Title: Family Ties

Author's Note: Alright, so for those of you diving into this story, there is a few things you need to know. First off, in this story, which is meant to take place years in the future after 'Ducktales', Scrooge McDuck and Fenton Crackshell, after a year of dating, are married. At this point in the story, the two of them have been married a month. So, in case it hasn't sunk in yet, this is a McCrack story. As in, slash. Scrooge/Fenton.

Secondly, credit for this chapter/story also goes to SnarkN'Moon, for she helped with some of the dialogue and the creation of the original character of ours, Doran Crackshell. He is our interpretation of Fenton's unseen/unmentioned father. We came up with the idea that he left Fenton and his mother when Fenton was small.

Doran Crackshell (c) EricaX and SnarkN'Moon

Everything else (c) Disney

ENJOY!

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32 Years Ago

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The little coos of a newborn infant could be heard throughout the apartment as Iva Crackshell held her newly hatched son closely. The little chick wriggled in her arms and the blankets he was tucked into and instinctively moved closer to her for warmth.

Iva sighed deeply, glancing around at her surroundings. The small apartment her and her husband had managed to cling onto rent after rent had seen better days. The last few months had been rough and now that little Fenton has hatched, she didn't see herself having any kind of time. It didn't help they were behind on rent by three months. It seemed she was just waiting for the eviction notice.

Everything was just in a cluttered mess, clothes tossed, boxes half empty and filled with nick knacks and odds and ends. Old newspapers littered the floor. The table in front of the couch was piled with old dishes that needed to be taken to the full sink.

She knew her appearance wasn't much better. Her curly blonde hair was uncombed and dangling past her shoulders. She was dressed in a loose purple shirt and her slippers were mismatched. She badly needed to run a brush through her hair and maybe some clips. And she knew she had a day's old worth of make-up still on her face since she had forgotten to take it off the night before.

Fenton made a little gurgling noise as a bubble of spit appeared around his tiny beak, snapping Iva out of her thoughts. She couldn't help but smile at the little boy; her thoughts turning happier as she watched him blink back at him with big blue eyes. She used the blanket to wipe at his mouth.

It was a shame Doran was not around, Iva thought. He had missed Fenton's hatching. The little boy had hatched from his egg earlier that morning.

As if on cue, the door to the apartment opened and in stomped a middle aged duck who was soaking wet due to the rain storm that was currently happening.

"Whew!" hooted the duck with a half chuckle. He whipped his head a bit to wipe the excess water from his feathers. He was a tall duck with white plumage and the very beginnings of a beard around his chin. His clothes were heavily worn, as though it was the only thing he owned. It was a short sleeved red shirt and a green army vest. "It is raining cats and dogs out there!"

Iva frowned at her husband. "Doran! Where have you been!? You haven't been home in two days!"

Doran blinked at his wife who was sitting on the couch in front of him. "Huh? Oh, oh! Right! I was out."

This only worsened Iva's mood. "I gathered that much, you idiot!"

Doran shrugged off his vest, leaving him only in his red shirt. As he walked closer to his wife, his eyes landed on the little hatchling in Iva's arms. "Oh! And what have we here?" He asked fondly.

"Our son" replied Iva evenly. Her voice was bordering on contempt. "He hatched this morning." Her voice then raised to a higher level as she freed one of her arms from holding Fenton and slapped Doran hard on the shoulder. "You missed our son's hatching!"

Doran flinched and scooted away from his clearly angry wife. "Sorry! I didn't know he was going to hatch this morning!"

"Neither did I, but what did you expect? You knew he would hatch any day and you went and disappeared!" cried Iva, adjusting Fenton so that she was holding him with both arms once again.

"Iva, dearest, you know how claustrophobic I get if I spent too much inside! And I've either been here or working at the factory! I needed some space!" defended the now pouting duck.

"For two days? Where did you even go?" groused Iva.

Doran shrugged. "You know. Out."

Iva rolled her eyes and groaned, holding Fenton closer to her chest. She turned down to the infant in her arms and couldn't help but smile at him. He was snuggled in soft blue blankets, making him look even cuter.

Doran's attention finally turned to his son as he leaned over to peer down at him. "He's cute, that's for sure. Looks like he's got my eyes! And my beak!"

Iva huffed. "Better than your father's beak."

Doran's eyes widened in horror at the thought of his son looking like his grandfather. "Blathering blatherskite! Would THAT have been a disaster!"

Iva shook her head. "Why do you insist of saying that phrase?"

Not needing to ask what she was referring to, Doran shrugged. "I don't know. They're just fun words..." he trailed off.

"Whatever" she mumbled. Iva then adjusted her position on the couch. "Now look. We're parents now. Which means we've got new responsibilities! There will be no more leaving for two days without so much as a note. We have to be here for Fenton! He needs us now and it'll take up most of our time."

Doran nodded distantly. "May I hold him?" he asked as though her words didn't fully register with him.

With an annoyed huff, Iva slowly and gently handed over their now sleeping son to Doran. Doran beamed down at his son. "Hey there, little feller!" he greeted. Fenton's tiny eyebrows scrunched together as he wriggled in his sleep to get more comfortable. It was as though he knew he was no longer in his mother's arms. Doran slowly rocked him back and forth. "I'm your papa! And even though I missed ya hatching from yer egg, I promise from this point on, I'll always be there for you! I'm gonna be a great dad for ya!"

The two new parents continued to sit there quietly watching their son sleep.

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Present Day

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Birds chirped outside the windows of McDuck Manor as bright rays of sunshine filtered through the windows facing the East. Everyone in the mansion were still sleeping, though thanks to sunshine now illuminating Scrooge McDuck's face, that was about to change.

Scrooge squinted as the offending light blinded him even with his eyelids closed. He turned away and tried to hide his face in his pillow; his little cotton sleeping hat falling off his head in the process. With a light grunt, he tried to cling to the last remaining remnants of sleep, but sadly the sun's rays had done their job and woken the generally early riser.

Cracking his straining eyes open, he looked out the window with disdain. The old mallard didn't need his glasses to know it was time to wake up. With a flop against his own pillow, Scrooge reached an arm out to shake the lump of fuchsia sheets next to him.

"Alright, lad, it's time t'wake up," Scrooge said in a deep sleepy voice. He fought back a yawn, his own eyelids already growing heavy. "Today's a work day, there's things to do."

The lump of sheets slowly stirred and a soft groaning sound was heard. "Five more minutes..." mumbled a half asleep Fenton Crackshell.

As tempting as that sounded to the older duck, he found himself shaking his head. "Cannea do that and you know it. Time is money...My money."

More groaning could be heard but Scrooge's words seemed to be working, for the sheets moved upward and then fell down to reveal Fenton suffering from severe bed head: his hair pushed all to one side.

"Alright, alright, I'm up. It feels criminal to be, but I'm moving!" The middle aged duck said this with a stretch, his back popping, until finally he was on his feet. He scratched his covered stomach, his onsie spaceship pajamas more fitting for a child than a thirty-two year old.

The accountant leaned against the bed, legs still touching the floor as Fenton's upper torso crawled its way to the short distance where his hubby laid.

Scrooge watched him with a lightly amused smile as Fenton leaned in.

"Mmm, good morning, Scroogey."

"Hmm...good morning to you too, Fenton" replied Scrooge as he stretched his own fatigued limbs. He pushed the remaining covers off and scooted closer to the younger duck, closing the remaining distance between them. He and Fenton shared a quick kiss before Scrooge reached over and grabbed his glasses and sat them on the end of his beak. He then stood and gave a soft yawn.

The kiss was enough to jolt Fenton awake, as he sprung to life. With a silly grin plastered on his face, he dashed towards the bathroom to quickly get through his morning routines.

Scrooge, while awake and having a quiet moment, took his time as he walked towards his wardrobe where his usual attire was waiting for him.

"What all DO we have going on today?" Fenton yelled from the bathroom, just as the older mallard finished laying everything he planned on wearing out on the bed. "I balanced the books yesterday, and I don't RECALL having any booked Gizmoduck special appearances happening today neither."

A sound of a flush and a quick hand wash and the younger duck returned, making his own way towards the wardrobe. He glanced at Scrooge who was still standing next to the bed and pulling at the wrinkles in his outfit.

Scrooge had yet to reply and it didn't seem like he was going to.

"Hmm..." pondered Fenton out loud, unfazed by the older duck's silence. "It's always so hard to choose what to wear..."

This finally gained a reaction out of Scrooge, who rolled his eyes.

"I hardly think it's much of a choice- All your suits look the same, ye dingus."

Fenton blushed and laughed nervously. "Yeah, but do I wear my 'lucky' suit or do I wear my 'let's have a good day today' suit? Big decisions, Scroogey!"

Scrooge narrowed his eyes. "You've named all your clothes?"

"Sure! Doesn't everyone?" asked Fenton as he pulled out one of his lavender jackets.

Scrooge didn't bother gracing him with an answer, instead he yawned and headed into the bathroom to do his own morning routine.

Fenton hummed to himself as he climbed out of his onesie and changed into his suit. He adjusted his tie the best he could, looking at it in the mirror to help him. After a moment he called out to Scrooge so the older mallard could hear him from inside the bathroom. "What do you want for breakfast this morning, Scroogey? Eggs and bacon or pancakes?"

The sound of flushing came again, along with the sound of someone washing their hands. Scrooge then stepped out, a towel in his hands for he was still drying them. "Pancakes. But how many times must I tell ya? Mrs. Beakley can make us breakfast. Ya don't have to. We've got other things to get ready for."

Fenton reached his arms out in emphasis. "But I LOVE cooking you breakfast! Besides! You want pancakes! Pancakes are EASY and take such little time!"

Scrooge just turned away and focused on changing. He knew arguing with the duck required more energy than he currently possessed. "Your buttons are uneven" he mumbled instead, referring to the dress shirt underneath Fenton's lavender jacket.

Fenton looked down and moved his tie for a better view. "Ack!" he cried out before quickly setting out to fix the problem. He unbuttoned his shirt and began to re-button it as Scrooge changed out of his night gown and into his own clothes.

Fenton was just finishing up the buttons on his shirt when Scrooge hopped onto the bed so that he could place his red spats on his webbed feet.

"Now" began Scrooge with an air of authority. "This week my cotton factory is being audited. Meaning all my employees there are gonna be panicking. I've already been in touch with the supervisor there and evidently their records are a mess. So I will be on the phone a good portion of the day. Not to mention, I will most likely have to go down there in person, meself."

Fenton nodded, having finished fixing his shirt. "This the same factory that gave you problems last fall?"

Scrooge nodded. "Aye. The place nearly went bankrupt due to poor organization." The old mallard scowled. "Not on MY watch!"

Fenton smiled, knowing how well Scrooge hated to loose so much as a penny for any reason.

Scrooge got up from the bed with a small bounce and stood before Fenton, his eyes instantly going to Fenton's disheveled tie. Nimble hands got straight to work in fixing it. Scrooge untwisted the tie, moving around the back of Fenton's collar and neck to do it as he continued, "So, I want you to cover the financial end of things. I will be sending you the company's fund reports and I want you to look over those files like yer life depends on it! I want to know why that company is givin' me so much trouble! They're far from bankrupt now, to be sure, but those numbers are still off! I'm counting on YOU to figure out why!"

Fenton grinned widely, going as far as saluting and making Scrooge stumble into him slightly due to the sudden jerking motion since the older duck was still holding onto his tie.

Scrooge scowled lightly, yet said nothing as he placed on hand on Fenton's chest for support. He made quick work of Fenton's tie and after a moment of inspection, was satisfied. He then looked over the rest of his younger husband, taking in every detail of his appearance. His eyes started up, went down, then up again. "There ya are, lad. Ya look good!"

Fenton blushed. "Ya say such nice things when ya want to, Scroogey!"

Scrooge then took both his hands and fluffed the feathers on Fenton's cheeks, smiling as he did so. "Can't have ya goin' around makin' me look bad, now."

Fenton chuckled. "I could never make you look bad, Scroogey, my love!" With a turn of his heel, Fenton started to head for the door to their bedroom, yet his foot caught the underside of the carpet at his feet, sending him landing on the floor with a thud.

Scrooge just stared down at the fallen duck. "Ugh...bless me bagpipes, lad. You're hopeless"he deadpanned. Knowing his husband; who was already in the process of getting up, was fine, he walked past him and headed out the door. Scrooge made sure to grab his top hat before though.

Fenton laughed it off, brushing himself off as he followed after Scrooge. "I meant to do that! You know, as an example of-If I DID make you look bad-That'd be one of the ways-Cause you know-I may have done that one or two times already in public-" He said as they went into the hallway, his voice echoing slightly. "But let me ya-That was all just off chance occurrences! Why-"

"Fenton?"

"Yeah, Scroogey?"

"Shut up."

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"Six pancakes for the apple of my eye, the love of my life!" cheered Fenton twenty minutes later as the two of them prepared to eat breakfast in the kitchen.

Scrooge had settled himself in the bright sunny rounded love seat that was nestled to the side of the kitchen. He was too busy reading the business section of the newspaper to really hear what Fenton was babbling on about.

Fenton placed the stack of pancakes in front of Scrooge, who glanced at the intrusion of his reading, instantly smiling at the sight of food.

The triplets, Huey, Dewey, and Louie; along with little Webby, had already been heralded off to school by Duckworth, who had just arrived back from his trip.

"Any more orange juice, sir?" asked the butler, a pitcher of juice in his hand.

"No, thank you, Duckworth" replied Scrooge distractedly as he bit into his pancakes. His eyes turned up to Fenton, who was still prancing around the kitchen. "Fenton! Sit down and eat yer breakfast! How many times must I tell you-This is why I have Mrs. Beakley and Duckworth around! They'll help out with everything in the kitchen. You just sit your tail feathers down and eat so we can proceed with today!"

"Oh, he's no bother at all, Mr. McDuck!" said Mrs. Beakley sweetly. "If anything, I've learned quite a few cooking techniques from him!"

Fenton beamed at her praise. "Aww, shucks, Mrs. Beakley!"

Scrooge huffed, clearly unimpressed. "Just eat!"

After several moments of silence and after finally wrangling Fenton to sit next to him and eat, the door bell rang.

Ever since being an official member of the household, Fenton had developed a strange compulsion to always answer the door. This was no exception. Despite the fact that Duckworth had already long since left the kitchen to attend to his other chores and was therefore closer to answer the door, Fenton dropped his fork and ran to the front door to answer it; leaving an annoyed Scrooge in his wake.

"Youngin's" growled the rich duck as he turned back to reading his newspaper.

Duckworth was already at the door when Fenton arrived, slightly out of breath. The younger duck came to a stop just before the door. "Mr. Crackshell-As I tell you every time-It's not necessary you come to answer the door. That's my job."

Fenton guffawed at the butler. "I know, I know! I just enjoy answering the door!"

Without further ado, Fenton grabbed the door knob and did just that. He swung the large oak door open and peered outside with excitement. His eyes landed on a very scruffy looking duck who was the same height and build as himself. The duck looked oddly familiar and this alone caused a shiver to go up his spine.

The duck on the other side of the door was wearing a torn long sleeved red shirt and a thin, heavily worn sleeveless vest with an assortment of pockets that looked overstuffed. A matching green fishing hat sat on top of his head and a toothpick was sticking out of his beak. Around his jaw was a scraggly, uneven beard.

Fenton just stared at the visitor.

When it was clear Fenton wasn't going to give him any kind of greeting, the other duck said, "Why, hello there! Blatherin' Blatherskite! I'll be darned! You must be him!"

Fenton just blinked at the duck, his hand still gripping the oak door. At the infamous words he used at a constant basis, there was no doubt in the accountant's mind just who he was staring at.

"Fenton! Fenton Crackshell! It's me! You're ol' man! Doran Crackshell!" introduced Doran happily. "It's been a LONG time, son!" He raised his arms out as though expecting Fenton to give him a hug.

Fenton's whole being tensed up, his shoulders rising in alarm.

Duckworth took a step back after Fenton slammed the door on the duck who had just claimed to be the young duck's father.

There was a heavy silence before Doran could be heard on the other side of the door. "Uh...Hello?"

Fenton squeaked in alarm at the sound of his father's voice, his eyes wide in shock and fear. Without another sound, the accountant ran out of the foyer.

Before Duckworth could react any further, he heard Fenton call back in a high pitched and strangled voice, "DON'T LET THAT GUY IN!"

This left poor Duckworth staring after Fenton, having no idea what had just occurred.

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Author's Note: So, there is the first chapter to the story! Fenton's long lost father comes back into town and poor Fenton doesn't know how to handle it. Hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you for reading and please review! -EricaX