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Peter woke up and shuddered, something wasn't right. His gut said today was going to be a bad day.
What is wrong, Hun?" El asked.
"I don't know, but something bad is going to happen." Peter said.
"Well, you better be extra careful then." She said, "I love you, hun." She straightened his tie as he walked out the door.
Peter knocked on Neal's door and figured out why he had the vague sense of impending doom.
There on Neal's kitchen table sat a baby duck.
Peter's eyes got really wide and he sucked in his breath a visceral reaction of fear.
"No." Peter declared. "No ducks, ducks do not belong in the FBI."
"What are you talking about?” Dick said, giving Peter a strange look.
Peter pointed at the small, cute defenseless duck sitting on the table and started ranting.
“Ducks do not get to go to the FBI, they do not get sporks, and they do not get to take down criminals with said sporks while riding on a roomba.” Peter was practically spitting at the end of his rant.
“Are you feeling ok, Peter?” Dick asked.
“Just answer me one thing right now Neal.” Peter begged.
“Yeah, of course, what do you need?” Dick was starting to get a little concerned for his friend.
“Is there or is there not a Duck on your kitchen table?”
Dick looked over at the table.
His kitchen table where there sat a tiny little fluffy duckling tilting its head to look at the two men.
“A duck you said?” Dick looked at the table confused.
“Why in the world is there a duck on my table?” Dick asked.
“You mean it’s not supposed to be there?”
“Well there wasn’t a duck there before…” Dick trailed off as the Duck started to quack at him.
“Oh, Little J, I didn’t know you were coming over.” Dick started talking to the duck. He held out his hand and the duck hopped up onto his palm.
“You’re coming with me today?” Dick put the duck in his breast pocket. “Alright me and Jarro are ready to go, Peter.”
Peter let out a hopeless whimper.
He did not like this at all. But they still had paperwork on file for Neal to have an emotional support duck. So once again Peter gave up and allowed the duck to come with them. At least this time there were no arguments about weaponry.
Neal and Peter walked to the office and people started to stare at them. Agent Green shuddered and dropped his files, Agent Smith crossed herself to ward off Demons. Neal couldn't figure out why everyone else was reacting like they had been invaded by creatures from hell.
Neal put Little J on the corner of his desk, pulled out his papers and started working on a few cases that they had going on this week.
“Neal, why is there a duck on your desk, again?” Diana asked.
“What do you mean?” Neal asked, why did everyone keep muttering about ducks?
“That right there,” she said, pointing to his brother.
Understanding finally dawned on Dick.
“Jar, what did you do?” Neal looked at the desk.
“Quack quack.” the figure responded.
“Why in the world would you do that? Why wouldn’t you just try to look like me instead?”
“Quack.”
The office was once again watching their Criminal informant lose his mind ‘talking’ to ducks. Peter was really starting to wonder if Neal was all there or not.
“Because the last ‘sibling’ to come visit me was Little D when he got magic-ed by Klarion. So everybody in the office is seeing you as a baby duckling, not my kid brother.” Neal ran his hand over his face.
“Quack”
“I mean it’s up to you if you want them to see your real form or change to be human or stay a duck. At least now I know why Agent Smith acted like they thought the devil was after them. I really should get Little D to apologize to them.” Neal trailed off into vague muttering.
“What a min…You’re related to ducks??”
“Well they are adopted.”