Eventually I just sort of nodded off to a laundry soap commercial. He kept the TV on all night, in a quiet drone. I was on the couch by now, and I thought I'd been talking to N, but things just went soft and blurry. I woke up a couple of times, forgetting where I was, and then I'd remember. I never actually saw him when I was awake, but I knew he was around. He never went into his bedroom, and the last time I heard him before I fell into a deeper sleep, I caught the sound of metallic scraping. He was always doing something with his endless stash of weapons. Did the bastard ever sleep? I was thinking about this when I rolled over on the creaky couch and darkness came on me again. I had strange dreams, and one really bad one that involved a lot of blood. I could feel N somewhere in the dream, but he didn't show up. On the edge of waking, I felt something in my hair. It sort of pulled, but it felt nice.
I finally woke up all the way when I smelled the coffee. I sat up, shoving off a ratty blanket that I hadn't noticed before. I hid a smile behind a yawn. He was over at the table. In a bathrobe. Without his mask. He already had a cup of coffee, and was thumbing through the newspaper. He didn't even look tired, and was actually chuckling wickedly at something in the paper. No doubt the obits. Or the police blotter. I shuffled over to the coffee pot.
"Eh, 'bout time you woke up. You got a snore that could wake Elvis, you know that?" He sneered.
"Huh. Must be why I can't keep a boyfriend around." I shrugged, pouring the piping hot black liquid into a mug. He hissed through his teeth in what I could only guess was a laugh.
"Tch. I'm sure that's not the only reason."
"You got any decent food around here?" I started to go through the cupboards, looking over my shoulder to see how he'd react. He just flipped a page of the newspaper.
"Decent? Hey, this isn't a five star hotel, kid." He pressed his cigarette to an image on the page, watching in amusement as it burned a hole through someone's face. I looked in the fridge.
"Jeez. You don't even have any milk."
"I'm watching my waistline…" He smirked.
"I don't think you need to worry about that, N. You're skin and bones."
"Hey, I'm sheer muscle!" He glanced over at me. "'Sides, there's orange juice in there." I bent over and picked up the carton, sniffing it first. The expiration date was still okay at least. I found a somewhat clean glass and poured. The liquid turned into giant chunks of orange that thumped wetly into the glass.
"Don't bitch about the pulp," He snorted. "I like it."
"Yeah? You like to chew your drink?" I cocked my eyebrow at him, but he just grunted and snapped his sharp teeth at me. I looked in the freezer, and found a familiar yellow box. I held it up.
"Eggos?"
"Hell yeah. Just like Nana used to make. Heh. Blueberry too." He was scribbling notes on the edge of the paper. Next to his henscratch was a half-finished crossword puzzle. The sudoku was already done. I rolled my eyes.
"You read the funnies too, old man?" I grinned mischievously.
"Eh. Hagar the Horrible's the only funny one anymore. That and Garfield. That cat's a real dick." His eyes gleamed red beneath his heavy brows. "I like him." I sat down across from him, waiting for my Eggos to pop up.
"God, those eyebrows…" I teased.
"What? What about them?" He reached up and preened himself.
"It's just...no wonder mine are so thick."
"Heh, heh. It's what every young woman wants right? A nice set of...thick eyebrows." He cackled.
"Aw, shaddup." I glanced at the crossword. "I think 7 Down is 'crowbar' by the way."
"Eh?" He scratched his messy head feathers. "Now how the hell did I miss that one?" My waffles popped up, and I went to get them. There was no butter (big surprise) so I just slapped them on a paper towel and carried them over to the table.
"So… Does Darkwing have those eyebrows, too?" I said, casually biting into the hot Eggo. His head snapped up at the mention of his nemesis's name.
"Darkwing…?" He narrowed his eyes. The name managed to sound both full of hatred and reverence in his beak. I wasn't sure how that worked, but there it was. He seemed to lose his train of thought for a second, like I'd given him a sucker punch.
"Nah," He said after a moment. "He doesn't." His tone said to leave it at that, but I pressed on.
"How do you know? Have you ever seen him unmasked?" As soon as I asked the question, I knew he was going to deliver a barrage of answers. It was like asking a Star Wars fanboy how much he hated episodes I-III. Most of them couldn't stand them, but they loved to tell you how much they despised them. In every detail.
"How do I know? Girl, I know everything about Darkwing Duck." He bit off his name with relish. Like a dog with its bone.
"We are complete opposites, but the same." The newspaper was totally abandoned, and he was staring at the table like he could burn a hole through it.
"Like a coin?" I asked. He nodded.
"I know his secret identity. It was...heh….Pretty easy to figure out, actually. I mean, we live in the same house for duck's sake." I was quiet, letting him ramble. I wanted to know everything too.
"'Course, his is prettier than mine." He shuddered. "Yeah…" He leaned back in his chair, lighting another cigarette. "All I had to do was disguise myself and stake out his house. 537 Avian Way. Same exact address."
"So, what...you just wanted for him to come out?"
"Yep. I picked the right season, right time of day. Sometime in May in the afternoon. I knew he couldn't stay cooped up in the house with the sun shining, and birds chirping...all that good shit. And he didn't. Came sauntering out the front door. I knew it was him right away. Looks just like me. Minus the eyebrows." He wiggled his for effect. "He was wearing a sweater vest and pink shirt. Goes by the name of Drake Mallard. It's written right on his mailbox." He leaned further back in his chair, chuckling. "But that's not all. That girl...Gosalyn… The little red-head? She was about 14… It's obvious as hell. She hangs out with him on most of his cases. His partner. Right." I subconsciously sat up straighter in my chair, my half-eaten waffle falling out of my hand.
"Those two are a father-daughter team if ever I saw one." He grinned wickedly.
"Yeah?" I tried to sound super casual. "It figures." I said, biting into the rest of my waffle.
"But you've probably already figured that out by now, eh, kid? I know you're smart enough. The Scarlet Shadow… ha. She used to be Quiverwing Quack. Come to think of it, it was obvious she was his daughter back then. She even called him "Dad" a couple of times within earshot. But…" He pushed himself up from the table.
"I have the most obvious tip off of all." He went over to the counter pouring more coffee.
"Hm?" I pressed.
"I used to have a Gosalyn too." He said this very quietly.
"Wait, what?" I stood up. "Like, your daughter?"
"No. Not really. Just some kid I kidnapped. But she looked just like his girl. Only she didn't have that spirit...that fire that she has. Anyway...she served my purposes a long time ago." My stomach dropped. Oh, god. What did he do to her? And was he planning on using me? Then getting rid of… I shifted in my chair, and he heard the noise.
"She's not buried in the backyard or anything." He narrowed his eyes at me. "She just...ran away. With those traitorous bastards."
"Who?" I hated asking, but I didn't want to be left in the dark.
"The Fearsome Four. Only they're not so fearsome here. They call themselves 'friendly'. It's sick, really. To see them that way. Anyway, they adopted her, I guess. Like Darkwing did with…" He trailed off.
"Gosalyn." I whispered. I remembered her at my record store, her body protectively over mine.
"Yeah." He turned around, suddenly eyeing me in a suspicious way. "How well do you know those two, anyway?" Here we go...I thought. I'd been waiting for this. Using me for a spy would be all too easy. What he didn't know was that I wasn't completely loyal to him, and never would be. Sure he was my dad, but I wasn't stupid. I really liked Darkwing and Scarlet. I'd been following their careers for my entire childhood. No way would I betray them.
"Not that well. Only by what I've read or seen on the news. And when we first met at the record store." I didn't tell him that I had her phone number.
"Hmm…" He put his hand to his chin, then sat down.
"You should get to know them better, I think." His tone was so obviously full of a scheme that I almost laughed. Really, N?
"I know what you're thinking." I said, without fear.
"Oh, do you?"
"Yeah, Negaduck. I do." Using his real name made him look at me closely.
"And the answer is 'no'. I'm not a spy. Or a tool. I refuse to be used. By anyone." Our dark red eyes met, battling for a full minute. Then closed his, sighed, leaned back in his chair again, and laughed.
"You've got guts, girl. Nobody turns down an offer from Lord Negaduck around here."
"Well," I stood up. "I'm not 'nobody'." He laughed again. Good to know he was amused by me. He sat up straight, watching me as I put my glass in the sink.
"It was worth a try, anyway. I figured you were too smart to be used. If you'd agreed, I'd be disappointed. You are my own blood, after all." He pressed his cigarette butt to the table, adding to the countless black marks.
"So, what? You're not using me? What a shocker."
"Nah. I don't need a spy, anyway. I find out all my info on my own. Can't trust just any old sap, ya know. But…" He stood up, making his way to the fridge. His shoulder brushed mine. Taking out the carton of orange juice, he finished it in one huge gulp.
"I do need somewhere to hide that info." I remembered the tiny disk that he'd given me before. It was still in my garage, tucked away in one of my many toolboxes.
"Yeah? And what do I get out of it?" I stared him down. He crushed the empty carton and threw it over my shoulder, where it landed in the garbage can. I admit that I flinched a tiny bit.
"Tell you what, Nell. You hide my intel in Primeverse...and I'll…" He smiled at me with those crocodile teeth.
"I'll teach you how to fight." Not even waiting for an answer, he belched, wiping his beak with the sleeve of his bathrobe and walked into the living room. Flopping down on the couch, he turned up the volume on the TV, where a news reporter was talking about a recent fire in the city.
"Heh, heh. Dumb bastards." He clicked his teeth at the screen. "Can't even keep the flames hot long enough… Everyone knows nitro lasts longer than kerosene. Fuckin' amaturs."
I moved over to the coffee table, clearing a space and sitting on it.
"Hey. I already know how to fight, N."
"Tch. Whatever, kid. You just know the basics. Only made it to orange belt before you got thrown out, right?"
"What the…?" I stood up, enraged. "How the hell do you know…?" He kept his eyes on the screen, hand scratching away at a notepad that just came out of nowhere. His other hand was secured around a box of cartridges. He seemed to be counting them. Jeez, does this guy ever stop? He's an obsessed workaholic. Just like Darkwing.
"Easy, Nell. I already told you before...I know my intel. Speaking of which... there's more in my room. Red dresser, bottom drawer. And don't go poking around in there, got it?" I blinked. What the hell? If he was keeping this stuff hidden, why would he tell me where it was? Why didn't he keep it in a safe? And WHY did he trust me with going into his bedroom? The whole thing stunk of dead rat.
"Oh, and… Let the dogs in, and feed 'em, will ya?"
The dogs… N's trained dobermans. I'd forgotten all about them. They must have been in the yard all night. I didn't even know where the dog food was. Let alone, why he wanted them inside. Wasn't there 5 of them? God, he was so weird. Clearly, he was showing me that he trusted me. Which made it even more weird. Negaduck didn't trust anyone. I shrugged and padded up the stairs to his bedroom. The door was a crack open. Swallowing, I pushed it open. This really felt like some kind of trap. The room smelled like gun oil, matches and cigarettes. There also was an underlying smell of stale sheets, and intimacy. Which made me gag a bit, wondering if he still saw my mother every once in awhile. His bedding was black and red, and I tried not to look too closely at it. One of the top sheets was literally tied in a knot. I'm just gonna pretend he did that when he was having a nightmare. I shook my head, and made my way to the red dresser. It was tall and narrow, with about ten drawers. I carefully slid the bottom one open. There were layers of folded fabric on top. My guess was pillowcases. Underneath those were...dirty magazines. Seriously, old man? I wanted to scream at him, but I kept my cool. I got the feeling that underneath...yep. A false bottom. I pressed the secret hinge with the tip of my finger and the wood of the drawer lifted away, revealing another bottom. It was painted black, and there were four tiny jewel cases inside. I pocketed them in my coverall shirt, then replaced everything. So, he was testing my trust and intelligence. I knew this was the way it was going to be between him and I. Endless tests. And I knew he was a hard grader.
After I left the room, I went back down the stairs. There must be a back door to let the dogs in. Also, would they attack me? I knew they were highly trained, but still…
"You got the disks?" He growled from the living room.
"Yeah."
"How many?"
"Uh...there were four."
"Good. Back door's in the basement. Food's by the washer. Just yell out "kibble" at 'em. They won't attack unless I tell 'em to."
"Heh. And what's your word for that, 'mutilate'?"
"Something like that… There's a fridge down there too if you want a cold one." Yeah, N. Because I loved a good beer at 9 am. Of course, he probably did. Classy.
Down in the basement, I made the wise choice of pouring the dog food into the bowls before opening the door. I felt like a damned commercial for Purina when I yelled out 'kibble'. I was surprised he didn't want me to bang on a triangle while I was at it. I swear I heard him laughing at me from upstairs. The dobermans almost knocked me on my ass, and they laid into the food like that hadn't eaten in a week. I cleared out of there, vaulting back up the steps. When I got back to the living room, N was gone. The TV was in the middle of the movie "Scarface". I heard the revving of a chainsaw and my stomach tensed for a second before I realized it was on the screen.
"Ah, the infamous chainsaw scene. Best part in the whole damn flick." Negaduck stood at the top of the stairs, adjusting his scarlet fedora.
"Look, kid. I've got a bunch of shit to do. So you'd better scram. Even my harlets don't stick around for breakfast." I made a face at him, and he grinned maliciously, pulling his black mask tighter. One of the dobermans came padding up the stairs. It panted, walked a circle around me, then sat down, scratching itself.
"That one's Flesh Render. I just call her Ren for short. Go on, give her a pat. She won't hurt ya." He sneered.
"Yeah, no. I'm good." I backed away. He laughed.
"Coward." He hopped down the last three stairs, landing agilely in front of me.
"So. You hide my stuff, I'll teach you how to handle artillery. The damned army couldn't teach you better, girl. We got a deal?" He stretched out his hand.
"Seriously? Why would I need to learn that?" I narrowed my eyes at him. He blinked, taken aback. Like it never occurred to him that I'd say no.
"What, really? Why wouldn't you?"
"You said you'd teach me how to fight."
"Yeah? And that's what I'm gonna do. You wanna know how to watch out for yourself, doncha?"
"I already know how to do that. I don't need live ammo to defend myself."
"Well, what the hell, kid. Nobody needs live ammo. It's just...so much fun." His pointed teeth gleamed. Is this his way of saying he wants to get to know me? Some kind of twisted way to bond? Who knows? Maybe some of this stuff would come in handy. Pretty sure he just wants to show off what he knows, though. Attention hound that he is. I sighed and took his hand.
"Oh, alright." He squeezed hard enough that it hurt, then let go.
"Alright. You don't have to sound so excited about it. Now, let's get out of here." I arched my brow at him, quizzically.
"I'm taking you back to the portal."
"But I already know…"
"I don't care what you know. You have to make sure no one sees you. You're not coming in or going out of this place without me, you understand? This is my city, and I control who get to come in and out of it. Capiche?" I nodded, looking away from his fierce red eyes.
"When I need you again, I'll come and find you." He growled. I nodded again, a bit hesitantly. GREAT. That sounded like loads of fun. Couldn't wait to see what would happen next.