A/N: More 'stuff Mune never posted'.

Yeah, this is based off the flashback in Clash Reunion. And, also, is pretty much going on the assumption on my part that Elmo and Drake were friends. Admittedly, there's not any evidence for this but I like the idea regardless.

Oh, and I'm also using the theory that the nickname 'Sparky' originally came from his last name, Sputterspark, rather than simply his electrical powers. Simply a coincidence that the nickname ended up fitting him in both phases of his life.

Disclaimer: Don't own Darkwing Duck.

The bell had long ago rung and, predictably, the hall was deserted besides two friends walking together. It was a fairly average scene. Well, except for the fact that the mallard kept making suspicious glances at the rat beside him, as though he had committed some grievous breach of trust. The rodent's somewhat guilty expression only confirmed as much, not to mention that he seemed intent on avoiding the duck's gaze. Though, perhaps he couldn't be blamed for that; his friend's look was so piercing it was a wonder he hadn't been skewered.

"Soooo," the duck finally spat out, deciding that he could no longer take the silence. His eyes were narrowed and his expression annoyed. "Thought you were gonna get away with it, did you? Thought I wouldn't remember, huh!?" Abruptly, he rounded on the rat, blocking him from moving in front of him. It didn't appear as though he would have continued even if he could have, however. He was staggered by the accusation.

"Get… get away with it?" he repeated, brows furrowed in dismay as his pal interrogated him.

"That's right!" the mallard shouted, raising his hands above his head to illustrate just how right it was. "Thought you could pull one over on me!" he accused, pointing at the other. "Weee-heell, it takes just a little more than that to trick Drake Mallard!" He gave a nod to confirm his own thoughts and crossed his arms, awaiting a response.

Drake didn't get one. His friend merely stood there, displaying spectacular shades of confusion, guilt, and exasperation. Groaning, the duck moved in closer. "This is the part where you admit to your crime, Mo!" he hissed angrily.

"…Crime?" Mo repeated, blinking. "What crime?" He frowned, trying to think of any possible infractions against the law he'd committed. "The only time I've ever committed a crime was when I was ten, and stole a malted melt ball from a grocery store." The response was slow and thoughtful. After all, Drake was apparently quite serious about this.

"This isn't about – wait, you stole something?"

Elmo gave a curt nod, but was quick to dismiss the entire subject. "But I sincerely doubt this is about something I did when I barely even knew you," he concluded easily, yet did not continue as to what he did believe this little situation was about.

"Er, yeah, it's not," Drake agreed dumbly, theatrics temporarily put on hold from the new information he had received. It was just that shocking. Shaking his head, he attempted to pull himself back together. "Okay, okay, maybe crime was putting it a bit harshly. But… but it was still an infraction of justice!" he yelled, but there was a clear doubt in the tone. "Tantamount to treason, even!"

"Treason? Certainly it wasn't that bad," Mo insisted quietly, before realizing what he had apparently admitted to and backing up slightly.

"AH-HA!" Drake exclaimed triumphantly. "So you admit to it! I knew it! Nothing escapes my keen attention to detail!" Taking a moment to bask in the greatness of his own deductive reasoning, he finally asked. "So, why'd you do it? Why'd you tweak my beak?"

"Uh… sorry. …It just seemed so… tweakable?" Mo responded weakly, giving his friend a pacifying smile. Really, he hadn't thought that he would have remembered it. Drake had been hypnotized. And, besides, he always had wanted to do that.

Drake scoffed at this, "'Tweakability' is no excuse for treachery, Elmo!" he replied, shaking his head at the perceived lawlessness of the one before him. Suddenly, mid shake, he stopped. Slowly, he brought it to face forward again. There was a sly smile on his face. "Or should I say 'Sparky'?"

Elmo bristled, any words that were being prepared for his defense immediately gone. He scowled at the duck, "You know I don't like being called that," he muttered.

"And you know I don't like having my beak tweaked!" Drake huffed, once again crossing his arms over his chest before he faced away.

There, the two stood in silence for what seemed like ages. The emptiness of the halls made the silence between them nearly deafening. Finally, Drake chanced to look behind him. Elmo was glaring at the back of his head, apparently still rather perturbed by the name. Perhaps it had been a low blow…

Clearing his throat, he whipped around. "…So, I guess that means we're even now?" Drake questioned, laughing nervously at the look of dead seriousness on the other's face. Okay… maybe he had gone too far?

Elmo said nothing, but merely drew himself right up next to mallard. The two exchanged severe glances for a tense minute before – sproing. Drake's beak bobbed up and down as Mo's hands pushed down onto it. "Now we're even," he conceded with a small smile, as he began walking away from the shell-shocked duck.

Drake's hands flew up to his beak, to keep it from flapping. "H-hey! How does two beak tweaks equal one 'Sparky'?!" he called indignantly after his friend's back.