A/N: ViridianVenus has the right idea with the song this chapter is titled after; replace "goddess" with "daughter" and it's PERFECT for Drake and Gosalyn.
Drake watched the young couple as they donned their waders, Max talking — presumably telling the Powerline story from his perspective as promised — and Gosalyn listening, occasionally asking a question.
The fathers were sitting aboard the raft, drifting into the middle of the lake in the hopes of catching some fish in the deeper depths. They were too far away to hear what the younger generation was saying, but Drake knew his daughter well enough to be able to tell if what she was saying was a question or a sarcastic comment.
It was mostly sarcastic comments. And anyone who knew Gosalyn wouldn't be surprised by that in the slightest.
Goofy, who had finished telling the Powerline story from his perspective — Drake would be seething with jealousy for years to come. Seriously? Goofy just fell onto the stage and got to dance with the one and only Powerline, the Divine's gift to humanity? Life was, officially, unfair — followed Drake's line of sight to the couple and he grinned.
"They grew up so fast, didn't they?" he asked.
Drake, still keeping his eyes on his daughter, nodded. "Too fast."
He had adopted Gosalyn when she was nine, so he'd missed out on the first third of her life. And now she was an adult, had a full time job, was seriously dating Max, and was wildly successful. To say that Drake was proud was an understatement. All he could talk about, all that consumed his thoughts, was Gosalyn. Sure, there was some crime fighting stuck in there, but that was just filler. Gosalyn was, and always had been, the main attraction. Seeing her grow up had been the absolute pleasure of his life.
But.
Sometimes.
In his most selfish moments.
He wanted her back to the same age she'd been when they met. That nine-year-old firecracker of a kid who lived by her own rules and had pushed Drake to the edges of his sanity.
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Drake climbed out of his car and examined his house. His little home nestled in the heart of St. Canard suburbia with his front yard, his annoying neighbors, his freshly cut grass, and clean gutters. All he was missing was the white picket fence and he'd be the full blown stereotype.
This was not what he had envisioned for himself while growing up.
He had always wanted to be the superhero, like the ones he read about in his comics. And that dream had come true: living Darkwing Tower, fighting crime by night and sleeping through the day. Dangerous had been a way of life long before it had been his catchphrase.
And he'd been happy. Had everything he wanted.
Or so he'd thought.
Until a red-headed menace had invaded his life. Taken over everything that he'd used to define himself and helped rebuild who he was. What his life was.
Drake hadn't looked back ever since adopting Gosalyn, hadn't ever thought of what could have been because he was so busy trying to keep up with the now; his daughter didn't slow down for anyone, least of all her father as she hurtled toward the future. But this weekend, Drake had been given the opportunity to see what could have been. Quite on accident and without his express permission. Which was typical of any high school reunion.
Not that his reunion had been typical. Megavolt crashing it had certainly spiced things up and Drake had so nearly escaped reminiscing about his past with former classmates and considering what his future could have been. But Ham and Prina had wanted to have an honest-to-God reunion where they weren't interrupted by super villains. So they'd invited their entire class, excluding Megavolt, to their expansive mansion for a dinner where everyone could catch up. And Drake had gone, a part of him still the dorky "Drake the Dweeb" who was desperate to be accepted by the cool kids.
His classmates knew how to throw a party, and their house was impressive, so Drake has been swept up in an evening full of what could have been.
And what Drake saw was pretty bleak.
Sure, if he'd worked hard enough, he could have been a businessperson like Prina. Sure, he could have applied his attention to detail and careful concentration which might have gotten him a mansion like Ham and Prina had. Sure, he could have joined the St. Canard elite and been the envy of his classmates.
But then he wouldn't have been Darkwing Duck.
And he never would have met Gosalyn.
Even if he never had become a superhero, it was the thought of not having Gosalyn that had stopped him cold.
Because he could live as ordinary Drake Mallard. He'd done it all his life. He'd be bored out of his mind, but he could do it.
Live without Gosalyn, though? He didn't even want to think of the possibility of it. She completed him in ways he didn't know he needed completing. Gave him courage to take on another day. Renewed his confidence. Made him realize that life was about more than just crimefighting and trying to make a name for himself.
How quickly she'd become his everything, and he couldn't bring himself to imagine another reality where that wasn't his life.
Closing his car door, Drake smiled softly as he walked up the driveway to his little suburban house. He was anxious to see his little girl. To sweep her up in his arms and cuddle her close as the evening drew on.
All thought of having a peaceful father-daughter evening fled from Drake's mind as soon as he opened the door.
"Hit the deck!" came Gosalyn's cry.
Because he'd been involved in too many accidents thanks to Gosalyn's spirited nature, Drake immediately fell to the floor. Just in time, too, or the wayward hockey puck would have hit him right in the head. As it was, the puck sailed through the now open doorway and bounced harmlessly into the front yard.
Drake looked over to his daughter, who was dressed in her hockey gear, and leveled her with a glare.
"Gosalyn Mallard," he said, tone long suffering. "What have I said about playing hockey inside the house?"
Gosalyn cowered behind her hockey stick, peering at him with her big green eyes. "Um… to not to?"
"Then what, pray tell," Drake said, standing and putting his hands on his hips, "is this?"
Gosalyn sighed and cast her gaze downward. "Are you gonna tell me the story of the little girl, the hockey puck, and the pit of eternal flame?"
Normally? Yes. Drake would detail how he was going to throw her into this metaphorical pit if he ever caught her doing this again and then he'd ground her for a month.
But today.
When Drake had imagined what his life could have been without her. How bleak and dreary and unfulfilling it could so easily have been.
He beckoned her closer and dropped to a knee as she approached. "How about I tell you the story of the little girl who promises to never play hockey in the house ever again and her father who played hockey with her in the front yard until it was time for dinner?"
Gosalyn brightened, her small beak curving up into a smile. "You mean it?"
"You do this again, young lady, and I will take all your hockey gear away and only give it to you for practice and games. We clear?"
Gosalyn nodded, her red pigtails bobbing at the motion.
Drake stood and gently pushed her out the front door. "Get your roller blades."
Gosalyn bounded out to the garage, Drake on her heels to set up their makeshift rink in the driveway. Once that was finished, Drake caught sight of Gosalyn yanking on her blades, her enthusiasm making her clumsy.
Bending down to secure them on her feet, he said, "By the way, you're grounded for the week."
She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Way to put a damper on things, Dad."
"What's the rule about hockey in the house?" Drake said, eyeing Gosalyn as he finished securing her foot in her skate.
Gosalyn rolled her eyes but said, "To not play hockey in the house."
Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Drake said, "That's my girl. You better defend your goal, kiddo, or I'll score while you're not looking."
"In your dreams!" she said, skating over to the goal and squatting down to ready herself for their game.
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Of course Gosalyn had played hockey in the house again. So Drake had taken away her gear. Which she had managed to sneak away and use anyway. It always had been a constant battle with that girl.
But Drake wouldn't have had it — or her — any other way. He was beyond grateful to have had the opportunity to raise her. Even downright honored.
Casting his line out over the lake and settling in for a calm afternoon of fishing, Drake smiled andallowed himself to stroll down memory lane, recalling all of his fondest moments with Gosalyn throughout the years.
Hey, it was Father's Day. He got a pass for being sentimental.
