Lena felt alien as she came face to face with the lavish décor that filled out the block.

Interior decorators clearly had a blast or subsequently a nightmare at the various different wallpaper, flooring and trinkets that made the room stand out from a run-of-the-mill flat. Paintings, statues and pricey furniture were strewn across the room.

The hallway had been only a telltale sign of the room after it – the living room, blended with the kitchen which had a bar and only the most top-quality appliances, had a cushy couch, an arm chair and a flat screen TV with an electric fire sitting beneath it. It was decorated with gold and various reds, whilst the kitchen itself had milky-white and onyx coloured tiling. The windows were both wide and tall, overlooking the city of Duckburg with pride.

So far, there was only one word for Gladstone's place – expensive. Perhaps one more with the look on his face – expressive.

Gladstone walked over to the kitchen with a slightly smug expression on his face. Lena could see the arrogance dripping from it, and promptly rolled her eyes at such emotion. Of course. She was adopted by one of these people.

Still…

He pulled a bottle from the drink rack, as well as a sparkling glass from a cupboard. He poured out whatever content was in the bottle, and Lena watched with disapproval as he did.

After he'd joyfully finished pouring, he noted his adopted child's response to his action and supped the glass nonchalantly.

"You're drinking?"

He rolled his eyes slightly.

"It's sparkling water. Passionfruit, actually," he stated, then a small smile surfaced on his face as he gently shook the glass. "Want some?"

"No thanks," she responded curtly, scanning the other doors in the room. "Can you show me where my room is?"

It took him a moment to process, though he felt a little saddened when he had.

"Yeah," he replied, setting the glass down on the bar before walking towards one of the doors.

"I meant just point, but okay." Lena shrugged as she walked towards the door, whilst Gladstone stood awkwardly beside it. She opened the door to walk in, but before she did, he interjected.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help you unpack or anything… uh…"

"Lena," she responded with irritation, and she faced forward. "Unpack what?"

Gladstone saw the pack on her back, then sighed quietly as he turned away.

How had he missed that? Lena had come from somewhere so little to somewhere so big. He'd remembered asking specifically 'is that all you have?' when he'd gone to pick her up. The only thing she'd have to unpack is emotional baggage – and she wouldn't let him help unpack even that.

"Right…" he muttered, feeling slightly dejected. He readjusted his coat, then put on a smile. "Okay, well… I guess I'll give you a call when dinner comes around."

His smile stayed until the door was shut in his face, and he sighed in irritation, rubbing his temples as he walked towards the house phone.

"Nice. Great. You're welcome," he grumbled under his breath.

He was… frustrated. He'd only heard about how much she'd been through and couldn't dream of imagining it. He was trying to be nice to the kid, but she wasn't having any of it. She didn't want help.

Was it going to be like this the whole time?

He was so used to people coming to him for his luck, and now that someone was here, PROBABLY in need of it – it wouldn't work for either of them?

He looked out at the window, watching the rain hit against it. He could hear light thundering in the background. Miserable – certainly said a lot. With any luck, it would pass the next few days.

His eyes passed over the coast, its waves thrashing with the wind. His brow furrowed slightly and he thought briefly to himself, frowning.

"Is this what Donald puts up with?" he wondered to himself.

His gaze was lost momentarily on that horizon, then he glanced at the phone.

Lena entered the room, closing the door behind her. She could hear the grumbling of her adoptive parent through the door, but paid little mind to it.

She switched on the light took a few steps into the room, then stopped.

The room had various shades of blue, with redwood borders and a ceiling of sky lights. The wooden headboard of the bed had indentations of stars, and a set of drawers opposite it, mirror and all. A closet was to her right, and there were bedside tables beside the single bed bearing a moonlit gradient bedding.

She was speechless, not that she'd have anyone to say anything to. She approached the mirror slowly. As she did, she felt the soft royal blue carpet squish beneath her – it soaked up the rain she'd carried in.

She came to a stop in front of the dresser, finally. The mirror atop its surface was polished, refined and traditional – built into the set of drawers. She gazed at the mirror, pondering and sombre.

The reflection in the mirror was still – then, it rattled. Violently.

She reeled in shock, staring at the pitch-black shadow that was staring back at her with gleaming red eyes; she whimpered, almost yelped as she shut her eyes – but as soon as she opened them again, the thick darkness was gone. Nothing was there.

She stared at it, and staring back her, was a duck drenched from head to toe in rainwater, her hair flopping over her face and almost obscuring her vision.

No evil aunt. No shadow. No monster.

She sighed deeply, trying to regain herself. She rubbed her eyes as she tried to wipe the image of what had once been her family away from her mind. She hadn't slept well since someone took her body for a joy ride… Maybe it was getting to her.

She wanted to sleep better again soon. Forget all… that.

Lena looked to the dressers' left, finding another door that most likely led to the bathroom.

"This place has everything, huh," she mused to herself.

Lucky.

And almost on cue, the door opened a little – Gladstone held out a light blue towel through the crack, though did not look through it.

"There's a towel here, if you need it," he stated, throwing it gently on the floor in front of Lena.

Her eyebrows furrowed at him, then the towel. "…yeah. Thanks."

The door shut after he'd finished his pause, and then she was left alone again.

Lena, in all honesty, didn't know what was going to happen with this guy. Was the whole adoption thing really happening? Was he really going to juggle these two different lifestyles now? Was she going to get some happy ending or whatever like in those cheesy storybooks?

The idea irked her in a way she couldn't describe.

It seemed more realistic that he'd eventually get sick of her and kick her out, just like the rest. She expected no less from him.

She bent over to pick the towel up. Her eyes passed over the door to the en-suite bathroom and she considered entering it only briefly.

A couple moments later, she was rooting through her bag searching for spare clothes – which she had little of. Not much was in her backpack, just a couple of the same outfits and letters from Webby, to name a few.

She quickly found herself reading at least one of them. Webby was enthused that Lena had potentially found someone to brighten up her life and take care of her, and she was 'all hyped up for the playdate!' that they, Gladstone, and her newly appointed Uncle Scrooge could take part in.

A thought process later, she decided that may not be such a wise idea considering their relationship. 99.9% of the meeting would probably just be Scrooge being pouty.

Lena smiled a little, though she was unsure how long she'd been skimming the letters, because before she knew it there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, I know you're probably not ready – and by all means, take your time," she heard Gladstone's voice through the wood. "But I ordered pizza. Kids like pizza, right?"

Lena's expression grew a tad tight, deadpan even at that question. Thankfully he couldn't see it.

"It'll be here soon, probably," he muttered, then raised his voice a little. "I was just wondering if you wanted to eat it in your room, or we could sit in here and watch movies or something. I don't know."

Lena raised an eyebrow, then tilted her head a little. She finally spoke.

"What kinds of movies? You aren't going to throw educational ones down my throat, are you?"

"Not my goal, but if you want that instead of TV remote privileges…" Gladstone started playfully.

"The remote sounds nicer," Lena responded with a roll of her eyes, putting unneeded items back into her bag.

"So, movie night then?"

Lena looked at the door.

For Gladstone, that silence was agonizing – half way through it he felt like dismissing the thought altogether. Felt like just going back to watching his shows.

But she came through. Finally.

"Movie night."