Disclaimer: This story takes place in the universe of Scyphi's The New Adventures of Darkwing Duck, a world where Darkwing has returned after a seven year disappearance into the Negaverse, Gosalyn and Honker are all grown up and fighting crime as the Crimson Avenger and Techno, where Negaduck has recently nearly taken over St. Canard with a multi-dimensional army, and now after his defeat the world is going through a few changes.

It's extremely important that you read Darkwing Duck Returns and NADWD first, as the prominent original characters (and in some cases, lack thereof), plot developments and daring twists from those stories will be used without much (if any, at times) explanation in these continued stories.


McDuck Manor, Duckburg

It was a beautiful day to visit scenic Duckburg – home of Formula 1 racecars, high tech lasers, fabulous aeronauts in amazing aeroplanes, and of course the famous holdings of the illustrious Scrooge McDuck. A little slice of springtime heaven for those who lived there - but for the Mallard family it was a strange change of pace from their usual hectic crime-ridden metropolis.

With Scrooge's company moving to foot the bill for the reconstruction of the damage to St. Canard in the wake of Negaduck's invasion, the Mallards' superheroic alter egos had been working with him quite a bit lately. With the reconstruction soon came a massive renovation plan across the whole city, promising to bring improvements to everything from repaved roads to hi-tech traffic lights.

Both cities had been abuzz about this for some time, and now Scrooge was finally going to unveil the means in which he planned to speed up this reconstruction at a special executive conference. Special guests and important people from both Duckburg and St. Canard were expected to appear to rub elbows and catch a glimpse of Scrooge's latest plans – which of course included an appearance from St. Canard's own superhero community.

Or at least, that was the official reason. But it also gave Scrooge and Launchpad a chance to see each other, a rare thing these days, and to connect with the family that had all but adopted him. And with Scrooge, that meant being treated like part of his family in turn: and so it was that Drake, Launchpad and Gosalyn – who "invited" Honker under the guise of it being a nice pre-graduation getaway (they had to do a lot of wheedling to get his parents to allow him to visit another city without them) – were whisked by limo to Duckburg several hours early to explore the city and join Scrooge for a lavish brunch.

With a duck as rich as Scrooge, it was easy to expect a mansion filled with servants and a meal flown in from some world famous chef halfway across the globe. They got the mansion part right, but it was a surprise to find nobody else in it but a kindly older woman – though not as old as Scrooge, it seemed nobody was that old – and a single butler.

Both of whom clearly had any chef in the world dead to rights.

"I can't remember the last time I've had anything that good!" Gosalyn laughed on their way to the main hall, after cleaning her plate in more ways than one. Despite his objections, she had insisted on helping Duckworth put the dishes away. "Sorry Dad, but Duckworth's got you beat!"

"No offense taken!" Drake laughed, patting his stomach. "What was that, anyway?"

"Haggis," Honker said idly. He had opted for a nice salad instead.

"Psh, come on Honk," Gosalyn laughed, assuming it was a joke. "Like entrails would really taste that good!"

"They do the way the McDuck family makes them, ma'am," Duckworth said stuffily. "The recipe has been passed down for generations!"

Launchpad laughed. He was still wolfing down his third plate. "It's true! I've had the ol' McDuck haggis tons of times. Never a better pair of baked lungs will you ever find! Though I'm not sure where else you would look…"

There was a long silence.

"Well, thanks all the same…" Gosalyn said weakly, eyeing the odd green color rising up her father's face. Honker hid a chuckle behind his arm.

"Think nothing of it, dear," Mrs. Beakley said happily, smiling up at them as she gingerly took a seat in a large armchair. The old ex-nanny had lived at the estate for many years after taking care of Scrooge's nephews in their youth. Now that they were older she was more or less out of a job, but Scrooge had kindly extended an invitation for her and her granddaughter Webbigail to stay as long as they wanted. Much like Scrooge himself, she and Duckworth were both still going strong despite the many years under their belt – though in her case, that was getting difficult.

Not long before the visit, she caught a nasty bug that – healthy life or not – seriously wore her down at her age. While it was thankfully temporary, she wasn't moving around much. Not that that ever stopped her from being kind. "Any family of Launchpad's is family of ours," she said, beaming at the Mallards, "isn't that right Mr. McDuck?"

"Yes, yes. My house is yer house, as long as yer willin' te pay," Scrooge grunted automatically, not actually paying much attention to the conversation. Having finished his meal before the rest, he was already in deep concentration over the a few last minute files he planned to present.

"Mr. McDuck!" Mrs. Beakley gasped. Scrooge glanced up briefly, before turning back to his files.

"Don't mind him," Duckworth assured their guests, assuming that they found that as offensive as it sounded. "I'm afraid he isn't much used to visitors as of late."

"Don't worry about it," Drake grinned. Though as far as Mrs. Beakley and Duckworth knew this was the Mallards' first time really getting to know Scrooge, they were well used to Scrooge's gruff but well-meaning determination by now. In fact they found it rather endearing, but they couldn't well let Mrs. Beakley and Duckworth know that. The only two people in Duckburg who knew their secret identities were Scrooge himself and Gizmoduck, and for now they planned for it to stay that way.

"I'm just grateful for your invitation. It's supposed to be a busy day today, right?" He continued, pausing to put on what Gosalyn had long christened his 'fishing for fame' face. "Something about Darkwing Duck?"

Gosalyn rolled her eyes where he couldn't see her (or more accurately, where he could pretend he didn't see her). "I still can't believe I'm missing a chance to meet Darkwing Duck?" She said with obviously exaggerated disappointment. "Are you sure there's no space for us there?"

"Afraid so, lass." Scrooge grunted, playing along. "Inviting an old colleague who operates in St. Canard is one thing," he gestured to Launchpad. "But I'm afraid I can't make openings for a family he happens to know… no offense. Even Darkwing Duck is only there for publicity."

"What a shame…" Drake said airily, trying not to look too pleased. Gosalyn rolled her eyes again. "I guess we'll have to meet St. Canard's hero some other time…"

"Yeah, maybe we can crash a bank robbery," Gosalyn smirked, ignoring the glare her father sent her way.

As an event halfway between a press conference and an executive reception, Scrooge's big unveiling was going to be very posh and very exclusive. Everyone knew this was a big revelation, whatever it would be, but the idea here was more to flaunt the company's plans in in front of investors, rivals and the press.

As he made clear at length whenever anybody brought up the subject, Scrooge usually hated these sort of things: seeing them as tedious and blustery, if necessary. But the reconstruction deal with St. Canard was too much of a game changer to go by quietly. Officials and bigwigs from both cities had already gotten on board just to make appearances and rub elbows.

Scrooge had actually extended invitations to the entire Darkwing clan to appear, but they all decided together – that is, mostly Gosalyn – that having one of them attend on their behalf was more "proper." She made a strong argument that an entire team of superheroes skulking around in addition to Gizmoduck and Scrooge's other means of security might scare the investors and put everyone on edge.

That this just so happened to satisfy her glory hound father while giving her and Honker a free visit to Duckburg, without having to sit for hours thorugh a boring press conference, was left unsaid.

"A shame too," Scooge noted, still not looking up. "After the good things Dewey said about you folks, I bet yeh would've liked to meet all three boys."

"THE BOYS?!"

All eyes turned to Mrs. Beakley. Scrooge finally put down his files and gave the conversation his full attention. "Oh! Didn't ah tell you? The boys are home from college! Ah'll be picking them up along the way!"

"Scrooge McDuck!" Mrs. Beakley shouted, her voice shrill and raspy from her cold. Scrooge shrunk back, looking much like a child who hadn't done his chores. To his visitors, it was a very rare sight. "Had I known the boys were coming I wouldn't have decided to stay home! You know Webby has wanted badly to see them, but now she's gone with her friends on that band trip to Spoonerville!"

"Ah… aheh…" Scrooge chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Mrs. Beakley… but there's still always a place for you!"

Mrs. Beakley rose to stand, but Duckworth strode over and put a hand on her shoudler. "As this house's professional caretaker, I must put my foot down - not in your condition!" Duckworth said to her, but loudly enough that the whole room could hear. "Anything but strict bed rest shall have to wait until after your illness has passed."

"Don't be silly, I'm perfectly- kaff!" As if to prove his point, Mrs. Beakley's objection was interrupted by a small fit of coughing, and she was forced to lower herself into a chair. "Oh, very well. Forget it, Mr. McDuck" She sighed, calming herself down. "Just make sure the boys actually come around afterwards to visit this time!"

Scrooge agreed, still looking a bit guilty – also a rare expression from him.

Drake cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well… um... now that that's all settled, I suppose I better head to my… er… meeting," Drake said, glancing at Scrooge.

This, of course, really meant he would be heading for where Launchpad hid the Thunderquack to change, but a cover story was a cover story. "Thank you again for letting me know about that pinckney flanges supplier here in Duckburg, Mr. McDuck. Should really help my 'work!'"

"Think nothing of it, lad." Scrooge said without a trace of awkwardness at all, leaving Drake to wonder just how much more experience had he with this sort of thing. "Just be sure to say hello for me. And remind him of that hundred dollars he owes me."

"Right…" Drake said, trying to hide his bemusement. Even when dealing with fake events, Scrooge couldn't suppress his business sense.

He moved to grab his jacket from the foyer, only to find that Duckworth had somehow left and returned with it before he could do so. A less honed temperament might have jumped in surprise. He did, however, let out a "whuh?"

"So…" he said, donning his jacket. Not as stylish as his other suit, but it did the job for a civilian. "Is that a butler thing, or-"

"Foresight is an indispensible quality, sir." Duckworth said stuffily, offering no further explanation.

"True," Drake shrugged it off. He turned to the rest of the room. "In any case, I'll be back soon! Save me some of those press conference hors d'oeuvres, Launchpad!"

"You got it, DW!"

"Well then…" Gosalyn jumped to attention. She squeezed Honker's shoulder, and they shared a smile. "Then I guess that's our cue to leave too,"

Darkwing didn't seem to hear her at first. "I'll see you guys when I get- w-wait, leave?" He stopped short, and whipped about so fast he stumbled a little. "Where are you two going?"

Gosalyn tilted her head at him, a little confused. "To… see Duckburg? The crown jewel of Calisota? Racecars, lasers, aeroplanes? Ringing a bell?"

"You mean… together?"

Gosalyn's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Her confusion was quickly vanishing. "…yes?"

Drake bristled instinctively. "Together, together? I mean, now that you guys are…" He stammered. Gosalyn's eyes shot from narrow to wide. "That is, is this like a…"

Honker flushed. Beside him, Gosalyn was starting to redden too - though not solely from embarrassment in her case.

"Dad…"

"Well," Darkwing said uncomfortably. "It's just that I thought you two would stay here."

"And do what, exactly!?" Gosalyn hissed, voice rising. "No offense, Mrs. Beakley."

Mrs. Beakley's reply of "none taken, dear," was drowned out. "I don't know!" Drake replied. "Explore the mansion? Sample some of Scrooge McDuck's rich economic history? But not go galavanting through the boardwalk without proper super-."

"DAD!"Gosalyn hissed sharply. Drake flinched, not unlike Scrooge had not long before. When Gosalyn continued it was slow and methodical, as if she were struggling to keep a level, polite tone. "Me and Honker are going to go and see the sights. Together! We'll be back later. Have a good time buying Pinckney flanges. Bye."

With that, she promptly turned away and marched out of the door – without even waiting for Duckworth to get her coat for her.

Honker had long since ditched the conversation to personally say goodbye and apologize to their hosts – not that he needed to, as it seemed they were well versed in teenager/parent squabbles (Scrooge even looked rather amused). At the sound of Gosalyn's goodbye, he quickly broke off – apologizing again – and rushed out the door behind her before she could accidentally left him behind in her anger. The last thing this situation needed was an awkward return.

Drake grit his teeth. "Oh, sure. Pardon me for being a parent!" He called after them.

Launchpad stepped up and clapped him on the back, looking more proud than concerned. "Don't worry, DW! I'm sure they'll be fine!"

"Oh, hush Launchpad." Drake grumbled. He squirmed away from Launchpad's hand and trudged towards the door as well, though he made no attempt to actively chase after his daughter.

Launchpad chuckled. Behind them, Scrooge and Duckworth laughed along with him. "Ye live a charmed life, lad," Scrooge said as the two exited together. There was a groan from Drake and one last laugh from Launchpad, and then they were gone.

After a moment's further chuckling, Scrooge glanced down at his watch. Upon seeing the time, he deciding that had been enough family fun for one day.

"I suppose we better get goin' too, Duckworth. Don't want to miss any moment of Glomgold and Rockerduck breathin' down me neck." He turned to smile at the one friend not coming along. "We'll see ye soon, Mrs. Beakley!"

"Goodbye Mr. McDuck!" Mrs. Beakley said warmly. "And good luck with the presentation!"

Scrooge waved, and then quickly made his exit as well along with Duckworth. Mrs. Beakley was alone in the mansion.

Albeit, that meant alone with a state-of-the-art security system and private emergency services practically on-call 24/7. Even when in a state such as hers, she had long since stopped worrying about her safety here. In the city of Duckburg, there was perhaps only one place better provided and more secure.

Still, Gosalyn had a point. It was rather lonely in that big house, and while there were more than enough oddities to grab a person's interest in any place owned by Scrooge McDuck, Beakley had seen them all. This was liable to be a rather dull afternoon.

Luckily, a few minutes later something broke the silence: the phone rang.

Mrs. Beakley had wisely chosen a seat close to the telephone. "Hello, McDuck Manor! I'm sorry, but Mr. McDuck is not… yes?" It took her a few seconds, but she soon recognized the voice on the other side. Her face erupted into a grin. "Oh, hello! I haven't heard from you in… what's that? You're in town?" Perhaps this evening wouldn't be so humdrum after all. "Wonderful!"

She started to give directions to the manor, but her smile fell as the other line continued to talk. "I'm sorry, dear, but I'm not feeling very well. I'm afraidit wouldn't be wise for me to meet you. Could you perchance come to the- you… can't?" She sighed. "It has to be there? Well…" She glanced at the door, where her surrogate family and their strict orders of bedrest had gone. Honestly, the way they fussed over her sometimes, it was almost as if they were her nannies…

"… what Duckworth and Mr. McDuck don't know can't hurt them, I suppose," she sighed. Taking down a pen, she prepared to write her own directions. "I'll be there soon!"


An Hour Later, at the Duckburg Park Conference Hall,

Darkwing was still ranting by the time they made it to the conference. It hadn't taken him long to get suited up and ready for public adoration, so he had plenty of time to continue to stew about his parental woes. Even his customary dramatic entrance hadn't softened his irritation, probably because he realized that since he was expected to actually witness Scrooge's presentation that meant he was forced to mingle with fat cats and politicians without an easy way of escape.

Perhaps he should've saved his entrance for after Scrooge's presentation. Or maybe Gosalyn had the right idea after all. Not that he would admit it.

"Seriously, what kind of world is it LP, when my own adopted flesh and blood can blow me off like that?"

He paused, waiting for Launchpad to say something along the lines of "she's an adult now, DW." When it never came, he turned around to find that Launchpad was no longer by his side. He was a short ways away, standing by the hors d'oeuvres and talking animatedly with Dewey Duck and this two brothers Huey and Louie. Darkwing had yet to really meet the other two, but there was no mistaking the three of them together. The three were, after all, practically identical – if not for surface details like their hair or the color of their clothes.

He thought he recognized Dewey immediately, but he didn't know much about how the other two looked beyond – if LP was to be believed – Louie usually wearing green and Huey usually wearing red (Darkwing nearly made a crack about it at the time, but Launchpad had a few snappy comments about wearing purple in return). From what he'd heard about their personalities, though, it would be interesting to meet them.

At the moment Launchpad's mouth was half-full of shrimp and mushroom tart, but that of course didn't stop him from talking. He seemed to have said something funny, as the others were all laughing.

"Great," Darkwing grumbled, though there was no real malice behind it. He of course understood the need to see someone you've missed. "Now I'm losing my audience…" He shrugged with obviously fake weariness – it wasn't as if this night was really about him, after all. "Oh, well. Might as well go over and say 'hi.'"

As he approached the boys were in the middle of grilling Launchpad about the multiverse, and Launchpad was trying to rattle off all the different parallel universes he had visited or heard about over the years.

"Let's see…" he was saying, counting on his fingers. "There's the Negaverse, of course. Uh… the one that was all post-apocalypse – no fun, that one. There's the one that that Darkwarrior fella ruled over. The one where DW was a robot – though we never got to see that one. And… hrm…"

"Don't forget the medieval one, LP," Darkwing said, by way of introduction. "I, for one, am definitely glad we don't have to deal with that Negarian any more. Yeesh, the fashion sense on that guy…"

Dewey's face lit up. "It's great to see you again, Mr. Darkwing!" He said brightly. Beside him his green suited brother's froze in surprise, while the last of the trio seemed mostly blasé.

"Likewise, my boy!" Darkwing smiled, shaking his hand.

Dewey snorted, though good-naturedly. "Heh, you sound like Uncle Scrooge," he said.

Darkwing flinched. "Hey now! I'm an experienced hero, but I'm not that experienced!"

Dewey started laughing again, muffling his apology, and so did Launchpad. Years ago, Darkwing might have been insulted, but never let it said that he couldn't take a joke now – at least, not one from a spirit young lad. He shrugged, and turned to the rest of the group. The one who Darkwing was pretty sure was Huey had seemingly gotten bored, and was reading over some files instead – like uncle, like nephew – but the one in green was still staring at him.

"Quackaroonie!" He said breathlessly. "You really did meet him!"

"Of course, Lou! What, did you guys think I was lying or something?"

Huey smirked, but didn't look up from his files – again giving Darkwing déjà vu back to brunch with Scrooge. "Lying? No. Embellishing? Sure."

Dewey looked affronted, but Huey didn't bother looking up to see his face. Meanwhile, Louie finally worked up his nerve and shuffled forward, extending a shaky hand. "H-hi, Mr. Darkwing Duck, sir! My name is Loony – I mean, L-louie Duck, and… oh phooey, I…"

"Calm down, Corporal Kiss-Up," Huey rolled his eyes. "If only you got this excited about stuff that matters." He glanced at Darkwing. "No offense."

"Come on! How often do go to a party with real, live superhero? He's out there battling the forces of evil every day!"

"This isn't a party, it's a press conference. And we talk to Gizmoduck like, five times a week when we're in town!" Huey said. "You said 'hi' to him this morning! Not to mention we've battled the forces of evil a bunch of times, I'd say."

"That doesn't count!"

Dewey sighed, in that tell-tale long suffering way. "Just try to show a little composure, Lou. Uncle Scrooge wants us here representing the future of the Duck family and all that. He wants us paying attention, knowing what to do when its our turn doing stuff like this. Don't you think it'd look kind of silly if instead we walked around getting starstruck?"

Louie winced. "Yeah… I guess you're right." Louie turned back to Darkwing, and held out his hand more formally. Darkwing, despite still feeling a little awkward, happily shook it. "Sorry, Mr. Darkwing. But meeting you is still definitely awesome, sir!"

"Nothing of it, my boy," Darkwing said with a glorious air, and he shook Louie's hand more vigorously than he had Dewey's. He never could resist showing off for a fan. "Always happy to meet a fellow lover of justice!"

Louie made a high pitched squeak, composed himself, and mumbled something about needing a snack before shuffling off to the hors d'ouvres tables with an enormous grin on his face.

Huey rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother. Literally."

Dewey nudged him with his elbow. "Hey, at least he's keeping it mellow, Hue."

They all watched as Louie wandered about the snack bar on autopilot, throwing random things onto a pile of food that was looking increasingly unstable by the second.

Huey glanced at his brother, and reluctantly shared a smile. "Come on. Better go reel in the starstruck goober before he dumps a load of shrimp on his shoes." He nodded to Darkwing and Launchpad and left to offer his brother another plate. "Good to finally meet you I guess, Darkwing."

Dewey lingered for a moment, to say goodbye. "He probably means it, too. Huey always speaks his mind." He shrugged. "But that's the family, you know?" He hurried off to join his brothers, and the three were soon laughing together again and they split Louie's enormous plate in three.

Darkwing watched them go, feeling very proud of himself. "Yep, yep, yep. Still got it, LP."

"Thanks for that, laddie." Scrooge came up from behind, with a familiar face in tow. Fenton Crackshell stood next to him, waving very obviously at Darkwing and Launchpad.

Fenton leapt forward and wrung Darkwing's hand tight. "Real pleasure to see you ag– I mean, meet you for the first time, Darkwing Duck!" He winced, already hearing his mistake.

Darkwing's upper lip twitched. "The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Crackshell!" He replied, emphasizing the name. The hard tone made Fenton back up, laughing sheepishly, so Darkwing turned to Scrooge. "Always nice to hear thanks for a billionaire, but what is it that I'm supposed to have done? Besides charm the younger generation with my roguish accolades, of course."

"No, it's exactly that lad, though I wouldn't quite put it that way," Scooge continued. "Those three are me' pride and joy. They've all got big futures ahead of 'em. But poor Louie, he needs a little help seeing it sometimes. He's so… aimless, nowadays."

"A good kid like Louie always finds his path." Launchpad said sagely, as he started throwing appetizers in his mouth again. "It's like my old man used to tell me-"

Darkwing groaned. "Is this another one of those stories that ends with your father kicking you out of the house?"

Launchpad blinked at him. "… maybe? Is that bad?"

"Whatever the case," Scrooge cut them off. He was, after all, just as used to Launchpad's asides. "It's nice to see the boy excited about something. Undecided in school. Undecided in life. It pains me heart. And ah know it bothers his brothers too, sometimes. The boy believes strongly, for sure. But he just doesn't seem te know what te do about it. It's a poor trait in a business man."

"I dunno, Mr. McDuck. I've always admired Louie's keen moral center." Fenton said. "Maybe he's just not cut out to be a businessman."

Scrooge rounded on him. "And what's that supposed to mean?" He said angrily.

Realizing his mistake, Fenton started to sweat. "I… um… well… that is…"

"Never mind that." Scrooge snapped. "Are all the arrangements done? If there's but a tablecloth out of alignment, I'll bump ye so far down ye'll wish ye were counting beans!"

Fenton grinned, albeit nervously. This was at least a grateful subject change. "No problem at all, Mr. McDuck. Everything's A-OK!"

"Very well then. Did ye remember to arrange the front row seats fer the press? We want every bee in both cities to be abuzz about this! And the seats for other billionaires in attendance… way in the back! Heh heh!" He allowed himself a brief chuckle. "And their gift baskets, in case they complain. I've been looking for something to do with those blasted 'vintage coins from Trala La.'"

"It's all taken care of!" Fenton chuckled. "Prime seating for the press, and gift baskets for the billionaire's club!"

Scrooge breathed a sigh in relief.

"… or was that gift baskets for the press, and prime seating for the billionaire's…?"

Scrooge stopped, and stared at him. For a long moment.

"Crackshell," he said slowly. "Ye do know that if the press thinks we're giving them fancy gifts, ah'll be up to me earlobes in bribery accusations?"

Fenton gulped. "… right. Of course. So, I'm just gonna go make sure that's all straightened out, then?" Seeing Scrooge's blank look start to turn into a glare, he started backing away slowly. "See ya!"

He zipped off faster than one could say "switcheroo," presumably to find one of the staff and cajole them into helping him swipe gift baskets. Scrooge groaned, burying his face in his palm.

Darkwing watched this of all with fascination. As someone who didn't know Fenton very well but was well acquainted with his armored alter-ego, it often seemed to Darkwing like Fenton's foolish behavior had to be some kind of act. Gizmo-Duck was campier than a fairground in July sometimes, but Fenton was another level of goofball altogether. It was sometimes hard to reconcile the eccentric, foolhardy gofer with the lionhearted superhero.

Scrooge once explained that Gizmoduck suit gave Fenton the confidence and inspiration to act in ways that he would never bring himself to act otherwise – which Darkwing had little experience with. For him, for Crimson and even for Techno, being a hero was a natural extension of themselves. But he took Scrooge's word for it.

So "reassured" about the state of the amenities, Scrooge walked off – grumbling under his breath about "incompetent but cheap help." Darkwing tried not to laugh.

Just as he disappeared, a young woman stepped up to them, a face Darkwing instantly recognized from television - and even if he didn't, her press hat and the conspicuous golden gift basket - Scrooge would not be happy – gave her away as a reporter. He stood up straighter and puffed out his chest, instantly going into "public appearance" mode.

The reporter looked slightly disappointed to have just missed the multi-trillionaire of the hour, but enthusiastically threw her hand out to shake all the same.

"Darkwing Duck!" She said brightly. "You might remember me: Julia Plumis from News on the Wing? I covered your award ceremony after Negaduck's defeat. Spare a word for the public?"

"Ah, I remember that." Darkwing said pompously. "I especially liked the way you described me 'staunch in the face of adversity, singed but triumphant!' That's one of my own phrases, you know?"

Plumis laughed. "Is it? I'll have to quote you next time." She looked like she had another joke in her, but it was cut off – for suddenly, leapt out of her skin. Out of nowhere, Fenton appeared at her side and swiped the gift based out of her hand. "Whoa! Hey!"

"Sorry!" He squeaked sheepishly, already dipping into the crowd. "Oversight! Not worth explaining, I promise!" A moment later he was gone, having deftly struck the conversation straight in the funny bone.

Launchpad cleared his throat. "So… you also did that story on the Fearsome Five, right?" Launchpad said. "And nearly lost your head for your trouble, I hear."

"Yeah… I got a few splinters, it's true."

"I'd prefer if the press didn't encourage the criminal element like that," Darkwing huffed. "I'd prefer something more biased towards justice – to tell the stories that need to be told."

"You know, the Five actually said something similar. But my story was informative first, biased second. The public deserves to know the truth, no matter how light or dark it is." At this she faltered slightly. She looked a tad uncomfortable. "You actually inspired me, you know? You saved my life one, and I never forgot it."

Darkwing puffed out his chest. "Happy to be of service!" He said pompously. Launchpad rolled his eyes, knowing his friend would soon being diving into "total braggart" mode. "Well, if it's a story an inspired young reporter such as yourself needs, why settle for mere past exploits when I've got a hundred newsworthy stories under my belt from this week alone?"

"Ah. Well… actually, I…"

But she had asked for it, and once having gotten going it would take a miracle to make Darkwing stop. "Why, just last last Tuesday I faced the deceitful Dr. Slug in a fearsome fight for the fate of all Calisota! - the story hasn't broken yet, so you'll be the first to know. It started when I deduced that the strange wave of blue graffiti littering the city was actually connected to the Ancient Cult of Solego…"

Suspecting that this typical collision of Darkwing's ego and the press would take quite a while, he took the opportunity to excuse himself and wander around the reception.

Being Launchpad McQuack, it wasn't long before his wanderings took him back to the snack table – where he bumped into another familiar face. Almost literally: he was reaching for a bit of sushi, when his hand collided with another. It snapped back, though more with catlike grace than with alarm. He looked up, and his face practically started glowing.

"Mia!" Launchpad grinned. He also pulled back, letting her get first pick of the sushi instead. "What are you doing here? On a case?"

She put her hand to her lips. She had that look in her eyes, the one all secret agents have that makes you wonder whether any "accidental" meetings were really accidents. "Don't cause a scene. SHUSH has an interest in making sure this event goes smoothly, so they sent me and a few others as extra… 'security.'" Her face wrinkled, as if she were displeased by the phrase.

"Oh!" Launchpad said. "I'm surprised they didn't tell us. We could've worked together."

She nodded. "And if it were up to me, we would've – especially after the Institute fiasco. But top brass is still so stubborn about you guys right now." She covered her mouth, laughing softly. "But don't let the Director know I said that."

"Hey, my lips are sealed."

Snacks were quickly forgotten. The two began to drift away from the food – no small feat, in Launchpad's case – and into the crowd, though they paid the other patrons little mind.

"So, you're here to do the ol' protect and serve?" Launchpad asked. "Mr. McDee will appreciate that, so long as he doesn't have to pay. No offense."

"None taken," she explained, laughing. "We know Scrooge McDuck well. Luckily, it's all public service. Though," and at this, she frowned. "I'm also here on another matter."

Launchpad looked to her to explanation, but Mia simply pointed to the corner of the room where a large table sat, slightly out of the way. A decently sized entourage was gathered around it.

"Recognize him?" She asked, pointing to the person seated at the center of the group. It was a thin, elderly duck with spectacles and a bowler hat. The people surrounding him were all well dressed and clearly affluent middle-aged ducks, who seemed to hang onto his every word.

Launchpad nodded. "Yeah, that's J. D. Rockerduck. More of Mr. McDee's competition, though compared to guys like Glomgold he's not so bad," he scoffed, just thinking about his unfortunate meetings with Scrooge's nemesis. "Don't even get me started on that guy."

"Trust me, SHUSH is no fan of Glomgold either. And he'll be around soon enough too, I'm sure of it. But for now, my concern is getting to talk to Rockerduck. It's something that's rather important, but wouldn't you know we're finding it a bit hard to get face time with him." She smirked. "You'd almost think he was avoiding us."

Launchpad scratched his head. "Gee, must be something really important. Either that or something he doesn't think is worth his time."

"A little bit of A, a little bit of B most likely. It's starting to get annoying. So I was wondering if you might be able to give me an 'in.'" She turned to him, looking apologetic, "I hate to ask, but your history with Scrooge should at least give you the opportunity to mingle with the guy, which should give me the opportunity to get a few words in. Otherwise I might have to spend all night trying to find the right time to corner him."

"Hey," Launchpad shrugged. "Sounds like a hoot!"

Mia smiled in silent thanks, and looped her arm in his. He flushed, but tried not to let it show. Having stumbled once more into a brief bit of espionage, he didn't want to bungle it.

As they approached, Rockerduck was already halfway through delivering a long winded explanation to his entourage. Either he didn't notice their approach, or he didn't think they would bother him, as he didn't stop.

"Yes, yes. Scrooge does well and good cleaning up after the disaster," he was saying as they walked up, "but as usual the old fool missed the real opportunity."

"That seems a bit premature, eh wot," said one of the stuffier looking businessmen. "It seems that, as usual, McDuck has made quite the boodle for himself. His investors likely have nothing to worry about."

Rockerduck gave the investor a dirty look. "Listen, young man. I know the full scope of this business is difficult to fathom, but try to keep up." The businessman, who would not have been a spring chicken even if he were a chicken, blustered at being called "young man," but ruefully clammed up.

"As I was saying," Rockerduck continued, "the real marvel here isn't in the rebuilding effort. Scrooge has been rebuilding disaster areas for decades now. It's in what this catastrophe made us pay attention to. Interdimensional portals. Magic. Supervillains. People knew about these things before, yes, but now we're truly starting to understand them. Me, personally? I tried to learn a fair bit more about trons. They're powerful things."

He paused for dramatic effect, and Launchpad took the opportunity to chime in without thinking. "I'd say so! Those folks from Negaverse really pack a punch!" He winced immediately, realizing his possible mistake, but Mia didn't nudge him like he expected.

Indeed, as she expected an old fashioned fat cat like Rockerduck looked straight at Launchpad and, as long as she didn't say anything, barely spared her a sideways glance.

"Ah, Mr. Launchpad McQuack! It has been entirely too long," Rockerduck said with an idle wave. "Come closer, you of all people should definitely want to hear this."

He went back to addressing the table. "Trons are no secret. They teach about them in grade school. But nobody takes them seriously. Until now. Alternate dimensions overflowing with negatrons invades our own? People start getting nervous. What is it about these supposed building blocks of good and evil that breeds such…" he stopped again, looking for the right word. "…hostility? And more importantly, is it happening here?"

Rockerduck had everyone's attention now. He became more animated, relishing the tension. "People are starting to truly believe in those fickle little particles. That makes them afraid. Makes them think. If trons are behind everyone's good and bad sides, maybe they're the reason bad people do bad things. Maybe that can be changed."

Launchpad tensed, as he thought of the all too familiar danger ahead of this train of thought. This, he realized, must have been exactly why Mia needed this audience.

"Like Scrooge," Rockerduck continued. "I'm well versed in helping people while making a pretty penny. Let the old boy have his moment. Once our research completes, with your help of course," he added, speaking to ducks but addressing their wallets. "Rockerduck will be the number one name in rehabilitation. The only name! Prisons will be revolutionized. Criminals will be off the streets. Even regular therapy will be a thing of the past. The world will be a safer, happier place – all thanks to technology provided by our company.

He received a small applause, from all except two. From them, his ideas earned only disdain.

Detaching from Launchpad's side, Mia spoke up at last. "And what about the ethical concerns, Mr. Rockerduck."

Rockerduck's eyes bugged out. "Eh?" He rose to his feet and looked around wildly, searching for the comment's source. He quickly zeroed in on Mia, who to be fair wasn't trying to hide so his eyes soon found the two of them. He blinked in surprise, but continued. "I'm sorry… who is your charming attaché, Mr. McQuack?"

"Gingivere." She replied, ignoring the fact that he addressed Launchpad and not her. "Mia Gingivere."

Rockerduck's charm evaporated immediately. Clearly, he recognized the name. "Ah, yes. You have been corresponding with my secretary, I believe."

"Yes I have." She said with an unaffected air. Launchpad just sat back and watched the show. "And my organization has a vested interest in the kind of work you're suggesting."

"Pish," he scoffed. "SHUSH has no jurisdiction over private research."

Mia's expression didn't change. "We do if work involving it is restricted. It's a rickety bridge your company is treading now, Rockerduck. Tron research has shut down, even by us, for a good reason."

But this Rockerduck just waved off. "I'm sure that SHUSH has fallen into the pitfalls of irresponsible research," he said quickly, "but you'll find that once our R&D finishes on the track they're going, the applications will overcome those questionable early stages." He looked around wildly, trying to stop the conversation from concerning his investors with limited success.

"You mean you can find a loophole once you crack the science. I'm sure you could. I'm not a scientist, but I've seen them work out technicalities better than most lawyers." Mia's glare hardened, and even Rockerduck had to stop schmoozing and just listen. "But manipulating trons is dangerous and unpredictable enough that we have to ask that you to stop your experiments before it gets to that point where you would need a loophole. Right now, we're asking politely."

Rockerduck gulped, but didn't back down – at least not fully. "Fine, then. If you're so timid about this area, we can show you it's worth. We'll shut down production and research for now, pending a visit from one of your inspectors. How's that."

"It's a start." Mia grunted. "SHUSH Central will be in touch about scheduling soon." She was already turning to leave, nearly leaving behind a surprised Launchpad who shot around to join her

"Next time," Rockerduck shouted at their backs. He looked thoroughly disgruntled and unhappy – and why not? He had just been shut down right in the middle of his miracle pitch. His investors were filtering away by the second. "I should hope you would contact me in a less… publically unprofessional way."

"Fair enough." She turned back, just enough that Rockerduck could see her unimpressed expression. "So next time, I'd prefer to be able to schedule an appointment"

Then she walked away, and didn't look back again. But Launchpad did, taking note Rockerduck's lingering glare. "Wow, that was fast. And boy, does he look mad!"

"Yeah." Mia said, knowing what Launchpad was talking about without even having to look. "I don't know if he'll listen to the message, but at least it was delivered. He's got no plausible deniability now. We'll keep watching, and if anything happens on his head."

"I guess. Darkwing ought to know about this stuff too. Everything he was saying about messing with trons… that never ends well." He looked over to the far side of the room, where Darkwing was still blathering on. Plumis had evidently stopped fighting it, and was instead taking avid notes. "But, I'm guessing DW will be busy for a while. This'll keep until after tonight." He glanced over at Mia, catching her eye with a smile. "And Mr. McDee's presentation isn't starting for a half hour or so. Maybe we could relax a while? Might be fun."

"Fun? In company like this?" She smiled, teasingly. "I suppose anything is possible…"


Across Town, On Duckburg's Boardwalk,

Like father, like daughter – Gosalyn was also still complaining about their little spat even hours later. But unlike her father, she actually had an attentive – if begrudging - audience.

"I just don't get Dad anymore," she groused, talking to Honker but not at Honker. "It's not like he ever had a problem with us doing stuff together before."

Having had a lot of experience with Mallard family spats, Honker usually knew how to placate situations like this. But as the subject of this disagreement involved him, to say the least, he approached it more awkwardly. "Yeah, but we weren't officially... erm..." he reddened slightly. "...dating before."

Gosalyn waved it off. "Oh, like we haven't always been joined at the hip anyway!" She shot back, thinking of all the times since they were kids that the two had proven their bond. She quickly lost count. "If he thought we couldn't be trusted together, you think he wouldn't let us go out on patrol, alone, in the middle of the night!"

"That's different. We both know the job is way too important to sully with… er… dalliances." He blushed automatically, cursing his overly erudite vocabulary.

Gosalyn thankfully overlooked his choice of words. "But we don't know the difference in actual public? Come on!" She snorted. "Did you know that my dad actually used to pull for the two of us getting together? I managed to weasel it out of Launchpad. Something about 'not trusting anybody else,' apparently. Yeah, right!"

Honker was definitely red now. Gosalyn didn't seem to know the effect her words were having. "To be fair," he said quickly, cutting her off before he could hear anything that might make him flush to death. "T-there's a bit of difference between speculating and seeing it happen in front of you."

"Oh, don't take his side," she huffed, but it was soft and there was little real anger in her words. She just couldn't stay mad now – like father, like daughter. She leaned into Honker's shoulder, only idly venting. "Always the devil's advocate. You should be angrier."

"I think he trusts us just fine." Honker said reasonably. "He's just… trying to adjust to the idea. And you know your dad – he resists things like this on principle. But he's not stopping us, is he?" Gosalyn groaned – he had a point, but she still wanted to be annoyed. Honker caught the almost-calm look on her face and smiled. "Besides, what's there to be angry about? It's a beautiful day, and I'm in the best company."

"If you're trying to be slick," she teased, knowing "slick" wasn't in Honker's dictionary, "don't forget that I just heard you use the word 'dalliances' in an actual conversation."

Honker groaned, but took the hit with a chuckle. "I mean it. Duckburg really is a gorgeous town. And the weather!" He took a deep breath. "You'd never think our cities were so close."

"I prefer the concrete jungle."

"Says the girl who wants to vacation to 'the wide open airways Cape Suzette' every year," Honker said, shooting her a teasing look right back. "I'm serious. I wouldn't mind being here for a while. I've mostly been looking at SHUSH Academy so far, but who knows? I did get accepted to Duckburg University of Chresmatistics and Kalology."

Gosalyn failed to answer, quirking Honker's concern. Gosalyn rarely failed to voice something, even if it was that she didn't want to talk anymore. When he looked at her, she was staring at the ground. "Is something wrong?" He said.

"Just... schools." She sighed. You talk like that, but I know you. You already made your entire life plan five times over. Mouseton Institute of Technology, right? And then when that didn't work out you already had a backup plan in place, and a backup for that backup." Honker groaned dramatically, pretending to have been found out in some great secret. It made her smile, to see him so confident. "You've practically got your boots on to take that next step. But I'm still lacing up. It's a big choice. It's all kind of intimidating, isn't it?"

"You? Intimidated by a tough decision? What alternate universe did I accidentally fall into this time?" Honker said, half sarcastic and half genuinely surprised. "Didn't you get accepted into St. Canard College? That's a great school, not far from home."

"I'm leaning that way, but... I dunno. I guess I don't want to pick my horse just yet."

"You're running out of time to make that bet," he chided. "What about SHUSH? They offered you a college equivalent in their training program."

Gosalyn shook her head. "That's no good at all. I always liked and respected Hooter when he was Director, but you've seen how SHUSH operates, especially now. I don't want any part of that." She paused. "Well… any more of it than I have to take."

"Well, what about-"

Gosalyn cut him off. "Look, it's not that I don't have good choices, it's just… look, I've got a good thing here, you know? What if I just did online courses? I could go to school and keep protecting St. Canard. Rather than picking just one."

"And then you can keep doing exactly what you're doing, without school upsetting your life." Honker said slowly, working through what the problem really was. He winced. "Oh, Gos..."

"What?" She pushed slightly away from him, eyes narrowing into the same look she had given her father not long before.

He flinched at the glare, but kept going. "Well, it sounds like what's really bugging you is the change."

"Maybe, but so what? Like I said, why upset something good? We just saved all of St. Canard not long ago, together. We can't do that when we're all split halfway across the state!"

"You've got nothing to worry about, Gos. We're not going to grow apart just because of a little-."

"Psh." She rolled her eyes, literally waving that whole direction away. "I'm not worried about losing you. No offense. It's just… sometimes I look around my neighborhood and think, 'what if this all falls apart because I'm not here?' It's happened before, it could happen again. It probably will happen again."

"Spoken like a true superhero."

"I'm serious! What if, while I'm off playing the good student, everything goes to heck in a handbasket? There could be another Negaduck on the rise right now! Or worse, what if I come back and I've lost what it takes to… erm…" She trailed off and looked away, suddenly evasive. But Honker followed her eyes and saw her staring at the rooftops, looking wistful. And at once, he understood.

"You won't lose Crimson, either." Honker said earnestly, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'll admit, you've always loved the hero life more than me. Maybe even more than your dad does."

"Please. Nobody loves being a hero more than him."

"Doubtful, but even if that were true - you thrive off the stress and rise to the conflict. It makes you stronger, it always has. Your dad saw it from the moment he adopted you. And I always saw it too… I… I guess it's what drew me to you, when we were kids." Now it was Gosalyn's turn to turn red – much like seeing Scrooge flustered, it was a rare occasion in its own right. "So you can't hit the rooftops for a while. So what? If seven years of swearing it off couldn't drain the hero out of you, I'd be surprised if living few miles out of town and taking a few classes could."

"Jeez, you're just full of advice today." Gosalyn said, pretending to be irritated. "Great. I'm dating my therapist."

Honker looked at her, genuinely confused. "Isn't that part of the 'significant other' job description? And the sidekick position. Not the mention the "best friends for years" bit. Besides, you've given me loads of serious therapy over the years. Mostly the 'sink or swim' kind…"

Gosalyn raised an eyebrow, ignoring his sarcasm. "'Significant other?' 'Dalliances.' What kind of love stories have you been watching?"

"Evidently, the ones with intelligent protagonists."

"Just a barrel of laughs, Honk-man." They shared a grin, though she took note of the concern still on his face. "But really, I get it. It's not serious, I swear. I'm just… worried."

"You really are turning into your dad."

"Don't you dare! I'm not that much of a worrywart!" She nudged him in the ribs, cutting off his laughter. "But I guess it's easier to have boundless confidence when you're a kid, huh?"

"Please," Honker said, rubbing his poked midsection. "Confidence never was easy for me. But then, that's what I had you for. Thanks for that, by the way."

Gosalyn smirked. "Oh, that's all I was, huh? An easy source of pats on the back?"

"Well, that and giving Tank his just desserts every once in a while."

She was about to fire back with another stinger, when they spotted something in the distance – or rather someone.

"Hey, isn't that Mrs. Beakley?" She asked, pointing to a small bistro at the end of the boardwalk. There, sitting under an umbrella with someone whose back was to them, was clearly the old woman they had said goodbye to not long before. "I thought she was back at McDuck's place."

Honker squinted, peering in the direction Gosalyn indicated until he spotted her too. "So it is. She must have gone out for a bit."

Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. "Isn't she sick? Why would she come out this far alone?"

Honker shrugged. "Want to go find out?"

"Got nothing better to do…"

The quickly made their way over to the bistro. As they got closer, they saw that Mrs. Beakley was actually in a very deep conversation – or at least, she was being given a very long monologue. She didn't notice them approach, but whoever she was with was gabbing up a storm. Mrs. Beakley couldn't seem to get a word in edgewise but, being the kindly old lady she was, she was listening intently.

"… and then he says I have to have a distinctive gimmick," the woman was saying. "He doesn't even have a gimmick, but I need one to get the job? I swear… but I showed them, I'd say, I-"

Gosalyn and Honker walked up behind Mrs. Beakley's companion, waving. "Hey, Mrs. B!" Gosalyn shouted.

She waved back, with a smile. "Gosalyn! Hello, dear! How funny, running into you and your young man here!"

Honker reddened at being called "her young man," but Gosalyn – as usual – kept on going. "Same! What brings you to the beach?"

"Oh! Where are my manners!" Mrs. Beakley gasped. She gestured to her companion, who was looking rather irritated at the interruption. "My niece happened to be in town, and she seems to like this restaurant. She insisted we meet here."

For the first time, Gosalyn and Honker really paid attention the woman sitting across from Mrs. Beakley. She shot them an annoyed glance, but that was nothing on the looks on their faces. She wore stylish shades and a hat, and was a bit too dolled up for a casual day out, but the two of them could still easily recognize her very familiar face.

"Bianca Beakley?" They both gasped in shock.

Honest confusion crossed the supervillain's face. "Yeah, what's it to... wait, Gosalyn?" She faltered, taking a good look at Gosalyn's features. Her eyes opened wide. "Not... Gosalyn Mallard?"

Gosalyn said nothing – only, to Bianca's obvious discomfort, responding with a vicious staredown. Honker was already checking the surrounding area. If things went south, they wanted a way to get Mrs. Beakley out of there and keep anybody from getting hurt.

"Oh, you two have met?" Mrs. Beakley said brightly, completely oblivious. "I suppose it's possible. You're both from St. Canard, aren't you?"

"You could say that," Bianca said awkwardly. She found it hard to look away from Gosalyn's furious stare, even for a moment. "It was a long time ago... er... before my current circumstances..."

"Yeah," Gosalyn grunted. She didn't break her glare either. "Long time ago."

"Wonderful!" Mrs. Beakley said happily. "Bianca was just telling me about how she had to take a break from her news career to... what was it dear? Star in a movie?"

"Yes. I was playing a criminal mastermind," Bianca said pointedly, giving Gosalyn a meaningful look. The message was clear: "don't ruin my cover, or I'll make us both regret it."

Honker put a hand on Gosalyn's shoulder, but she didn't need his advice this time. It was a sour situation. They didn't have their suits, and running off and changing could tip off either Beakley about their secret identities - not to mention put Mrs. Beakley in real danger. It was better to play along for now.

But that didn't mean she had to take it lying down. "Oh, I don't know about mastermind," She smirked. "It was more of a bit role."

Bianca choked on her own indignity, but forced herself to calm down – knowing Gosalyn was trying to get a rise out of her. She bit back a response, and forced an obviously fake smile.

Still clueless, Mrs. Beakley continued the conversation. She seemed to be enjoying the chance to lead the chat. "Of course! I think I did hear about something like that. But our sides of the family are so out of touch these days..."

"I'm sure," Gosalyn said evenly, finally breaking her dirty look. She turned to Mrs. Beakley, smiling as though nothing had happened. "In that case, I wouldn't want to get in the way of you guys' reunion. I'll see you later, okay?"

Bianca flinched. "W-what?" Bianca yelped, waving her hands in a very unsubtle way. "No, you just got here. Stay, and have a drink!"

"Nonsense, Bianca," Mrs. Beakley chuckled, stifling coughs. "Those two are in each other's company! Let them enjoy their youth."

Honker didn't blush this time, but he did give Mrs. Beakley a smile and a stiff "thank you, ma'am."

Gosalyn gave Mrs. Beakley a hug, but her eyes narrowed as she took in the woman's pallid demeanor. "Try to stay out of the sun, Mrs. B. You don't look too good." She threw a last look at Bianca, and this time her meaning was clear: "if anything happens to her, I'll make you regret it." Bianca scowled, but Gosalyn couldn't care less about her reaction.

"Thank you, dear." Mrs. Beakley replied – again missing the nonverbal battle in front of her. "But I'm sure I'll be fine."

Gosalyn and Honker pretended to be satisfied with her reassurance, but before Bianca could make another attempt to keep them there they quickly waved goodbye and beat a retreat – leaving the two Beakleys alone at the bistro.

Bianca stared after them, her eye twitching.

Mrs. Beakley giggled, a little roughly given her cough. "What a wonderful young lady, isn't that right Bianca?"

Bianca, who even before Gosalyn showed up had yet to pay much sympathy to her aunt or her health, waved this off. "Er… sure, whatever." She said abruptly. "Sorry, but I have to make a phone call."

"Oh!" Mrs. Beakley blinked, surprised. "Of course, my dear. Take your time."

Without another word, Bianca jumped out of her seat – knocking it over – and hurried around the corner to where the bistro's dumpster sat. Checking the area, she made absolutely sure that nobody was around to hear her, and then she activated a bud in her ear.

"Hello? Anybody there? HELLO?"

"Easy britches, mate," came the accented voice of a certain felonious otter. "I'm here. Though I don't know why you are. Emergency's only on your end, remember? What, bistro run outta biscuits?"

Bianca gritted her teeth. "This is an actual emergency, you twit!" She shouted. "I just ran into someone who might have made me!"

Rowe's tone changed immediately. "What? But all you had to do was entertain the old biddy! How'd that go wrong?!"

"Apparently my aunt knows that little girl that helped Darkwing bring me in years back, and she just happened to stroll by. There's no doubt that she remembered me."

There was a long silence. Broken, to her fury, by Quackerjack's jumping onto the line.

"Bianca Beakley: Traumatic to Minors! Hee hee! That's a hoot!"

"Can we get serious?" she hissed. "And aren't you supposed to be waiting tables or something?"

"That's right! Turns out I do my job without getting caught, who'd've thought?" Quackerjack said, in an infuriatingly teasing voice. "I only said it because Camille didn't… for some reason."

Rowe's voice chimed in. "That is a bit weird, mate. Camille, you on the line or what?"

"Can we get back to me?!" Bianca screeched, loud and shrill enough that she could hear a pair of yelps from the other side of the line. "Look, I tried to play it off but she didn't buy it! And I couldn't stop her from leaving without making a scene! She'll go straight to the cops! Or worse!"

"Then get out of there." Rowe said reasonably. "Neither the girl nor the old lady should be able get back to the mansion in time to get in the way anyway, and we can't have you getting caught and putting the city on high alert in ways we can't control."

"Gee, really?" Bianca droned. "I hadn't considered that."

"Or you can stay there and get into an action packed fistfight with the cops," Quackerjack shot back. "At least then we'd get some fun out of this snafu. Hoo hoo!"

"Yeah… don't do that, mate."

There was the sound of dual "clicks," signifying that the two had both hung up. Bianca groaned, pulling hard on one of her bangs until it hurt too much to continue.

"Such a big help!" She ranted. "Ugh! Those two would make wonderful producers."

Rowe was right, though – however much she didn't want to admit it. Cutting her losses and getting out of there was the best course of action, unless she wanted to get nabbed. Her aunt would just have to get caught up with her life later.

She rushed back to their table to break the bad news, but her escape was cut short when she saw a nasty sight. The table was tipped over, the umbrella was upended, and her aunt was below it all. As far as Bianca could tell, she had apparently gotten up to right the chair Bianca had knocked over earlier, but somewhere along the way had ended up on the ground.

Bianca tentatively went to her side. "Um… Auntie?" She asked weakly, shaking her shoulder. Mrs. Beakley shuddered, but only feebly. Her breath was ragged with coughs. "Are you… er… alright, there?"

Mrs. Beakley blinked her eyes open, but they were pale and unfocused. "Oh, don't bother dear…" she rasped. "It's just… the heat…" She trailed off, falling into unconsciousness.

It was certainly not the heat. Or at least, not just the heat. Bianca hadn't paid attention when her aunt mentioned feeling unwell, but clearly she should have. This looked like severe exhaustion. Mrs. Beakley was sweating horribly, and seemed to be unable to so much as lift herself off the ground. Perhaps not staying in bed was a bad idea after all.

Bianca scowled again. Of all the rotten luck: first she gets made, and now this. No jury in the world would show mercy after a sweet old lady – let alone one tight with Scrooge McDuck - got sent to the hospital after Bianca, a supervillain, lured her away from safety. Especially once the Five set off their master plan tonight.

Her first instinct was to just continue cutting her losses and beat a hasty retreat, but that would look even worse. Mallard had spotted her, and was probably on her way to call the cops. Ditching her sickly aunt now would cause a more unpleasant scene than getting her to some kind of help and vanishing as soon as she could.

The good deed might even score her some brownie points. Not that she had any particular interest in karma.

But the question was: where to take her? A big hospital would inevitably discover who she was very quickly. And this wasn't her town – she didn't know where the smaller places were. There didn't seem an easy way to deal with this problem and protect herself at the same time – and she hated that.

Luckily, a way out was about to present itself. "Hello there!" Came an awkward sounding voice from behind her. "I was just passing by and… do you need some help?"

She stood corrected - of all the fabulous luck!


Meanwhile, Outside McDuck Manor

Rowe trudged back to the ready position, grumbling under his breath about "incompetent ex-reporters." McDuck Manor was empty – something he had to remind himself here and there just because of how grand it was to see – so nobody was around to hear him.

Nobody except, perhaps, his temporary partner.

Cementhead stood under a tree not far from the entrance, just outside the range of McDuck's many security cameras. He was watching the entrance, perhaps feeling that same unease. When Rowe approached, he turned his head ever so slightly to regard him.

"Problem, boss?"

"Don't call me boss." He grunted. "And yeah, mate. Beakley got made. We'll have to step things up. Bushie's gonna make us into fertilizer – he spent weeks planning this thing right down to the minute."

"That bird is a bit of a drain, I ever tell you that?"

Rowe wasn't sure which bird Cementhead was talking about, but the idea of agreeing with the the brute made his lip curl. "We all have our shortcomings, mate."

"Some moreso than others."

"Let's just get to it, shall we?" Rowe said snappishly.

Cementhead shrugged, but he did turn back to the Manor. "Care to explain the plan again, boss?"

Rowe's took a deep breath to restrain a snarl. "Simple, mate. We get in. And then we do whatever we want."

"Sounds like my kind of job." Cementhead grinned, cracking his enormous knuckles with a sound like splintered trees.

"I'm sure, mate. But whatever you do, do it loud. This time, we want attention."

"Loud? That won't be a problem." Cementhead chuckled. He stomped forward through the estate, shaking the ground with every step, until he faced the doors to the mansion. Scrooge's security had to have caught a look at him already, but he didn't care: without stopping, he stepped up to the door and raised his hand as if about to knock.

And so he knocked. And the door was ripped right off of its hinges…


Back At The Conference,

A half hour later found Darkwing leaning against a wall on the wrong end of veritable mob of reporters, politicians and business – that is, the end not pointed at him.

By this point, Scrooge's presentation was underway and he had long since lost his audience. Scrooge had the crowd huddled around a stage, where he stood next to a canvas covered by a tarp explaining the situation in St. Canard for those less invested. But since Darkwing was invested, he already knew everything Scrooge was saying about "Duckburg's sister city still being in dire straits even after some recovery" and McDuck "intending to use his resources to spearhead breathing life back," so he had nothing to do but stand around, play costumed security guard and wait for better news.

What he really wanted to know was what resources Scrooge intended to use, but as the pomp and circumstance went on even that thought was starting to lull. At the moment he only had Fenton for company, and already he was starting to think Gosalyn had the right idea skipping out on the whole thing and enjoying Duckburg instead. Perhaps he was too harsh on her after all.

Sighing that thought away for now, he scanned the crowd for what felt like the hundredth time – boring, but a necessity: at some point, Fenton had sidled up to him and refused to leave. What's more, he was evidently even more of a chatterbox in his secret identity than he was as Gizmoduck - He had spent the last twenty minutes talking about bean shipments of all things, and Darkwing really needed the distraction. Over by the hors d'oeuvres table, he could see Launchpad and Agent Mia chatting quietly as they watched Scrooge schmooze. Darkwing half-smiled, half-grimaced – at least somebody was having a good time.

Amongst the billionaires he counted out a few known faces, taking note that Flintheart Glomgold had finally arrived. As if he could feel Darkwing's eyes on him, Glomgold turned to glance at him, sneered, and turned his gaze back to Scrooge. Darkwing scowled – the guy made his skin crawl. But he had faced worse in his life than stuffy

Away from the stage, but not so far away as Darkwing himself, a few members of the staff were watching the presentation together, underneath the painted banner. He hoped they were on break – last thing he needed was disgruntled employees making things difficult.

But in any case, the only ones not watching were Huey, Dewey and Louie – who seemed to be having some sort of heated conversation among themselves. They seemed so blasé about the hullabaloo going on around them that Darkwing had to wonder how many of these big name events they'd had to sit through in their lives. Knowing their Uncle, it was possibly even more than he had.

Darkwing grunted as he realized his circle of observations came back to himself… again. It was a good way to pass the time, but it wasn't perfect.

And plus, he couldn't ignore Fenton forever. It was rude, even for him.

"... and that's how we discovered that the shipping magnate was actually running an international counterfeit lima bean racket – to think, all because one, single shipment was a mere 227 beans short! Gosh, you wouldn't believe…"

Then again…

He settled on a compromise: at the risk of hurting Fenton's feelings, actually asking him to shut up. "Er… look, Mr. Crackshell. This has really been fascinating, but in order to adequately do my job protecting this hall from danger, I'm going to need absolute si-"

At this moment, Darkwing's communicator went off - and he internally praised whatever gods manned the radio waves that it did. At once, he pulled even further away from the commotion and prepared to take the call with as much privacy as he could find.

Which, unfortunately, was not as much as he would've liked. Not with Fenton was right there with him. "Wait, what were you going to say? What do you need?"

"Sssh!" Darkwing hissed, gesturing for him to keep his voice down. He quickly waved for Launchpad to come over and dipped into a corner – with Fenton in tow, as unfortunately there was no leaving him out of this - waiting impatiently for his sidekick to break off from his conversation and join them before answering the line.

Gosalyn's face came up from the other side. She wasn't in uniform, but she wouldn't have used this line unless she were in private and had important news, so it was all business. Mostly. "Crimson… I'm sorry about earlier, I-"

"Thanks Darkwing, but there'll be time for that later." Gosalyn said curtly, her tone instantly confirming Darkwing's worries. "I've got bad news. I just ran into Bianca Beakley."

"You what? Ran into her? Where?"

"She's at the boardwalk, outside a quaint little bistro, eating biscuits and chatting it up with Mrs. Beakley."

"Talking to herself?" Launchpad whispered. "That's weird, even for an ego that big! Then again, you do that sometimes, right DW?"

"Not helping, LP!"

Fenton put a hand on his shoulder, and Darkwing fought the urge to grind his teeth. "No worries, Wingy. I do it too, sometimes."

"Not helping, bucketbeak!"

Gosalyn helpfully chose to ignore that last bit of conversation. Darkwing could have hugged her. "No, I mean the Mrs. Beakley who lives with Mr. McDuck!"There was a murmur as Techno said something offscreen, to which Crimson nodded. "Yeesh! Thanks for putting the image of a married Bianca Beakley in my head…"

Darkwing facepalmed. "Let me guess," he deadpanned. "They're related."

"Got it in one. Apparently Mrs. Beakley is Bianca's niece."

"Well, that figures."

"You know," Launchpad mused. "I never made the connection..."

"Tech and I are still in the area," Crimson continued. "We want to make sure Mrs. Beakley is safe: nothing dangerous seemed to be going on, but I don't like it all the same. According to Mrs. Beakley, Bianca was insistent on pulling Mrs. Beakley out of the house and to that specific bistro."

Darkwing's eyes narrowed. "But isn't she sick? That's… suspicious." He shared a glance with Launchpad, who shrugged. "A random attempt to catch up I could almost believe, but..."

Fenton crossed his arms. "With Mr. McDuck, if things don't add up then you're really in for disaster. Especially when it's something completely innocuous! Is Mrs. Beakley alright?"

"When we left she was fine. A little weary, but… it's definitely weird, right? Mrs. Beakley was all alone at the mansion anyway, minus the security system. Bianca wouldn't have had much to worry about. But it's like she pulled her as far..." She stopped suddenly. Techno could be heard gasping next to her. "As far away..." She said slowly, trailing off as the gears in her head turned, "… from McDuck Manor... as she could possibly get..."

The line went quiet for a moment, as father and daughter both realized the implications.

"On second thought," she said curtly. "I think we'll double back to the estate."

Darkwing nodded with a grimace. "Good idea, Crimson. Keep me posted."

"Golly, that's troubling news." Fenton said, wincing. "You don't think it's some kinda double play, do you?"

"If it is, we're not going to be caught with our feathers off. Launchpad!" he whispered under his breath, "let Agent Mia know at least one of the Five is in town, and that something strange might be going down at McDuck Manor. SHUSH will probably be able to let McDuck know without causing a panic."

"You betcha, DW!" With a salute, Launchpad leapt into action. A moment later he was weaving through the crowd, heading over to fill a concerned looking Mia in on the situation.

"If you'll excuse me, Darkwing. I need to go find my briefcase." Fenton turned to leave, but stopped as he saw something in the distance. "What? No!" He said, cringing.

Obliviously to Fenton's distress, Darkwing continued to make plans plans. "Good idea. Now is not the time to go guns blazing. Now's the time to wait and be prepared, and make sure nobody… leaves the…"

He finally turned and saw what Fenton was reacting to. On the other side of the room, Louie Duck was storming towards the exit. Huey was right behind him. And Dewey, looking a mix between frustrated and resigned, was taking up the rear. All three were out of the room before anyone could stop them.

"Oh, for Pete's sake."

"Oh, dear." Fenton said nervously. "Those boys have been arguing a lot more lately."

"A lot" was a very vague term, but it didn't bode well. Darkwing looked up at McDuck. As far as he knew Scrooge had no idea what was going on yet, but he had spotted the boys' spat right away. He cast a worried glance in their lost direction, but there only the briefest falter in his voice as he continued the presentation – when you're the richest duck in the world, the show must go on.

Without being obvious, Scrooge glanced over at Launchpad - but upon seeing his and Mia's tense conversation he instead gave a curt nod in Darkwing's direction, as if to ask the superhero to take care of it.

All things considered, Darkwing had to give it to him for being so efficient. He wondered if he'd still be that way once he was actually up to speed… though given McDuck's flair for control, for all they knew he was already on top of it. Either way, Launchpad and Mia would be at his side within minutes to ensure they were on the same page. It was evidently up to Darkwing to make sure his nephews were there too.

"Right now…" he said slowly. "I say they can argue all they want as long as they where we know they're safe. I'm going to get them to come back!"

"I'll come with you. You know… just in case they don't listen to you."

Darkwing didn't bother to argue. They rushed to follow the boys, but hadn't gotten but a few feet before Launchpad's voice came over the comms. "DW, more bad news!"

"More bad news? Oy…"

"Mia says SHUSH just got it over the police radio: someone broke into McDuck Manor, and they're not being quiet about it!"

"Just as we thought, unfortunately. Lucky Crimson and Techno are on the way. They can handle themselves, I'm sure of it."

"Gee, DW. You trust 'em to handle supervillains but not to handle a relationsh-"

"It's not that I don't… it's just…" He stopped, noticing the smirk on Launchpad's face. Sometimes beneath Launchpad's simple exterior was a duck too playful for his own good, in DW's opinion. "You're doing that on purpose!"

"Sorry, DW. Couldn't resist."

"Could we possibly get alert?" Darkwing groused, putting a bit more "parent" in his tone than usual. "There's something bigger going on here, if you hadn't noticed!"

They finally came to foyer, expecting to find the triplets and bring them back. Instead, they found the room bare.

"The boys aren't here," Fenton said, a bit needlessly. "They must've taken their argument outside!"

The two nodded to each other and made to follow the triplets out. But before they could, a sharp "hey!" from behind made them stop. It was Julia Plumis, looking slightly out of breath as they turned through the door. She ran up to them, eyes narrowing with a reporter's curiosity.

"Why have you two left the presentation?" She asked her, prying eyes narrowed. "McDuck is about to make his big announcement. Finally. What would be big enough for his guest of honor and accountant to dip out now of all times."

Darkwing palmed his temple. He usually fawned over reporters, but even he hated what he called the "dark side of the press" as much as anybody. This wasn't a good time for inconvenient snooping.

"I noticed you two hurry off," she continued, likely spurred on by their irritation. "And my finely honed reporter senses went off. There's a story here, isn't there?"

She stared at the both of them, clearly expecting an answer before she would move on.

Fenton stepped forward, and Darkwing had to give him credit. All they had to do is share a look, and already he was pulling Plumis aside for a non-intrusive talk before she knew what was going on.

"A story? Psh, no. Just Mr. McDuck's nephews arguing again – boys will be boys, and all. Mr. McDuck trusts me to handle situations like this. I'm very close with the family." Plumis stared at him. He grinned sheepishly. "Really, I am!"

"Trouble in paradise?" She accepted that, though she still looked skeptical. "Makes sense. But then, why does Darkwing need to be here? Let alone leading the way?"

Fenton laughed nervously, probably buying a second to think of a good answer. Darkwing himself, meanwhile, had already slinked away towards the boys. The last thing he heard was Fenton making an actually very buyable – and flattering, always a plus – excuse.

"Er… well, he's a role model isn't he?" Fenton was saying - Darkwing grinned just hearing it. "He'll get the boys on the right track."

He had the urge to go back and bask in the compliment, just for a moment. But he had a job to do, so like a good role model he was he darted outside… where everything was much louder. It didn't take long to figure out where the boys were.

"I can't believe you Lou!" Huey was ranting, pacing back and forth a looking not unlike an overflowing volcano with his red overtones. "A year off? A YEAR OFF?! You want to just skive away and laze around for an entire year instead of finishing school? What's wrong with you?!"

"I don't know why it's any of your business, but yes Hue. I do." Louie said, though he looked more determined than he sounded. "It's just… I just don't know what I want to do with my life. So sue me!"

"Sue you? I'll do more than sue you! After every way Uncle Scrooge has helped us figure those things out, you still don't know?"

"It's a little disappointing is all, Lou." Dewey said, trying to be the only semi-reasonable one there. "We know you've got potential, we just don't like seeing you… not use it, I guess."

"So I've got 'potential' now? That's rich. You know who else had potential? Uncle Scrooge. Do you know how hard it is to look at that image and just feel… inadequate by comparison?"

"Uncle Scrooge got to be as great as he is through hard work, Lou! He must've told us that a hundred times by the time we were ten, if you'd just listened. I swear, you've always been lazy-"

"Hard work and direction, Huey. He knew where he was going. And, I just… you two are headed for such great things. Your studies, your internships… and I have no idea if I have a place like that."

"Of course you do. We were always to go into business together, bro. That's not going to change."

"Unless you bail on us, that is," Huey fumed. "What're we supposed to do without you?"

"And I'd do what, exactly?" Louie snapped, raising his voice for the first time. "I'm not as smart or headstrong as you two. I don't have Uncle Scrooge's gumption. I want to be a part of… whatever triplet destiny we've got going here, but I just need to know what my part of it is supposed to be. Can't you understand that?"

Huey and Dewey both began to respond, and since this seemed like a very tense, very important conversation, Darkwing was almost tempted to let it go on. He felt like a heel for even thinking about breaking it up, but time was of the essence. In the face of possible danger by supervillain plot, cutting off an awkward and painful brotherly conversation seemed like a rather minor pitfall – like tearing off a band-aid.

"Boys, I'm sure we can settle this later. But it ''is'' going to have to wait."

Huey glanced up, and immediately scoffed. "Stay out of this, Darkwing. This is between brothers."

"I understand that, but it's not a good time. We need to get you back inside before…"

The ground exploded beneath their feet. Gigantic vines burst from the foundation of the conference hall, throwing Darkwing and the boys back and cutting him off from Fenton.

He landed roughly on the ground, but years of experience allowed him to throw himself back to his feet little worse for the wear. A quick glance at the boys showed him that they were alright for now – they were already picking themselves up as well - but any look at the building made it very clear that it was going to be another story entirely.

A wall of green now covered its outside, restricting every door, every window and every crevice. And as far as Darkwing could tell, there was no longer any way in.

He gulped. "…something… bad… happens…"


Author's Note: It's kind of funny that Mrs. Beakley and Bianca Beakley have the same last name. I hadn't realized that when I decided to put Bianca Beakley in this story, but once I realized that her part in this basically wrote itself. For those who don't quite remember, Bianca Beakley knows Gosalyn personally, because she attempted to use her as a patsy during her first crime spree back when she was a kid. Neither of them have forgotten since.

The new Ducktales came out as I was putting the finishing touches on this particular chapter. Huey, Dewey and Louie's personalities are largely based on their older television personalities, particularly in Quack Pack (with Louie as the "moral" one, Dewey as the "smart" one, and Huey as the hotheaded "leader"), which has a few differences from the way they're portrayed now. I thought about referencing the new Ducktales with Webby growing into something like her Ducktales personality, but I couldn't think of a great way to insert her into the plot. Fenton, on the other hand, was a fun addition. I've always liked the way Fenton is kind of a doofus with an overeager streak, but Gizmoduck shows a part of him that is very different, so I like having him as Fenton involved.

As for our Duck reference of the day: John D. Rockerduck (named for John Rockefeller, of course) is another nemesis of Scrooge's from the comics. He can generally be described as less evil than Glomgold, but still unscrupulous and greedy, so he's great for a rich antagonist who's powerful and problematic, but not a monster.

Next Time: The Five's attack and their employer schemes finally come to their finality, with mass mayhem, precision theft and a personal strike at Scrooge himself that may shake the entire family if Darkwing can't stop it! The Fearsome Five's return, to be concluded in The Great Duckburg Hat Trick - Part 2!