to see that Not-Megavolt had escaped into the parking lot; after all, the best way to get lost was in the midst of a panicking crowd. He paused in the middle and glanced around before catching sight of the power-mad not-cosplayer.

“Darkwing!”

He turned to see Gosalyn approach, and on quad skates, followed by Violet, Webby, Huey, Dewey and Louie, also on skates. Was it his imagination, or had Huey also found more padding?

“Where the heck did you—never mind, I don’t want to know,” Darkwing said. “Have you seen Megavolt?”

“He went that way, but he won’t get far,” Gosalyn pointed. She held out a pair of skates to him. “Put these on! Quick!”

“What’s going on?” Darkwing asked as he quickly tied on the roller skates. “And how do you know he won’t get far? And where’s Della and Launchpad?”

“They’re guarding Lena,” Huey said. “She’s created a barrier with her magic around the parking lot. That’s how we know he can’t escape, but we have to hurry, she can’t hold it forever!”

Especially if Gizmoduck and Loopy failed, he thought but didn’t say.

“And the skates?” Darkwing asked as he stood up.

“Need to be able to move fast, don’t you?” Louie said.

“Come on, let’s go!” Webby exclaimed, taking off in the direction that Gosalyn had pointed at a few minutes before.

They found Not-Megavolt, frantically pounding at the invisible barrier Lena had created. He looked over his shoulder and started running when he saw Darkwing.

But Darkwing was faster, courtesy of being on eight wheels instead of two feet. Plus, he saw something out of the corner of his eye that he hoped Not-Megavolt hadn’t seen.

“I am the terror that hip-checks in the night!” Darkwing yelled as he skated up to Not-Megavolt, using his body to block against him, sending the villain tumbling. He hit the ground, then leapt up to his feet, only for Darkwing to block his path, ends of his cape in his hands as he exclaimed,

“I am the referee that sends you to the penalty box—indefinitely. I am DARKWING DUCK!”

Not-Megavolt snarled and turned to run…

Face first into Gizmoduck’s metal torso.

“It’s over, Megavolt!” Gizmoduck said as he picked the dazed villain off the ground by his collar.

He still somehow had a bit of fight left in him as he aimlessly kicked and punched in Gizmoduck’s grip.

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU SUPER LOSERS? I AM NOT MEGAVOLT I AM ELECTROKINEXCELSIOR!!!!”

Darkwing sighed. “Fine. Okay. Electrokinexcelsior. Whatever. Just do us one thing.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out his notebook and pen. “How the heck do you spell that? For the police report?”

“It’s the easiest thing in the world, numbskull!” The villain snapped as he thrashed. “It’s E-L-E-C-T-R-O-K-I-N—” His face suddenly dropped, and he went still. “Wait, or is it E-N? No…”

Darkwing and Gizmoduck just stared at him expectantly.

The rat villan heaved a huge sigh and his whole being drooped as he pouted. “Fine. Megavolt it is.”

“So glad we could come to an agreement,” Darkwing said, tucking away the notebook and pen.

“Thanks for sending that engineer my way, by the way,” Gizmoduck said. “Am I mistaken, or was that…?” He trailed off, not wanting to say a name that Megavolt might remember.

“Exactly who you think it was,” Darkwing confirmed.

“I’d never have gotten it turned off without her help. It took her all of five minutes and some bubblegum,” Gizmoduck confessed. “I’m still not quite sure why bubblegum. She was very insistent about the bubblegum…”

“Oh, you know what they say,” Darkwing said. “Engineering is like a jigsaw puzzle. Find what looks like it should stick it together, then apply bubblegum and force to make it stick when it doesn’t want to.”

Gizmoduck was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Darkwing, do not quit your day job. Er, night job. Whichever it is. Just please don’t become an engineer.”

Darkwing smiled. “No problem there, Giz. No problem there…”

Chapter Text

Drake, having changed his costume, sought out his family and friends.

He was not prepared for the frantic hug that he was drawn into by his mother.

“Oh, Drakey!” Maggie exclaimed, sniffling slightly. “You had us so worried when you disappeared! I’m so glad you’re alright!”

Drake blinked in surprise and found himself returning the hug, unsure when the last time he had had a hug this genuine from his mother. It was definitely well before he had actually left his parents’ house over ten years before.

Maggie soon released him, her hands on his shoulders, dusting him off a bit as she said, “After all, we can’t have Gosalyn going to live with those McQuacks now can we?”

And… there was the catch.

As usual.

Drake rolled his eyes and said, “Don’t worry, I plan on Gosalyn living with me for a very long time.”

With that, he walked her over to where Launchpad, Della, Elise, Ripcord and Birdie stood with the kids.

Upon seeing him, Birdie rushed over and gave him a hug as well, though hers felt… different somehow.

“So glad to see you’re alright, dear,” Birdie said, releasing him, then looking concerned. “You are alright, aren’t you? Launchpad said you were going to go assist the security team, but we didn’t see you…” But there was something in her gaze that Drake took note of as she said that last part, as if she was studying him a bit deeper.

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Drake assured her. “What about you? Everyone get out safely?”

“We’re as safe as a plane in a hanger!” Ripcord said as he came over and threw an arm across Drake’s shoulders.

“Thanks to Darkwing Duck,” Loopy said as she approached the group, still dressed in her uniform, but with a duffle bag over her shoulder and no skates, her helmet on her head but the strap loose.

“And Gizmoduck,” Drake added, because he could give credit where credit was due.

And it made him feel better about being smug that Darkwing Duck was thanked first.

Loopy’s eyes seemed to sparkle as she glanced at him, then her parents as she said, “Yeah. Gizmoduck, too. But Darkwing…” She glanced back at Drake. “Was on the scene first.”

“Hey, Loopy,” Gosalyn said as she ran over. “What are they going to do about the rest of the bout?”

“Not sure yet,” Loopy said. “There’s been talk of forfeit, or rescheduling to start it over.” She glanced behind her at the coliseum. “But it’s probably not going to be here, or tonight…”

“Well, hopefully,” Saxony said as he strutted over to the group, his chest puffed out. “It may mean you take a visit to our lovely city of St. Canard soon. I just spoke with the officials and offered the St. Canard Pep Soda Colosseum for the rescheduled quarterfinal. As Mayor, I speak for the city in saying that we would just love to play hosts. In fact, wasn’t I just saying Maggie that we needed to become more invested in the St. Canard league?”

“You were indeed, my love,” Maggie said brightly with her politician’s wife smile.

Drake was constantly amazed at his father’s ability to turn any given situation into something about himself.

And he had a feeling that St. Canard would also heavily benefit from the hospitality tax revenue and the tourism.

“How kind of you,” Birdie said graciously, but she caught Drake’s eye and realized that they were both resisting the urge to roll their eyes.

“Well, I should probably get the kids home,” Drake said. “The Sabrewings, Mrs. Beakley, Donald and Mr. McDuck are probably worried sick.”

*****

After dropping off Violet and Lena at their house, Drake drove Della and the kids to the manor. They were all a bit confused when Mrs. Beakley told Drake to come inside the house instead of just seeing Della and the children to the door.

And they were all somewhat surprised to see Mrs. Beakley serving tea to the McQuacks in the drawing room.

To be fair, Launchpad and Mrs. Beakley seemed to be just as surprised.

“Uh, wasn’t expecting to see you all again tonight,” Drake admitted.

“We’re aware,” Loopy said, still dressed in her roller derby gear, her helmet on the side table. “But we wanted to see you. The hero of the evening.”

“What?” Drake said, drawing out the word as he made frantic eye-contact with Launchpad—who clearly had no idea what was going either. “No, no, that was Darkwing Duck and Gizmoduck.”

“Correcto,” Ripcord said, grinning broadly, pointing at Drake with a finger gun. “And we wanted to see Darkwing Duck again tonight. So here we are. Looking right at him.”

There was a long, painful silence.

No one was denying it.

No one knew where to begin with denying it.

“Uh, Della,” Mrs. Beakley said quickly. “How about we take the children and get them ready for bed?”

“Aw, come on,” Louie groaned, his hands thrown out in front of him. “And miss the drama?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Beakley said, coming over to help Della usher the four manor kids out of the room.

“Text us with updates, Gos!” Dewey hissed as he was shoved out, the door slamming shut behind them.

“I didn’t tell them,” Launchpad said quickly in the resulting silence.

“You didn’t have to, dear,” Birdie said, stirring sugar into her tea. “Drake basically did that for you.”

Drake somehow found his way to a chair, sinking into it, only able to get out one word: “How?”

“Well, to begin,” Birdie said, leaning back into the couch. “Neither Launchpad nor Gosalyn, nor any of your other friends here in Duckburg, seemed too concerned as to how you somehow got separated from the group so quickly. Oh, yes, we were told you were going to help the security guards, and that we suspect is true.”

“Not to mention,” Ripcord added. “All of the doors were locked. But Darkwing Duck managed to get inside, and without punching a hole in the building like Gizmoduck did. Or, he was already inside when the doors were locked. So when one person disappears, only for another to reappear in his place…”

“Then, of course,” Loopy said, meeting Drake’s eyes. “There was the fact that Darkwing Duck not only knew my name—my full name, my nickname, and my derby name—but that I was an engineer. Darkwing Duck sought me out directly and knew me on sight. I’m not from Duckburg. I rarely get to visit. I never have had a reason to visit Duckburg as an engineer. I hardly know anyone here. But there’s one person I met, last night in fact, who would know that I was an engineer. Either because my big brother likes to brag about me all the time about everything—” With that, Loopy gestured towards Launchpad, then lifted her teacup with a smirk. “—or because it was talked about at his dinner table last night. Or both.”

She quite pointedly took a sip.

There was quiet in the room and then Drake let out a tired, slightly deranged chuckle. “And here I was, thinking I was doing a better job with the secret identity thing compared to Fenton…” He said, rubbing his hand over his face.

“I presume that those horrible excuses for people that you begrudgingly refer to as your parents are unaware?” Birdie said.

“Oh yeah, most definitely,” Gosalyn answered that question as she perched herself on Launchpad’s knee. She twisted her mouth into a frown. “We never want them to know. Right, Dad?”

Drake, who still had his hand over his eyes, simply made a noise that was vaguely an affirmative.

“Drake,” Birdie said softly. “Last night, you and Launchpad told us the story of how you two met. I suspected then that it was heavily abridged, and would love to hear the full story later. But for now, how about I tell a story?”

Drake hummed slightly as he moved his hand, looking up to see Birdie place her hand on Ripcord’s knee, and he smiled and put his hand over hers, meeting each other’s eyes, their gazes full of love for each other. Birdie’s smile grew as she turned back to Drake and said, “The story I want to tell is of how Ripcord and I met.

“I grew up… Well, I grew up pretty rough. My family was poor, and my parents weren’t the best. To say the least. I don’t wish to go into details in that regard. Ever since I was small, I dreamed of flying. Being free like the birds in the sky. And I... Well, I made the mistake of mentioning that to my parents. They mocked me and told me my dreams were as stupid as I was. They told me that I couldn’t make it into the air. Because I was a girl, because I wasn’t smart enough, because I had dreams, because… well, anything and everything. It became such a joke, in my house and with my extended family. That I wanted to fly. And, worse, everyone else in my town thought the same. I had no support, from family, from friends, from teachers. No one. I was Birdie, with her head in the clouds and air in her head, and her feet firmly on the ground. And, eventually, I stopped supporting myself and my dreams.

“After I graduated from high school, I moved away, trying to become financially independent. At one point, I was working three jobs and still struggling to make rent, even though I was living with three roommates. One day, one of my roommates mentioned that her sister was a flight attendant, and that the airline that she worked for was hiring. I applied on a whim, and got hired. I loved it. I loved flying, traveling, seeing the world. But I wanted more. I wanted to be the one piloting. And I guess what I realized wasn’t that I wanted to fly, but that I wanted to be in control.

“I went to several piloting schools, but they were all unaffordable. I finally worked up the courage to tell one of the pilots I frequently worked with that I wanted to pilot. And he laughed at me, told me I should stick to serving drinks. I vowed after that humiliation that I would never tell another pilot—a real pilot—that I wanted to fly. And then… And then I got off a plane and went to the pilots’ lounge in an airport. As a flight attendant, that was allowed. I met up with a few friends, fellow flight attendants, all giggling over this tall, broad-shouldered man sitting at the bar, with his scuffed jacket and cap. I went to the bar to place my order…”

“And I noticed this gorgeous woman beside me, with the prettiest eyes and shyest of smiles,” Ripcord said. “And I took a chance, asked her if she had just got off duty.”

“And I told him yes, I had,” Birdie said, taking up the narrative again. “And I asked him what airline he flew for, as I had never seen the uniform he was wearing before. And he told me he wasn’t surprised, but it wasn’t a uniform. He was a pilot, for the Flying McQuacks, a family of stunt pilots.

“We introduced ourselves, and parted ways, thinking that was that. Until we saw each other again a few weeks later in another airport lounge. And sat together, enjoying a drink or two. And a meal. And a lot of good conversation. But it wasn’t until we ran into each other twice more before he got up the courage to actually ask me on a date.

“We were dating for a little while, and finally he asked me if I would be interested in going up in his plane with him. And it was… exhilarating. Thrilling. Life changing.  I loved every bit of it. When we were discussing the flight after we landed again, I accidentally mentioned that I had wanted to fly. I regretted it as soon as the words were out of my mouth, but even as I was trying to take my words back, I realized that Ripcord wasn’t laughing at me.

“Instead, he offered me an opportunity to pilot his own plane. That he would teach me to fly. And I accepted. And, well, the first lesson was horrible. I crashed. I thought that all I had accomplished was making a fool of myself in front of my boyfriend, and that I had crashed his beloved plane, and that I had just proved everyone right. That I should never fly a plane. But Ripcord,” She squeezed her husband’s hand. “Well, I was shocked at how proud he was of the fact that I crashed, of all things.”

“It was the moment I knew I was in love with you,” Ripcord declared. “In fact, that was the moment I knew it was destiny to marry you. Anyone who could crash that well was, well, born to have the McQuack name.”

“You flirt,” Birdie said with a chuckle. “Anyways, he was eager for me to try again. Encouraged me in every step. And,” She looked back at her husband with adoring eyes. “I knew I was in love by the end of that first lesson. And that first lesson turned into many, many more. And more dates. And, eventually, marriage. And then, of course, that led to our two precious babies.” She looked over at Drake and smiled at him softly. “Being Darkwing Duck is the same for you, isn’t it? It’s how you know you’re free. Where you find yourself, away from all the little voices that told you ‘no’.”

“I… Yes,” Drake admitted. “It is.”

Birdie nodded. “But you wouldn’t have found it without having first found the people who support you. Who love you.”

“I wouldn’t have become Darkwing Duck without Launchpad and Gosalyn,” Drake admitted. “I was still doing amateur hour before they came along.”

“You three,” Ripcord said, gesturing to Drake, Launchpad and Gosalyn. “May not have known each other for very long. But you’re most definitely a family. You love each other, you support each other.”

“You kick butt together,” Loopy threw in.

“That, too,” Ripcord said. “Point is, you all found each other, and are happier for it. And we couldn’t be happier for each and every one of you.”

Birdie set down her teacup and stood up, crossing the room and cupping Drake’s face with her hands. “I know how hard it is, though, even when you’re surrounded by so much love, when it’s the people you’re related to by blood that try to destroy that happiness. It’s painful. It cuts deep, even when you think you’re past the point of anything being able to hurt you.

“I get it. I understand it. And, well… I wanted you to know that we’re here for you as well. Especially me. I’ve been there, done that, wish I hadn’t had to. Wish you don’t have to. But I already consider you my son.” Her kind bright eyes suddenly had a glint like that of a sharp knife in moonlight. “And God help the fool that messes with my children.”

Drake couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he stood up and hugged Birdie, who quickly returned the hug.

He hadn’t known how much he needed a hug like that. How he had needed a hug just like this his whole life.

And, perhaps, it could only come exactly when it needed to.

*****

“Honestly, I’m surprised you asked us to meet you here,” Saxony said, glancing around the Starducks that he, Maggie, Drake and Launchpad were sitting in.

“Yeah, so was I,” Drake admitted, wrapping his hands around his coffee cup, feeling the steady, supportive weight of Launchpad’s hand on his thigh. The call had been placed after a long conversation between himself, Gosalyn and Launchpad on Drake’s bed, the three sitting around and having a discussion about the senior Mallards and boundaries they were willing to establish. “But we need to talk.”

“Well, make it quick,” Saxony said, picking up his own cup. “We’ve got to leave soon for St. Canard.”

“Then I’ll cut to the chase,” Drake said, keeping his voice even and his face blank. “I don’t appreciate your attempts to undermine my parenting of Gosalyn, and trying to influence her.”

“We’ve done no such thing, Drakey,” Maggie said, looking clearly offended. “That you would insinuate—”

“I’m not insinuating. I’m stating. Perhaps you view it differently, but I’m telling you how I see it,” Drake said firmly. “Gosalyn is my daughter. I am her father. Yes, she is your granddaughter, but that’s it. She’s a good kid, and, quite frankly, you don’t know her.”

“Only because you selfishly keep her all to yourself in Duckburg,” Maggie snapped.

“Duckburg is where we’re both happy,” Drake countered. “I have a job I love that pays well, and Gosalyn has so many friends here.”

“But your family is in St. Canard,” Saxony said. “Not that you ever really cared about family…”

“You say we don’t know her, but she doesn’t know us!” Maggie argued.

“Why would I want her to have a relationship with people who don’t even make an effort to have a relationship with me?” Drake challenged. “I was gone for ten years. You never reached out. You never gave me an indication that I was welcome back.”

“We figured letting you strike out on your own was for the best,” Saxony said, taking a drink of his coffee. “You’d come crawling back soon enough.”

“Do you not hear yourselves?” Drake asked. “More importantly, do you not hear me?”

“We hear you loud and clear, accusing us of being bad parents,” Maggie said with a sniff.

Drake narrowed his eyes in frustration and let out a low growl as Launchpad patted his leg. Drake took a deep breath and huffed.

“Look. If you truly want a relationship as Gosalyn’s grandparents, then there’s some ground rules that have to be established. Visits need to be arranged in advance. Weeks in advance. I don’t want to be dropped in on like I was this weekend. We can go to St. Canard, or you can come here. But for now I want those visits in neutral locations. Not my house or yours. So no over-night visits. And no solo visits. Gosalyn will always have either me or Launchpad with her.”

“Why so much distrust?” Saxony demanded. “We love her, you know.”

“There is so much distrust because Gosalyn doesn’t trust either of you. Not yet. Gosalyn has gone through a lot in her short life. She doesn’t trust easily. And quite frankly, after everything that has happened between us, I don’t feel comfortable being around you yet either. Not enough to know that Gosalyn would be okay on her own. I need proof. Which, from you two, means I need a couple of things. Predominately, I need you to stop insulting my life and my life’s choices at every opportunity. Yes, I’ve made some bad ones. Everyone does. I’ve accepted that. I don’t care what you think of those choices, but keep those thoughts to yourself. And don’t try to change her. She’s perfect the way she is. She’s a tomboy with a big heart, a quick-thinking brain, and a propensity for mischief. I love her that way. She loves herself that way. I just ask for you to love her that way, too.”

Neither Saxony nor Maggie looked necessarily pleased.

“So long as you promise one thing,” Maggie said.

“And what is that, Mother?” Drake asked, internally cringing at all the potential answers.

“None of those neutral locations are at a roller derby… whatever it is.” Maggie said, shuddering with disgust.

The corner of Drake’s mouth lifted and Launchpad had to quickly turn his laugh into a cough. “I can make that promise.”

“Then this is settled?” Saxony asked, sounding bored.

“I believe so. For now,” Drake said.

“Good, good,” Saxony said. “Now I can go back to St. Canard and deal with real business.”

Drake did roll his eyes then.

“You never did say, Mr. Mallard,” Launchpad said. “What brought you and Mrs. Mallard to Duckburg in the first place this weekend?”

At this, Saxony and Maggie smiled coyly.

“Oh, we’re so glad you asked!” Maggie said, sounding delighted. Apparently, she had been waiting all weekend for this question. “Binkie—Drake’s sister—and her family are moving here for Herb’s job!”

“We came down to look at houses with them,” Saxony said, adjusting his suit jacket.

“Herb?” Drake repeated, feeling blood drain from his face. “Herb… Muddlefoot?”

“I’d say the one and only, but their younger boy is a junior!” Maggie said. “How did you now know that our Binkie married Herb Muddlefoot? It was in all the Society papers in Calisota…”

“They’re moving. From St. Canard. To Duckburg.” Drake said, frozen in place.

“Yes,” Saxony said, his smile growing. “Actually, they signed the paperwork on Saturday for a house.”

“It’s such a charming little house,” Maggie cooed. “That 539 Avian Way…”

Both Drake and Launchpad stared with wide eyes.

“Buh?” They said together, horrified.

539 Avian Way…

Which would be right next door to 537 Avian Way.

Which was where Drake and Gosalyn lived.

“Well then,” Drake said numbly. “I guess we won’t necessarily need to meet our new neighbors…”