A/N: So this would be my first fanfiction. Um, so first off: All of this is based on an A/U that I've been planning for some time now. It is originally a comic so these one-shots are the things that happen in-between story arcs. And other than the usual disclaimer, which is Darkwing Duck originally belongs to Disney and Tad Stone and I'm making absolutely no profit by doing this, that's about it.

Between the Lines

The first order that was issued upon their arrival at the new hideout was that the dilapidated building - an old warehouse, of course-be cleaned from floor to ceiling and corner to corner. If so much as a speck of dust, grime or mold was found, some random body part was going to be lopped off and then used to wipe up the bloody mess it left.

Well, that's what Negaduck had said, anyway. She had yet to see him follow through with that particular threat.

Gosalyn wasn't sure when her father had become such a neat freak. When she was younger and still living in the run down house on Avian Way back in the Negaverse, Negaduck would gripe and rant about the state of the house when it was spotless.

"What the hell? A welcome rug! Are you serious? Does it look like I wanna welcome anyone here?"

"I just thought—"

"Where's my beer can collection? Oh I swear—"Gasp.

"What?"

Pause. "My favorite blood stain, the only reminder of my very first kill in this hell hole and you BLEACHED IT!"

"Hehe, whoops?"

She shuddered, waving that particular memory away. Instead, she thought back to the very last time she'd cleaned the house. His threats had done nothing to dissuade from cleaning. He hardly went through with them, at least as far as she was concern. He had never laid a hand on her. And while she disliked making him angry, she despised the build up of dirt and grime in her home more. At the time, he hadn't really been around. For a while, she believed he had abandoned her; he hadn't returned from the Normalverse for some time. Even Launchpad had left, taking off after some ex-girlfriend of his who lived in Duckburg.

So Gosalyn made the house her own, repairing it, painting it. She found some cash in the disgruntled mallard's bedroom (shoved under a mattress, of all places) and used it to buy new furniture. No one ever bothered to question the then twelve year old where her parents were or how she had gotten the money to buy her new things. The few who did received an icy stare and equally icy reply that her father was Lord Negaduck. That got them to shut up and for the first time in her life, she didn't feel bad about rude. Two years went by and she had gotten use to the solitude. The Friendly Four didn't bother to come check on her; they disapproved of her tactics, using her caretaker's name to instill fear. Morgana visited every few weeks, just to make sure she was doing alright. Gosalyn would spend an hour trying to convince her she was fine on her own and the witch would always leave with a sad smile after hiding a few twenties under the Basil figurine in the living room.

So she was more than a little surprised when Negaduck turned up at the door. In fact, she had just finished washing dishes when he had arrived, kicking in the door and announcing his arrival with a throaty growl.

Two steps into the house, he'd lost it.

He barked an order at her to dirty up the place again. When she refused, he did it himself, stomping back outside and ripping out wilted rose bushes and clumps of brown grass and whatever else he could find to fling on the carpet and walls. For good measure, he wiped his hands on the pink skirt of her dress and mussed up her red curls after smearing the walls with mud. It had been the first time she had ever been angry enough with him that she snatched the hat off his head, ran outside and threw it into the first puddle she stumbled across. Unfortunately, he felt the need to tackle her at the exact same moment and her already dirtied dress was ruined beyond repair.

Gosalyn smiled softly. She had gotten a shopping trip out of the whole ordeal, though; the older mallard had claimed it was because he couldn't have some scrawny thing in rags living in his house. Not because he had ruined the only decent outfit she had and felt actual remorse, but because he had appearances to keep up. Either way, a new wardrobe filled with pinks, purples and blues that made Negaduck seethe and sulk sat in her closet now. She grinned. Sure, it had been a little passive aggressive, but it was still some sort of vengeance for the destruction of her favorite pink dress. She hadn't lived with him for all these years without picking up on a few things, after all.

Still, it made no sense. Why bother keeping a run down building clean? Especially when they were constantly relocating thanks partially to the city's self-appointed masked defender and partially to the destructive nature of Negaduck's tantrums because of the same do-gooder. In her eyes, it was a waste of time. In a week or so, they would be moving again. She was sure of it.

But he had kept up the routine for a few months now. Gosalyn frowned thoughtfully. Come to think of it…the need for a clean hideout had started up around the same time he had started bringing her along on his trips outside the Negaverse. Then baby Parker popped into the picture and the crime lord became even more tidy. But he couldn't possibly be doing it for them. That was ridiculous. He didn't really care…

…Right?

A sharp whistle broke through her reverie. Gosalyn turned her head in time to see the subject of her thoughts marching up to her, a squirming duckling under his right arm. She noted the soft blue wash cloth that was placed haphazardly over Negaduck's shoulder and an empty bottle in his free hand. The wash cloth was stained with what she guessed was drool and milk. As he grew closer, she noticed his cape and part of his jacket had been stained as well. Surprisingly, he didn't seem any more angry than usual.

"Take 'im to the park." he growled as he handed the child off to her. He turned away to look at the large open space, shaking off the wash cloth in the process. Gosalyn only smiled, cradling the eight month old carefully. Her eyes flicked up in time to see Megavolt and Bushroot trudging by, trash bags slung over their shoulders. A little way beyond them, Liquidator was washing windows while Quackerjack swept (or at least, made it seem that way).

"These losers are gonna take all day to clean this place and I don't need him or you getting in the way. I should have hired that Ammonia Pine broad to do it…" he growled.

Negaduck turned his head to look at her again. "Well?"

"What time should I bring him back?" she replied softly as the baby wrapped his hand around her long fingers, babbling happily.

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Pfft. What do I care? If ya can't find some desperate couple to sell him to by three, then bring the little ankle-biter back."

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, rocking the baby back and forth. "His stroller?"

"It's over by the front door. Don't forget the camera. Maybe we can sell him on Craig's List if you can get some decent shots," he murmured distractedly before cupping his hands around his bill and bellowing. "Hey, dumb-asses! I'd like the floor clean enough to eat off in this century! Hurry it up!"

At this, a delighted squeal came from the baby. Gosalyn simply shook her head. Why Parker enjoyed hearing their father yell and cuss and threaten the rest of the Fearsome Five was beyond her. It had taken her several months to get use to that gruff voice and even longer to learn to let the insults roll off her back. But the infant actually enjoyed it.

Negaduck's head snapped over to look at him, a forced frown on his face that made Gosalyn want to laugh. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get going," he snarled.

"Yes, sir," she replied. She smiled sweetly, readjusting Parker against her hip and turned away. The baby released a dry cough suddenly. She paused for a moment to rub his back. He sniffled and his head dropped to rest against her shoulder as he pouted and whimpered miserably.

"Poor baby," she cooed comfortingly, bouncing him lightly as she headed toward the door. With her back turned, she failed to see an unfamiliar emotion flit across her father's face: panic.

She winced as she and the baby exited the warehouse; the sound of wood splintering against the concrete floor and sharp shrieks of terror from the four other men in the warehouse could only mean Negs was on the warpath now. Gosalyn sighed, readjusting the baby on her hip, only half listening to the bellowing coming from inside. It wasn't anything new. He was impatient like always and his impatience usually led to irritation and irritation to irrational anger. That was just the way it was.

Her head snapped up suddenly and she turned to stare at the warehouse door with wide eyes. For a split second, she swore he had heard Negaduck call her and Parker 'his brats' during his tirade…