Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!
Title: Cuss Me Out Once, Shame On You
Summary: Louie's the triplet who stayed. Huey and Dewey might be off adventuring or getting kidnapped by pirates or whatever, but he's quite happy as an accountant working under Ma Beagle. But with Dewey's ex leaving an egg on his doorstep, Webby crashing at his apartment, and Lena acting stranger than ever, he might just be in for an adventure all his own.
...
At twenty five, Louie stood as tall as Gladstone, though he had a knack of slumping without meaning to. Puberty had gifted him with the same feathery sideburns of his Great Uncle, though it was less of a gift and more of a punch to the face. They were slightly longer, mostly due to his bad habit of pulling on them in stressful situations, and much more thin and ragged because of it. He also had Scrooge's patented scowl, which was definitely more of a gift than the sideburns.
Louie closed his bathroom mirror, tipping his head back to swallow his meds. Down the hatch. That done, he turned back to his phone with the same simpering tone he used on basically anyone who didn't know him. "I'll be there in half an hour, Miss Ma, don't you worry. But I am going to have to charge you overtime."
Ma Beagle's voice was even gruffer over the phone. "Fuck's sake, Lou-Lou. Just get yer butt to the junkyard already."
"Yes, ma'am."
Louie stuck his toothbrush into his beak as he wandered down the hall, opening the door to Webby's room. Technically, it was the guest bedroom, but the woman had been using it the past two months, so it was basically her's. Blankets were flung about the mattress, leaving Webby half covered and half uncovered. She was sprawled on her back and snoring louder than a freight train.
Louie kicked the edge of the bed. "Webs. Webby? Webbigail?" Nothing. He sighed and popped the brush out of his bill. "It is I, your secret twin sibling, here to murder you and take your place."
"I always knew this day would come," Webby quipped as she sleepily sat up. She was shorter than Louie, with the same broad-shouldered build of her grandmother. Her sense of style hadn't changed much over the years, save for the pearl necklace she wore almost constantly, a centaur horn dangling from one of its many strings. She opened one eye to examine him. "What're you doing up? It's Sunday."
"Surprise work."
Webby blinked once, then reached up to wipe the crust out of her eyes. "Did Bigtime steal the wrong bank van again?"
"Actually," said Louie mildly. "He forgot the brake. Fudger went right into the ocean."
"You're kidding me."
"That's what I said when Ma told me."
On the weekends, Louie preferred his usual hoodie. Some days, when he felt particularly cold, he would even scrounge up some sweatpants. But work was a different beast entirely for the duck, and he hated the thought of its evils seeping into his favorite outfit. Instead, he wore a thin white work shirt, slightly wrinkled, and a green clip-on tie. He tugged on one of the sleeves while he waited for his poptarts to toast, then said goodbye with a hug and kiss, all smiles.
It wasn't easy for Louie to pretend to be so chipper, especially when he wasn't even used to being awake that early, and as soon as he was out of Webby's range he went right back to slumping, shuffling into the elevator with no real joy. "Fuuuuccckkkk, I hate work. I hate life and I hate Sundays and I hate fucking worrrrkkkkkk."
"Same," a fellow apartment tenant said, busy on his phone. "Which floor?"
Louie was an accountant. That's the long and short of it all. He just happened to be the personal accountant of Ma Beagle.
It's an easy job. Show up, count the cash, mingle with Ma's multitude of sons, then head home. It'd gotten him a nice apartment and a menagerie of connections throughout Duckburg and beyond. Being a relative of the deceased Scrooge McDuck made that bonus even sweeter, his bloodline earning him a kind of respect just being an accountant couldn't.
But it had an equal amount of downsides. The illegal nature of his employers meant he had to be pretty persistent to get the money he felt he deserved, checking and double-checking to make sure he hadn't been scammed. It was a pesky annoyance, especially when his boss is in jail on payday.
There's also his coworker, a rather infamous Lena De Spell.
Lena was more than a coworker, of course. She was a long-time friend, and Webby's girlfriend. She had potions out the ears, from subduing your enemies with slinky snakes to curing colds. She was almost twice his height, thin as a stick, and she still had her old troublesome ways that typically had Louie following her lead, if only for a bit of fun.
But that didn't change the fact that she was the reason Webby was sleeping in his apartment right now, so he made sure to spit a "Good morning, fucker." her way as he approached the junkyard, meeting her at the front gate.
"Morning to you too, jackass," she responded, but held the door open for him nonetheless.
Ironically, Ma Beagle had perhaps aged the best out of everyone Louie knew. Hardly a single hair on her pelt had gotten gray since Scrooge's passing- if anything, living past her rival had rejuvenated her, putting a skip in her step. Granted, that step wasn't very visible now, her cane pressed against Bigtime's neck, hand curled in the fabric of his Beagle Boy shirt, but Louie would almost bet money on it any other day.
"Lou-Lou!" Ma dropped the boy like hot coal, leaning on said cane. "So good of you to come."
"I'm here too," Lena added.
"I hate yer guts, De Spell," the dog told her, not for the first time. "Lou-Lou, you were always my favorite son."
Louie's beak wrinkled. "I'm not your kid."
She poked him in the chest. "So you'll do yer Ma proud and fix this, won'tcha?"
"Again. Not your son."
"Do it or you're fired."
"Love you too, Miss Ma." He sent her finger guns, grabbing Lena's wrist. "The usual spot?"
"Yup. Gimme a minute and I'll join ya'." She spared the cowering Bigtime a nasty look. "I'd like to have a word with my son first."
"Okay, just for clarification," Louie said. "Are you talking about me or about Bigtime?"
Ma heaved a great sigh, shaking her head. "Get in the house, Lou-Lou."
"I'm just sayin', man," Lena defended, chugging half her glass of apple juice in one go. "We've had a rough year. Peru was a bust, Ma got caught on her birthday, and now this. We're only halfway through! We gotta do somethin' big."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," he said, unconvinced, as he poured himself a glass. "And who here, pray tell, do you think has the ability to pull something like that off?"
She barked out a laugh. "You'd be surprised what a person can do with the right magic."
"Maybe, but your magic is shit."
Lena frowned. The glow in her eyes faded. "Are you doubting me?"
Louie blinked at her, surprised. She'd never been sensitive about her lack of skill before now. He opened his mouth, intending to ask if she was okay, then closed his teeth around the sentiment, remembering that he was still mad at her.
Suddenly, she shook herself. "Whatever. Nevermind. We all know damn well the boys'll do anything for Ma. She's just gotta point and they'll go."
"Going isn't the same as getting."
"You have a better idea, Louis?"
Louie held up his hands. "I completely agree with the concept, but my whole job is to look out for the financial well-being of Miss Ma and her family. If we can't be certain this'll go well, there's no point."
Lena bent at the waist, setting the glass down on the wood table. "So you'd rather survive off the scraps?" she demanded quietly. Louie bristled. "C'mon, Duck. Work with me here."
"You're in a mood," he accused, brow furrowing.
"I didn't sleep well," she admitted with a shrug. Her usual eye shadow covered the clue to this little fact rather well.
"Miss your bed-buddy, did we?"
"If you must know, I'm heading straight for a crash, and I always sleep like shit when I do." She smacked her lips, the words bitter. Lena was never one to discuss these sorts of things- unlike Louie, who was far more open about it. "Also, that's a super low blow, asshole."
"You were the one who kicked my dearest friend out."
"I didn't kick Webby out. The apartments in her name, for fuck's sake."
Louie rolled his eyes. "Right. Like you have anywhere you could go."
"I can kick it just fine on my own, thank you very much."
"You know that, and I know that, but we both also know that Webby's too nice to let you do that."
Lena's eyes narrowed. She stood up and reached over the table to grab the front of his shirt, pulling him closer with a grunt of exertion. Louie let her, mostly because he was too lazy to move. They had a deeply anime moment where they glared at each other, teeth slightly bared, waiting for something to give.
That 'something' was Ma Beagle, who kicked open the door to her trailer. "I am so ready to kick that boy to the curb," she grumbled. Ma caught sight of them and frowned even more severely. "Kids, are you wrasslin' in my home?"
"Yes."
"Pretty much."
"Well, don't. I just cleaned the place."
They exchanged a glance. Lena and Louie both slowly withdrew to their chairs, pouting. Lena poured and gulped down another glass of apple juice.
"Alrighty," Louie said awkwardly. "Back to work, then."
Lena, eyebrows raised, handed him the bottle.
Author's Note: I've had this idea for a while now, and it's gone under A LOT of change as time has gone on, but the running theme hasn't changed- Louie and Webby getting stuck with an egg. Should be fun!
-Mandaree1
