Darkwing Duck: The Webfoot Chronicles part III
Forever Young

by Zebeckras


Act I, chapter 2

DW was in the kitchen for quite a while - almost ten minutes - and Launchpad was alone with his thoughts. His first few thoughts were about the hot dogs, and whether DW would drain them while he was in there. Probably not, he decided. After a few moments, though, he moved on from pondering dinner to reflecting on the argument that had just taken place.

He was, frankly, surprised by it. Looking back, he felt he'd been sort of overbearing, but Drake's words to Beth had stung him vicariously. DW hadn't seen the look on her face when she'd heard him; Launchpad had. He felt sad for her all over again, and even a little angry again when he thought about DW's first apology.

She was really sensitive, it seemed - and, if that was the case, she'd probably picked the wrong guy to fall in love with.

Still, he'd reacted all out of proportion to the situation. At least DW was apologizing now; that was one of the great things about Darkwing, he always knew when he'd gone too far, and he fixed it. Deep down, he was one of the best guys around.

A few more minutes had passed before the door to the kitchen opened slowly, almost carefully, and then Drake stepped out. Launchpad watched him, and when he didn't say anything, Launchpad prompted him a little. "So..?"

Drake turned a look on him that Launchpad couldn't exactly identify. It was sort of accusatory and annoyed, but also underneath it seemed like it was kind of fumbling and remorseful. It was definitely a glare, though, and Launchpad felt more sheepish every second it was turned on him. After a moment, Drake said, "So I apologized."

"Oh." Launchpad realized he probably ought to say he was sorry for the things he'd said, so that they could put this whole thing behind them. It shouldn't be too hard; he was sorry. First, though, he had to ask the remaining questions. "Okay. And, uh, what'd she say? I mean... was she glad?"

"She was fine," said Drake uncomfortably, and he looked at the door as if he could knock it over just with the intention of his gaze. "Well, a little overwhelmed, but mostly fine."

"So, is she-"

"Y'know LP, surprisingly enough, I don't really want to talk about this anymore," Drake snapped. "I apologized. It's done. We're square."

From that, Launchpad was pretty sure that DW wasn't really over his suspicion of Beth. For a moment or two he felt angry again, but it quelled quickly; DW could warm up to Beth more once he got to know her and realized how wrong he was about her. The important thing now was that he'd apologized. Launchpad wanted to ask if Beth would be staying as usual that evening, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he said, "Well... thanks. I'm sure she appreciates it." After a rather chilly silence from Drake, he added, "I do too. An' I'm sorry for all that. Guess I kinda lost my head."

"Mm." Drake just grunted, but his posture relaxed a little bit, and Launchpad took that to mean that the apology was accepted. He grinned a little.

"Mind if I go in an' talk to her for a sec before we leave?" After all, he'd promised he was coming back... Besides, he wanted to make sure that Drake hadn't said anything else that he shouldn't. And then there were the hot dogs, for that matter.

"Sure, fine, take your time. Not like we have anything to DO tonight, after all," Drake said peevishly, but he didn't seem honestly to be all that bothered, so Launchpad took the permission for what it was and went to make sure Beth was okay.

When he made his way carefully into the kitchen, Beth was standing by the sink and holding a hot dog in a bun. It had a single bite out of it. She was staring at the rest like she wasn't sure what to do with it. She sniffled quickly and wiped at her face as he entered; she looked nervous, so he kept a little distance and waited for her to speak first.

She did, after a moment; she blew out a breath and laughed nervously. "Um, Drake said I c-could help m-myself for dinner..."

"Oh yeah, 'course ya can! They're for you an' Gos. Uh, don't mind if I help myself though..."

"Sure!" she said, gesturing at the stove where the hot dogs were still sitting in their pot. A bag of rolls was out on the counter next to them. She took a bite of her own, chewed a little, then swallowed. After she'd cleared her throat, she said awkwardly, "Um. So."

"Yeah. Well, uh..." He was in the midst of putting condiments onto his dinner, and he stopped. Now he felt oddly as if he owed her an apology. "Uh, look, sorry 'bout all that. I just thought... I mean, you looked upset, an'-"

She shook her head. "To be honest, I think I was overreacting, and you know. I mean - not that I'm not grateful, because I really am, it's just I think I made things kind of weird for you and Drake and I'd just hate myself if I did something to cause a conflict or anything. Or - well, what I mean is, I'm sorry if you were worried about me, but Drake explained about what he was really talking about, and... I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, that was just-"

"Okay, slow down." He smiled gently. "I don't think much is gonna come of this with me an' Drake, so don't worry about that. But I don't blame ya for bein' upset. Drake can be kinda harsh, but he doesn't mean it." Usually, anyway.

"Oh I know!" she said quickly. Launchpad felt he shouldn't be surprised by the speed of her response. "No, I know, Drake's the kind of person who doesn't sugarcoat things, and that's fine. It's nice to know where you stand with people sometimes, right?"

There was something missing, both in that logic and in that description of DW, but Launchpad held his tongue.

"But," Beth continued, "I just took it too hard. You know how it can be. There are times when... I mean, probably any little thing could have..." She trailed off, then took another bite of her hot dog. With her mouth full, she said quietly, "Am I... really really obvious?"

"Huh?"

She swallowed. "What I mean is... Do I - wear my heart on my sleeve?" She stared down at the half of the hot dog that remained, as if it was a completely foreign object. Her cheeks were turning a bright pink as she elaborated, "About... about Drake." She looked up at Launchpad and eyed him carefully.

"Oh..." This was the first time she had directly acknowledged that she was interested in Drake, and Launchpad wasn't sure if it would be better to admit that he'd guessed, or play it dumb. She was talking about it like she could tell he knew, so he sort of shrugged half-heartedly. "Uh... I dunno?"

She paused, frowning, then looked self-conscious. "Well, I... I might as well tell someone," she said, blushing. "Ever since I met Drake, I... Gosh, I don't really know how to... to say this." She looked anxiously at the door to the kitchen, as if trying to see through it, and blurted out, "I'm in love." Looking back to Launchpad, she added, "With Drake," as if it needed further clarification.

Launchpad really had no idea what to say in response to that. It was very direct, that was for certain, and not really any of his business - not that he minded being a confidant, or anything, but... She seemed to want some kind of answer or response, and he didn't have a clue what to say. "Oh yeah?" She was blushing a deeper shade of pink than he'd ever seen her; despite the awkward situation, he found her adorable and it was hard to keep from smiling. "I mean, y'know, I don't mind - I just dunno what to-"

"I must seem very desperate." She spoke suddenly, and almost dejectedly. " I've only known him for..." She stopped, counted on her fingers, and concluded, "eight days. Eight days and he's the most important person in my life. That's the kind of clinginess of a desperate person, isn't it?" She looked wistfully at her hands.

"Aw, I don't think so. There wouldn't be alla those movies an' songs an' stuff about love at first sight if it didn't really happen, right?"

She looked encouraged, and smiled at him. "I guess not. I'm just glad to hear someone else say that, you know, someone who isn't me." When he laughed, she did too, but still fidgeted nervously. "I just... I've been alone for so long, and... and I want to... I mean, I have plans. I want a family, you know? I want to settle down and raise kids and so far I've never even-" She stopped abruptly and cleared her throat.

It wasn't hard to picture Beth with kids. Launchpad imagined her having two or three of them, at the minimum, running around the kitchen while she cooked dinner or playing at a playground while she looked on. "Hey, you'll be a great mom," he said, since it seemed obvious to him.

Looking at the table, she gave a shrug that was partly a shake of the head and said wistfully, "Not if I never have kids."

"Why wouldn't you?" As soon as he'd asked it, he regretted it: maybe there was something wrong, some painful secret reason she couldn't have kids. Heck, maybe she'd found out she only had a month to live. He tried to cover. "Uh... That is, not that kids are all there are to life, though."

"I just mean," she said, showing no signs of taking offense at his question, "that I can't have kids if I can't even... find someone to have them with."

"Ohhhh. Well, I'm sure the right guy'll come along."

Her head lowered, she looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I haven't even found the semi-decent guy. At this point I'd almost settle for the out-and-out wrong guy."

"Huh?"

"There haven't, um, exactly been any guys. At all. Ever."

"Oh." They both paused and for the first time Launchpad wondered if the reason she seemed to put so much energy into trying to create relationships, even though just speaking to people could be hard for her, was because of a sense that her time was running out.

"I-I shouldn't have said that," she said awkwardly. "I'm sorry. That was totally - nobody wants to - just forget all this, okay?"

Now that she was apologizing, he realized that it didn't actually bother him. In fact he felt a little special to be trusted this way. "Nah, don't worry about it! You can tell me anything," he said reassuringly. She smiled a little. On an impulse, he added, "Tell ya what else. I'll talk to Drake for ya, okay? Put in a good word an' see what I can do."

Her face lit up like a birthday cake. "REALLY? Oh, Launchpad, you don't have to do that for me!"

But he did. The smile on her face was unlike any he'd ever seen from her, and he had a feeling that he was one of the only people in the world to have seen it. The feeling of being special doubled. "Well, it's worth it to see ya smile like that," he said, patting her on the shoulder.

She blushed again, but the smile never faltered. "That's amazing," she said, flustered, "I mean... Thank you so much!"

"No problemo!" He glanced at the kitchen clock and it was nearly five minutes that they'd been talking; Drake was sure to be getting fed up. He grabbed another hot dog, didn't bother with a bun or ketchup this time, and tried to excuse himself quickly. "Look, I gotta go - the bowling alley's got a real strict time for league nights now."

"Okay." She was still grinning ear-to-ear. "Well, let me know what he says. But um, no hurry or anything. Whenever you have time."

"Sure!" She thanked him again - profusely - and he held the door open for her as they both headed back to the living room. It wasn't until that moment, as she passed in front of him and he watched her, feeling really good about himself, as if he had done something really great, that he remembered Morgana.


When Launchpad headed back into the kitchen to chat with Beth, Drake wasn't particularly surprised. When he hung out there for about five times longer than was really needed, Drake wasn't pleased, but he could have let that go. But when his sidekick came back out of the kitchen with Beth, holding the door for her like her personal footservant, he got really annoyed.

He found himself tapping his foot, deeply impatient, as he said, "We really need to get going."

Launchpad looked like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him. "Oh, uh - huh?"

"You know, to the bowling alley?" he said sharply.

Beth was the one who nodded. "Of course, absolutely, Drake. You should go. Thanks so much for sticking around so long." She smiled and just stood there, as if daring him to make a move with her in the room.

Oh, that was it. She knew exactly what she was doing.

There was a long, extended pause. Drake sent a look to Launchpad, who looked back at him with a flummoxed expression. From his spot just behind Beth, he shrugged helplessly. Finally Drake said, "...Right... Y'know, maybe Gosalyn needs some help with her homework-"

"Oh!" Beth said this so suddenly that Launchpad jumped. "I forgot! The whole reason I came into the kitchen in the first place was - oh, well, see, you were right and I really shouldn't have butted into your conversation and all, I know we went over this, but-"

Drake ground his teeth together in mental agony. "Yes, yes Beth, the point?" he managed.

"Oh. Right. Um, just before I came in, Gosalyn asked me if it was okay if she had a friend over tonight and I said that it was okay with me, but really it was up to you since it's your house and we haven't been over the company policy. Heh... company policy, that's funny, that's not exactly what I meant-"

Drake made a slight growling sound, and Beth paused, a puzzled expression on her face, as if she wasn't sure she'd actually heard it.

"Sorry, I - well, anyway, Gosalyn wanted to know if she could have her friend - Honker, I think? - come by tonight. Is that okay?"

"Fine, just fine!" Drake almost snapped. "That's a great idea. Keep everyone occupied. REALLY need to go now!"

"Oh good!" Beth said with a smile. She turned to Launchpad. "Occupied?"

"He meant, uh, happy."

Beth nodded in understanding. "So is Honker... well, is he very much like...I mean, in terms of energy-"

"Is he like Gos?" Launchpad chuckled. "Nah. He's real quiet. You'll like him, I bet."

"I - I like Gosalyn too!" Beth said quickly, sending a significant look in Drake's direction. Drake decided that it was important that he no longer look at her, and he managed to find a point on the sofa to focus on as he addressed her.

"Saaaay, Beth, why don't you go ahead and let Gos know right NOW that she can have friends over? And let her know I'm on my way out while you're at it. Don't want to keep her waiting!"

"Sure!" Beth said, sounding tremendously chipper, and she obediently headed for the stairs.

The moment she was out of sight, Drake grabbed Launchpad by the scarf and half-tugged, half-pushed him into one of the chairs. "We are getting out of here. NOW." Yet another night where, if he had to spend five more minutes in the same house as Beth Webfoot, he was either going to have to arrest her or else just say goodbye to his sanity.

Launchpad seemed to understand the urgency behind his request, and without any further stalling or general irritations, they were off.


Gosalyn was nowhere to be found upstairs, and Beth wasn't sure where else to look. The idea of starting out her evening by losing her charge left her feeling slightly panicked, and so she hurried back towards the living room in the hopes of catching Drake before he left so that he could tell her not to worry and instruct her on exactly where Gosalyn went when she wasn't in the house.

She was halfway down the stairs, though, when she knew something else was not right.

The twin easy chairs were spinning.

She had just enough time to be sure that she wasn't imagining it or having some kind of double-image effect before they stopped, and the strangely familiar 'whoosh' noise that had accompanied them had fallen silent. Once they stopped, she knew for certain that she was alone in the house; there was a certain stillness to the place that made it abundantly clear.

Chairs did not spin. There were no chairs in her life that had ever spun, well, except around and around like if they were office or desk chairs, her university and even her parents had had some of those kinds of chairs but they never, ever spun vertically. No. Horizontal spinning was the way to go.

Beth shook her head to try to snap out of it. She felt a little like her head was spinning as well, the same disorienting, vertical spin as the chairs. She stepped down off of the stairs, walked right up to the armchairs, and touched them. They felt sturdy enough. Maybe she'd imagined...?

She stopped that line of thought when she recalled the noise they'd made, the oddly familiar one; she remembered now, she'd heard that the first night that she'd babysat for Gosalyn. They'd been up in Gosalyn's room and from out in the hallway she'd heard that strange combined whoosh/howl, and when she'd asked what it was, Gosalyn had said she hadn't heard it.

After leaning more heavily on first one, then the other chair, Beth gave the one on the left a single, firm push. It didn't give way at all, so she sat down on it and wondered what she was trying to do. What would happen if she did get them spinning again? What did it mean? Why would someone have their chairs wired to do this?

She squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head. It didn't make sense. None of this did. As she sat there, she recalled again the first night she'd come by - she'd been sitting in this same spot and Drake had told her to stand up. Something about the upholstering, which to her tastes had felt fine and still felt totally normal now...

The only way this even began to make any sense was if she considered that she was not supposed to know about the spinning. Or, maybe not her specifically... maybe everyone. Gosalyn? She wasn't sure. Gosalyn might have been lying, or she really might not have noticed the spinning noise. But Drake and Launchpad... They knew. She realized for the first time that she'd been sent up to Gosalyn's room every evening when they left - she'd never seen them leave the house. She hadn't seen them leave tonight, either.

Something inside her, some dammed-up curiosity and need, broke open and she had to know what she was well-aware was none of her business. Where did they really go, what was going on, and first and foremost how did she get the chairs to spin? She was bouncing on her knees on the one she'd been sitting on when she turned her head to check the front door and her gaze passed over the statuette of Basil, the Great Mouse Detective.

She froze. Drake's voice rang in her ears, shouting at her not to touch it; as she'd been sitting in the chair...

Before she could talk herself out of it, she reached out and gave its head a firm push.


A/N: sorry folks but the apology scene didn't really add anything to the fic and it slowed down the momentum, so I took it out after writing it. However, I did *keep* it - it's over at my Webfoot blog (or Weblog, if you will, ha ha). Check my profile for the link if you are interested. :) As for the plot, I promise it will come back soon... but it'll probably be in Act II. Stuff I have to get out of the way up front first. You know how it is. :P Hope this chapter meets with approval, and I'll try to have the next one up within a month or so!