Sea of Green
by Zebeckras
A/N: I didn't have any notes in the last chapter. So here are some now. Mostly just: sorry that it's taking so long for the plot to kick in! Things will get a little more exciting next chapter. I think the third story in the series will be a more "things happen now" kind of plot. :) This one, I guess, is a little more character-driven. Anyway, big thanks to those of you who have left reviews, and I'm going to try to post the next chapter around the end of the month or so - we'll see. Many thanks to all, hope you keep enjoying!
Act II ch 1
It was nearing 10:30, and Gosalyn had finally wandered up the stairs to her bedroom about fifteen minutes ago. This had followed several hours of video games and other distractions, and more than an hour of "Not yet" in response to Beth's reminder of her father's mention of bedtime at 9 pm.
Since Beth had to live up to her promise of "whatever you want" given that Gosalyn had actually finished her homework, she wasn't able to do much more than remind and gently nudge Gosalyn in the direction of bed; under the circumstances, she was actually rather surprised that the girl had finally consented. She'd clearly been tired, but Beth hadn't expected that to make any difference.
There was no sign upstairs that Gosalyn was still awake; there was no real sign that she was asleep, either. Beth had been told she only needed to stay until 10:30, and at this point she had a feeling that her work was done - no one could force someone to go to sleep - but she waited out a few more minutes just to be sure, and killed the time by examining the decor of the house in a little more detail.
The homework situation had gone as well as could be expected, she supposed. Gosalyn, clearly intelligent, simply had absolutely no interest in applying herself to most of the work. Beth tried to make it interesting, and when that didn't work, she tried mnemonic devices to remember formulas, she tried finding ways to apply the work to everyday situations, she tried everything she could think of; in the end, Gosalyn had a span of about three to four problems in each subject during which she was receptive to input. In some cases Gosalyn started out well and in other cases she took a little while to warm up, but either way, within the first two or three problems she'd be open to instruction. Then she'd hit a wall, get bored, and coast the rest of the way through the assignment.
Beth was frustrated within an hour, and so was Gosalyn, so they both quietly stopped trying and just sped through the remaining work. Then Beth ordered a pizza, sat down, and watched Gosalyn play video games for the next hour. She was disappointed, mostly in herself; she promised herself that next time - if she got a next time - she'd do better. After a while she asked a few questions about the video game, and this turned into a disjointed conversation that involved Gosalyn's current favourite game as well as her high scores in several others that she had beaten.
Watching the girl sit on the couch and stare at the television while rapidly pressing a bunch of buttons wasn't hard at all, and Beth had figured she was getting off easily based on what Launchpad had been telling her, but it turned out that Gosalyn wasn't finished. The next two hours had involved skateboards, hockey sticks, and of all things, the fire extinguisher (Beth had been distracted cleaning up the spill from a vase and the next thing she'd known - well, at least she hadn't had to call the fire department). Then it was back to the video game.
In all it had been an eventful four hours. "Eventful" was not one of Beth's favourite ways to describe such things and so she was actually surprised to find, as she reflected back on the evening, that she had not hated every minute of it. Gosalyn was charming, actually. Destructive and uncontrollable, but also charming and smart, and quite funny in her lively way. She wasn't out to cause trouble, precisely; she just got these ideas, and wanted to see them out.
From a scientific perspective Beth wholly appreciated the curiosity behind this mindset. She just wished that these ideas were the kind that could be carried out in a lab with preparations already lined up in case of accidents, and not the kind that risked burning down a house.
She was exhausted. Drake and Launchpad would probably be back soon, and although they'd said she didn't need to stay until they returned, she thought that waiting and having a quick chat after her first night babysitting was probably a good idea. On the other hand, if they didn't get home soon, she was going to pass out on the couch. As she cocked her head in front of a painted landscape, she realized she wasn't really looking at it; in fact, she'd been standing in front of it for the past few minutes without taking it in.
"Boy. Wake up," she said to herself, shaking her head. She moved across the room, passing the twin chairs and the Basil of Baker Street statuette, and that reminded her yet again not to touch anything. With her luck it would break, and it would be an heirloom, and Drake would hate her.
Hands firmly in her pockets, she returned to a picture she'd examined several times already that evening - a family portrait with Drake, Gosalyn, and Launchpad sitting or standing together in a nondescript room. Beth smiled slightly, drinking in the sight of Drake in a way that she couldn't do while she was around him for fear that she'd be caught staring. She tried to memorize the shape of his face, the slope of his bill, and the set of his eyes. How was it that every time she saw him - even a picture of him - he was more attractive than he'd been before?
There was still no sound of movement coming from upstairs, and Beth checked the time. Just past 10:30. She frowned, hating to leave now and maybe just miss Drake returning, but ... she was beginning to ache, both in her head, and just with fatigue. She had been given permission to go - in fact Drake had seemed heavily insistent on it and had used the word "promise" - so she shook her head and gave up for the evening.
She took her handbag and then stood at the bottom of the stairs, straining to hear any sign that Gosalyn was still awake, and going back and forth on the idea of calling up to her to let her charge know that she was leaving. It might wake her up - but it could be so jarring for a child to wake up and find that she was in an empty house...
Finally she decided on the way of passivity, which was always the easiest. Gosalyn was tough, anyway, and she knew what time Beth was supposed to leave. She'd be fine.
Beth put her hand on the doorknob and hesitated one last time. Then she looked around, taking in the look of house - warm and friendly and so suburban - and hoped she'd be back again. Soon.
She opened the door and left without allowing herself any further delays.
"Come on already," muttered Darkwing under his breath, gripping his binoculars and focusing in tightly on the subject he was observing. "Either make a move, or leave."
The lingering was what was killing him. This was taking way too long. He was sure she was going to try something - positive - why else was she staying so late? He glared at Beth, who was just barely visible through the window of his house from his perspective down the street. She was just standing there staring at a wall, from the look of things. Maybe she'd planted an explosive.
As he watched, she shook her head and then moved out of his line of vision. He waited a moment to see if she'd appear in the next window, but she'd apparently stopped between the two so he had to readjust himself on the rooftop he'd perched on, then find her again in his binoculars. When he did, she was staring again. He lowered the binoculars, his brow furrowing in confusion. What the heck was she up to?
He checked his watch: it was 10:33. He'd told her to leave by 10:30. On the one hand, if she'd already been gone by the time he'd decided to start watching her (about 45 minutes ago, now), he'd have known she was guilty of something. On the other hand, the fact that she was staying so late just screamed "suspicious behaviour". If she'd done something with Gosalyn...
The cold hand of parental anguish closed around his heart, and he gripped the binoculars and raised them again as if searching for a sign of foul play. And he'd been stupid enough to leave her alone with his only daughter all night! And Launchpad had been stupid enough to let him! But no, the fault was all his. Anything that happened to Gosalyn was completely due to his own lack of vigilance.
So far, the woman wasn't showing any sign of anything - certainly not brain activity. When he refocused the lenses on her he realized that the point of her fixation on the wall was one of the framed pictures he had up. He had no idea what was so fascinating about it, but he had an idea it wasn't good. Maybe she was casing the room.
When she moved again, he wasn't prepared, so he lost her in the binoculars yet again. He'd switched places on the roof three times already and still couldn't find her in the windows before he realized that she was walking down the sidewalk away from him, already growing distance.
She's leaving? He couldn't tell if that was good or bad. His first instinct was to follow her, but his immediate counter-instinct as a parent was to go check on Gosalyn. He hoped he didn't regret wasting time, but since Beth didn't seem to be carrying a struggling, bound ten-year-old, he could only assume that Gosalyn was still inside the house... one way or another. Well, he'd seen her bouncing around before she'd gone to bed, so he knew she hadn't left...
He radioed Launchpad to tell him to be ready in case they needed to catch up with Beth quickly - Launchpad responded affirmatively, although Darkwing noticed it was without much enthusiasm - and then he made his way along the rooftops before reaching his own house, sliding down the side, and entering quietly through the back door.
Everything was in place; that would be good for most people, but for someone who had babysat Gosalyn it was incredibly suspicious. He rounded a few corners carefully, his gas gun at the ready (ignoring the fact that he'd seen her leave five minutes earlier), and then darted upstairs.
When he opened the door to Gosalyn's room, he found it dark and quiet. He let the door swing open slightly wider, and a shaft of light fell onto the bed, illuminating her face. She was asleep. He let out a sigh of relief, and watched her breathing steadily for a few minutes before he let himself relax.
Apparently, he finally was willing to admit to himself, he'd overreacted. Evidently Beth had just managed to pull off a minor miracle and get Gosalyn to bed before midnight, and then she'd left, as instructed.
He didn't blame Launchpad for his tone earlier; he had been taking things much too seriously, and blowing little signs all out of proportion. Everything was okay now, though.
Darkwing entered the room and brushed Gosalyn's forehead lightly, then bent and gave her a quick kiss. She opened her eyes and said sourly, "Y'know, if you're gonna give me a ridiculously early bedtime, the least you could do is let me sleep once I've turned off the lights."
"I thought you'd hold out until at least 11," he said, straightening up with a fond smile.
Gosalyn sat up, rubbing her eyes slightly. "Got too bored to stay awake."
Darkwing said smugly, "Oh, no kidding? She wasn't a nonstop source of thrills and entertainment?" Gosalyn just glared at him. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay, sweetie. You can go back to bed."
"'Kay." Clearly still tired, she actually reached up towards him for a hug, an unselfconscious act that was becoming more and more rare as she got older. As he bent down to embrace her, she said sleepily, "So, experiment over? Do I get to stay by myself tomorrow night?"
He waited until the hug had reached its conclusion before answering, knowing that his reply wouldn't go over well. "Sorry, Gos. I didn't say one-night-only for a babysitter, I said-"
"Dad!" She scrambled to her feet and actually stood on the bed to try to stare him down. "That's not FAIR! I even did my homework and the house is intact and everything!"
"-I said a few weeks," he finished evenly, crossing his arms in a calm counterpoint to her outburst. "You keep doing your homework, and... not blowing up the house... and we'll see."
"SO not fair!" she grumbled, flopping back down onto the bed.
"Nobody said growing up was fair, kiddo."
Gosalyn's reply was a grunt. He chuckled and tousled her hair, which just seemed to irritate her even more; as he was on his way out of the room, she said, "If I have to have a babysitter, I want her to come back."
"Who? Beth?" He was stunned that she'd hold onto this for so long.
"Yeah."
"Is this just to get at me? Tell the truth."
Bluntly, she answered, "Yes." Darkwing sighed; it came out sounding somewhat like a growl. She added, "Besides, I know how to handle people like her. We had fun tonight."
"You call doing your homework 'fun'? Hey, for that matter..." He came back into the room, and peered at her closely in the dark. "How did she manage to get you to do homework? Did she do it for you?"
Gosalyn rolled her eyes, and in a grand gesture said, "NO! Boy, you really always think the worst of me, huh?"
"Not the absolute worst."
"Boy. My own father," said Gosalyn sourly. "I'm going back to bed."
"Fine." Darkwing got ready to head back to the Tower; it was high time he did some actual patrolling tonight. "We can discuss this in the morning."
"Gonna be the same answer, Dad," she said into her pillow.
He left, shaking his head.
There was something she was forgetting.
She'd be feeling just fine right about now if only she could shake that feeling... that utter certainty that she had forgotten something. The urge to turn around and go back to the Mallards' house was, in fact, becoming overwhelming. In fact, she was on the verge of doing just that when she suddenly remembered what she had forgotten.
Unfortunately, it had nothing at all to do with the Mallards.
"Oh gosh," she said aloud, stopping dead in her tracks. "The inventory. Oh geez."
It was close to 11 pm and she had yet to start the backroom inventory. Not only that but the store was at least a 20 minute walk from her house, which was still a good ten minutes away.
For just one moment, Beth felt overwhelmed - so much so that she was frozen. For a moment she thought she might just start crying; a moment after that she felt unexpectedly like she was about to get incredibly angry, disproportionately to her situation. Then it passed, and it was just an annoyance; another late night, but she could make up the sleep later.
Her head still hurt, but at least she'd have the store to herself. She could listen to music (although she knew she wouldn't), or talk to herself (which she probably would), or order a midnight snack (which she almost certainly would not); anything she wanted, it was up to her. She'd find a way to enjoy herself.
She kept telling herself that as she changed her direction ever so slightly, and added the extra mile or so to her destination.
When she got there, she took five minutes to water the plants - something she did every evening when she closed, and which Henny had almost certainly not done. Then she headed to the back room and started the counting, which was not so bad as it seemed.
Late that night - or very early the next morning - three things happened at almost precisely the same time, though they were of varying significance.
At 2:14 am, Beth finished counting the boxes of nails, and checked her inventory list. Finding that she was approximately 2/3 of the way through the stock, she decided to allow herself a five-minute rest, and lay her head down on the desk with the intention of getting a second wind and finishing up in the next hour. She slept until morning.
At 2:16 am, Darkwing finally called it a night after scanning the city and taking in a couple of minor burglars. He and Launchpad arrived home a few minutes later.
At 2:17 am, the plants of St. Canard started as if by mutual decision to grow - very high, very quickly. It was an act which went unnoticed by nearly everyone at the time, but which would have strong repercussions in a very short while.