I do not own any of the characters in this story; they all belong to Disney. I am only borrowing them for entertainment purposes, not for profit.
After making sure everyone had left the building in time, Darkwing was just as glad to finish patrolling the city and heading for home. Crawling around in a burning building full of explosive chemicals was not on his list of favorite things to do. In fact, it was on his list of things to avoid whenever possible. And, he deduced, there would be no more activity from Negaduck that night, as it always took a villain more than one night to gather all the ingredients to an evil plot. Darkwing was in the process of explaining this to Launchpad when they returned to the house via the blue armchairs.
"See, I know he's up to something, and he knows I know he's up to something, but that isn't enough. A real hero knows his enemies, and I know Negaduck like the back of my...well he practically is the back of my hand, but never mind that. He only has two M.O.'s, either blow everything in sight to smithereens at random, or slowly and steadily plan out a dastardly deed. Which is why I know he won't do anything else of note tonight," Darkwing concluded, taking off his hat and cape as he moved towards the kitchen for a snack.
"But, DW, he did blow something to smithereens! I mean, that building," Launchpad pointed out, reaching for a huge salami and pickle sandwich.
"I know that, LP, but the fact is that the fire was just a diversion." Darkwing, now fully Drake Mallard, pulled his shoulders back in one of his more prideful heroic stances, the kind he always hoped the newspapers would get a shot of, someday. "He was really there to steal something from that warehouse. I don't know what it was, but I'll find out, and then, I should have a pretty good idea of what that nasty nefarious negaverse nincompoop is up to!"
"Oh," was all that Launchpad had as a reply. Then he asked, "How will you know that?"
"Becaaaaause," Drake said in an exaggerated patient voice, "that's what heroes do! They put clues together and catch the criminal before the criminal continues his crime!" Toning it down, he turned to Launchpad. "Come on, when have I not figured out the evil plan of a villain before it was too late? Have I ever let you down?"
"Well, there was that one time, DW, when..."
"Never mind, Launchpad," Drake cut him off. He glared at his sidekick, but the glare faded quickly. He could never stay angry at his friend for long; Launchpad was too good a person, too close a friend, and too loyal a sidekick for Drake to ever find him annoying for long. There were not enough people in the world like Launchpad, and Drake, for one, would have preferred a world of innocent, well-meaning friends with a little more room upstairs than the world he currently defended from darkness. He started to say something, but a huge yawn got in the middle and all that came out was, "Launchpad I'm going too–ahh–whoooo-yaaaahh–huh."
Launchpad looked up and asked curiously, "Is that in St. Canard or will you leave town? I never heard of a street named..." Drake stuck his tongue out and laughed.
"I'm going upstairs to check on Gosalyn and then I'm going to bed. Get some rest, Launchpad. Something tells me it's going to be a very, very bad week."
"Good night, Drake!"
"Good night, Launchpad," Drake called over his shoulder as he left the kitchen and headed up the stairs. Despite the exhaustion pulling at his muscles and tripping his feet on the stairs, Drake never, ever came in after a night of crime-fighting without stopping to check on Gosalyn before going to bed himself. She was nearly always asleep, or pretending to be asleep, and he let her believe she had him fooled. He enjoyed watching her attempts to keep a straight face when he came and sat beside her. More often than not, she unconsciously broke into a small smile, and it charmed him that she could not repress it. He always felt an odd thrill at finding out if she were really asleep or just pretending. That same thrill tickled his spine tonight, as he crept into her room, ducking to avoid the traps she had set and finding them dismantled, he settled himself on the edge of her bed, watching her. Tonight she really was asleep, and his heart melted inside. She was so sweet, so completely innocent, so beautiful. She looked so soft and quiet, he could hardly believe the ball of energy and will she was during the day. He brushed a hand over her forehead, feeling safe at the regular breathing and contented look on her face.
"Gos," he whispered, "I wish I could tell you how much I love you." He would have continued in whisper, but his throat clogged with emotion. Drake was a very verbal person, explaining everything he felt or did. He had always been that way. But with Gosalyn, well, she confounded him, dried up the words that he longed to share with her. Even in her quiet moments when they sat as father and daughter, not opposing teams of "adulthood" and "rambunctious preadolescence," still he struggled to find the courage to tell her what he wanted to, and he found it odd to be a hero who lacks courage in the face of his 11-year-old daughter! He believed this difficulty was because a part of him was still unsure, still nervous about pushing her too hard, even after all the time they'd spent together. She meant the absolute world to him, and he would have given her anything, down to his very life, if she needed it. He adored her with as much fatherly feeling as if he'd really been her father. She was the plug that filled up his empty life, empty soul. And in Drake's eyes, she was the most valuable, beautiful, worthwhile thing he'd ever laid eyes upon.
"Gosalyn, my daughter," was all he managed to get out before his heart filled his throat again. He kissed her softly on the head and laid a hand lightly against her cheek. She sighed and smiled in sleep, looking even more contented and safe, beautiful and innocent. His heart filled and he quietly left the room. Settling into his own bed, Drake drifted into sleep, knowing peace in that small body down the hall. Feeling like life was good, after all.
--==OOO==--
In another part of town, Negaduck was at work. Darkwing had not been entirely incorrect about Negaduck's plans; he wasn't exactly breaking the law this time. With all the compounds he needed, Negaduck was at work mixing them together perfectly. While not a mad scientist per se, he had enough experience with chemicals in mixing his explosives to know his way around a chemistry set. And with a few good books on hand, a few articles off the Internet, and one or two theoretical studies by prominent scientists, Negaduck thought he had the situation well in hand. He would have laughed maniacally if he hadn't been so intent on getting the measurements just right. Too much in the one and his plans would be foiled almost at once. Not enough in the other and they would be foiled much faster than he cared see happen. If all went well, Negaduck intended to leave himself with a ticket to St. Canard, a "pass Go and collect 200" card, and his arch-nemesis, Doofball Duck, would be helpless. As the midnight oil burned, he worked slowly and carefully. In another day or two, he would put his plan into action. Now, he just needed the so-called hero to stay out of his business for a just a little longer.
--==OOO==--
"Dad!" Gosalyn called through Drake's bedroom door. Drake was vaguely aware of some shouting and then a bundle of energy bouncing on his bed, and on his stomach.
"Dad! Dad! Dad! Wake up! I forgot all about it! Wake up! I want you to come! Will you come?" Gosalyn was practically shouting at the top of her lungs, hopping about on Drake's midsection and waving some blue flyer in her hand. Drake tried to take a deep, calming breath, and discovered that he could get no air past his exuberant daughter. He let out a strangled cough.
"Gosalyn...get...off...me..." and when she didn't comply immediately, Drake changed positions slightly. Pushing off the bed, he managed to use a modified kick technique and sent the child sideways off the bed and onto the floor. Gosalyn shrieked as she want through the air, landed with a thump, and was already complaining before Drake was even out of bed.
"Hey, no fair! Just because you're a sleepyhead doesn't mean I should get tossed around like a salad for trying to wake you up!" she bellowed.
"And just because you are impatient, little lady, is no reason to squeeze the air out of my lungs," Drake returned, finding his robe and slippers. "Now, what on earth is all the fuss about that it drove you to use me for a trampoline?" Drake led the way downstairs with Gosalyn close on his heels, jabbering rapidly and excitedly. He managed not to crack a smile, even when she turned her eyes on him imploringly.
"Dad, it's just the most important thing ever! This afternoon is the big roller hockey tournament and I'm captain of one of the teams and we're going to win the whole thing and get our pictures taken and a trophy and everything and maybe a scout will see me and take me up to the major leagues and will you please come and watch?" Gosalyn pushed the flyer into her father's face, and indeed, he saw that his daughter's team, mostly made up of herself, Honker, and Honker's brother Tank, was listed to play. As he went into the kitchen for breakfast, he pretended to think about it. Inside, he was bursting with pride: his daughter, a captain! And she wanted him there! But he gave her no indication of his feelings.
"Well, I don't know," he drawled, sighing. "With Negaduck out there, I've got lots of work to do, and if my daughter sees fit to hop on me while I'm fast asleep, I don't know that I..." but Gosalyn interrupted.
"Oh, dad, please?" she begged, turning her wide eyes to his, full of hope. She really did want him to come. Of course she did the sports because she enjoyed them, but there was always a secret hope inside her that her father would admire her spunk, her spirit, and her obvious talent. She wanted more than anything in the world for him to be proud of her, and she wanted him to be there when she really hit it big. As of course she would this time, because how else could a hockey game go with herself as the captain? At least, that's how Gosalyn saw the situation, and that touch of pride and glory-seeking in her character was very similar to her father's, though she would never think so herself.
"Of course, honey," Drake smiled. Launchpad waved from the kitchen table. "I wouldn't miss your big chance at the major leagues, dear. And, since my date with Morgana was postponed until tomorrow, I'm sure I can squeeze you in between the super villains trying to take over the world. But you'd better get going if you're going to make it to school on time. Besides..." However, they never knew what he intended to say after that, because the Flashquack, the rapid summons from the SHUSH agency, flew in the window, beeping wildly. Drake sighed.
"Why does it always come before I get my breakfast? You'd think the criminals would at least wait for a famous hero to eat before they try and destroy the world," Drake complained, grabbing some toast and his costume as he went out into the living room. Launchpad and Gosalyn followed. Donning his hat, mask, and jacket, and eating his toast, Darkwing Duck activated the computer screen on the coffee table.
"Ah, Darkwing, thank you for replying so quickly," said a very relieved-looking J. Gander Hooter, head of SHUSH, the secret intelligence agency that kept tabs on the various evil-doers in the world.
"What can I do for you, J. Gander?" Darkwing asked, filling his mouth with toast. Gosalyn tried desperately to get her head where she could see the screen, but Launchpad held her back, shaking his head and smiling.
"I need you to come over right away, Darkwing. Last night, one of our major science labs was attacked and burned, but not before your archenemy Negaduck escaped with some very dangerous compounds." Darkwing started.
"I was there last night! So that was your warehouse! I guess I should have known," he mused, spilling crumbs all over the couch. "After all, it was pretty well-stocked for a regular business."
"Yes, and from what Sara Bellum tells me was stolen, we have a very real problem."
"I'll be over as soon as I can get there, J. Gander. You can count on Darkwing Duck!" he shouted as the screen went blank. Launchpad stood calmly by, while Gosalyn practically flew over the couch to confront her dad.
"So you had a fight with Negaduck last night? Keen gear! Did you cream him? Can I go with you? I'll bet he's making blood-sucking aliens with those compounds so he can..."
"Gosalyn," Darkwing held up his hand, "this is very serious business. Now, run along to school. I have to go and see J. Gander. And," he said, turning and striking a heroic pose, "rest assured that the next time I meet Negaduck, I will cream him into next week!" Gosalyn giggled. But before she could open her mouth again, Darkwing interrupted her. "And no, you may not come with me on this case. It's too dangerous."
"It's always too dangerous," Gosalyn complained.
"Yes, it is. Now get going, and at least try to get some work done for school today, huh?" he asked her, leaning down to her level. "I've got my job and you've got yours. So while I'm out there risking my neck, I want to see you in here, risking your pencils, all right?" He smiled and kissed her.
"Do you want to trade?" Gosalyn asked under her breath, but Darkwing didn't hear. He was looking at the couch and the floor in front of it.
"Gosalyn, how many times have I told you about eating in the living room? There's crumbs everywhere! It looks like toast to me, and I'm never wrong, being the deductive genius that I am. I want them clean before I get home tonight, or no TV tonight!" Darkwing admonished his daughter as she sputtered.
"But Dad..."
"No buts, young lady. Clean up your mess. Oh, and have a nice day, dear," he called in a much more pleasant, albeit distracted voice. "I'll see you tonight."
"Sure, dad," Gosalyn muttered, grumbling to herself about how unfair it was to be a kid. She looked up to get a last word in, but Darkwing was already on his way to the blue armchairs. He and Launchpad disappeared into the secret passageway to the tower hideout of Darkwing Duck, and Gosalyn instead turned and ran out the door to tell Honker all about her dad's new case, that he would be there to cheer them on at the tournament, and most importantly, that parents were dumb and kids should have more power. Whether it was the power to watch TV as much as they wanted, the power to be free from being scolded for things not their fault, or the power to fight crime and be heroes themselves was somewhat unclear. However, Gosalyn would have vehemently argued for all three, given a soapbox to stand on. Instead, Honker received most of the ramble as they walked to school together, and just sniffed and stalled for time whenever asked for his own thoughts, for Honker only partly agreed with Gosalyn, as on most things, and as always, didn't want to pick a fight. It was business as usual in St. Canard for the day, but that kind of predictable tranquility wouldn't last for long. In fact, it barely lasted at all.