Chapter 10

Darkwing spent most of the night out on the Ratcatcher, roaming the streets without any particular purpose. He had stopped a few muggings but, after his attempt to hand the thugs over to the police went sour, he kept to himself. He wasn't about to stick around the police station to answer their questions about the two robberies...

He released some of his pent-up energy by taking down several would-be thieves and leaving them trussed up like turkeys in front of the jewelry store, setting off the alarm himself so the police would find them. He stayed away from home until dawn before finally creeping back into the tower and crashing on the bed, exhausted.

Unfortunately his dreams offered no reprieve from the guilt and worries he was burdened with. He woke with a start and went down to the kitchenette, hoping some food and coffee would calm his nerves but the coffee just made him more restless. He paced back and forth in the small space as he tried to figure a way out of this mess. There had to be a way to catch Sharp before he could set off the explosions he'd threatened Darkwing with.

He was still pacing when Gosalyn arrived at the tower, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Seeing her dad up, she plopped at the kitchen table to wait for him to notice her. After several seconds of inactivity, she broke the silence by clearing her throat.

Once she had Darkwing's full attention, she asked about resuming her training exercises. She was just getting geared up to launch into a long-winded speech on how she was going to excel when Darkwing patted her on the head absently and walked away from her.

"Hey! What about my training?" she exclaimed.

"What training?" he asked distractedly as he read the newspaper and continued pacing the tower.

She jumped in front of him and pulled the paper out of his hands. "The training you promised me on my birthday! Don't tell me you're backing out of the promise...!"

"No, no!" Darkwing held up his hands in protest. "I'm not backing out of anything. I'm just putting that on temporary hiatus until some other... things are resolved..."

Instantly perking up at the thought of a case, Gosalyn eagerly perused the paper. She frowned disappointedly. "But there's nothing in this other than more coverage of that same old bank robbery. Guess they should have asked Darkwing Duck to test their security system for them, huh, Dad?" She asked with a smug grin.

"Hmm? Oh! Right..." he frowned and went to his lab table.

Gosalyn tagged along.
"Say, why don't we check out the bank ourselves? With two crime fighters on the case, we can bust the burglar who broke into the bank in no time!"

"Sure, Sweetie, whatever you say..." Darkwing replied half-heartedly as he flipped through his book of gas recipes and set out some of the supplies.

Gosalyn scowled and punched him in the stomach. Darkwing doubled over in pain and gawked at his daughter. What in the...?

"You weren't paying any attention to anything I said!" she exclaimed accusingly.

"Of course —wheeze— I was listening! —Cough—" he slowly straightened and scowled. "Are you purposefully trying to get yourself grounded? Because that is the last thing you want to do to someone you were begging for training moments ago!"

"I wasn't begging, for your information, that was just asking eagerly. And all that proves is that you listened to one sentence that I said! Now what is going on and why aren't you letting anyone help you!"

Darkwing blinked at her. "Where on earth did that statement come from?"

"Quit avoiding the issue and talk to me! I'm your daughter! I'm supposed to know when something's bothering you. And Launchpad didn't become your sidekick just for the meal ticket. It's been almost three days since you've let either of us go out on patrol with you..."

"Oh, three days. How tragic." Darkwing rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Did it occur to you, perchance, that crime is at an all time low?"

"So what's the harm in letting me come along then?" Gosalyn persisted. "If there isn't any real danger, I can practice in real life settings—"

"And," he continued, spinning around to wave a finger in her face. "Did it occur to you that I might perhaps be protecting you from something? Like a father is SUPPOSED to protect his daughter?"

"Oh, you mean like the time you 'protected' me from Negaduck by throwing me in a dinosaur skull? Or the time you grounded me to 'protect' me from Taurus Bulba? Gee, that worked real well, didn't it?" Gosalyn growled sarcastically.

"So I make a mistake once in a while, so sue me! Now, for your own good, I'm asking you to drop the issue, Gos." Darkwing straightened and crossed his arms.

Gosalyn bristled. "Why can't I judge for myself? I can fight crime just as well as you can! I hit everything I aim for!"

"You couldn't handle self-control for five minutes!"

"Oh yeah, this from a total self-control expert..." Gosalyn rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"For your information, I have excellent self-control! Now go do your homework before I have to implement self-control!"

"'Homework'? I'll have you know it's still June! I still have two whole months of summer left!"

"Which you will be spending in your room for the entire length of if you don't get out of my sight this minute!" Darkwing snapped, pointing at the chairs.

Gosalyn started to retort but bit back her tongue as the effect of his harsh words sank in. She shrank back uneasily before tears formed and anger took over. "Fine! Ground me for caring about you! See if I care."

She ran to the chairs and left.

Darkwing panted for a moment, frozen in his last position with his finger pointing at empty air. After he got himself back together, he slowly realized what he just done. Slowly sinking to the floor, he rested his elbows on his knees, clutching his beak miserably.
"I'm sorry, Gos..." he whispered to the now-silent superstructure.

Darkwing was still moping an hour later when Launchpad came by the tower to check on him.

"Hey, DW!" Launchpad greeted his pal cheerfully.

Darkwing spun around. "Huh! Oh! Heh heh. Launchpad. How nice to see you..."

"Well, nice to be seen, I guess." Launchpad shrugged. "Whatcha been doing, Bossman?"

Darkwing gulped. "Um...just some thinking..." He answered through his teeth.

"Hey, me too! What a coincidence!" Launchpad replied brightly.

Darkwing palmed his face irritably.

"So, I've been meaning to ask ya..." Launchpad began.

"Yes...?" Darkwing asked nervously.

"When's the last time we've been bowling?"

Relieved that the conversation wasn't heading toward a touchy subject, Darkwing mopped his brow and considered the question. "Well, I guess it was back in March or so..."

Launchpad nodded. "I knew it had been a while. So, I was thinking maybe we could go bowling this afternoon or this evening some time. If you're not too busy with, uh, patrolling and crime fighting and such, of course..." he added with a nervous chuckle. He didn't want to get yelled at.

Darkwing thought the proposition over. It would be nice to get out and do something normal for a change. Something stress-free and non-crime related. But then again, he'd be leaving Gosalyn at home with nobody to watch her. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her with that monster Sharp lurking around...
"Um...I think I'll pass."

Launchpad slouched in disappointment. Darkwing sighed, then brightened as another thought occurred to him.
"But you know... Taking a break isn't such a bad idea."

Launchpad straightened. "You mean you'll come?"

"Not right now, Pal. But I was thinking..." Darkwing put a hand on the pilot's shoulder. A plan was starting to formulate. "You've been working sooo hard. Why don't you take a vacation?"

Launchpad looked confused. "But I just got b—!"

Darkwing interrupted with a wave of his hand. "That was just a weekend at home. When was the last time you took a real vacation? One where you got out and did whatever you want, whenever you want, for as long as you want, with no attachments!"

"Uh, gee, I guess it was—"

"Too long ago." Darkwing started to push him toward the spinning chairs. "Now you just go pack your bags and—"

"What about you and Gos? It's not a vacation without you guys there..." Launchpad protested.

Darkwing froze. Thinking quickly, he added. "You're absolutely right! Say! Why don't you take Gos to visit those nephews of McDuck again? Then you two can hang out at the hangar with your family and enjoy the sights and—

"But DW—" Launchpad protested as Darkwing resumed shoving him.

"Gos could even go see the Junior Woodchucks at work. Say! That's it! You can go camping! I'll get the gear."

Launchpad stepped aside, leaving Darkwing leaning on empty air. He waved his arms in an attempt to catch his balance but ended up falling on his face.

"Hey, I know what's going on..." Launchpad said suspiciously as he turned around to face Darkwing. After looking around to see where he had gone, Launchpad helped the crime fighter to his feet. "You're trying to get rid of me!"

Darkwing gulped nervously, unable to think of a response.

Launchpad stared at him sternly for a moment before breaking into a grin. "If ya wanted to throw a surprise party, you could have just asked."

"Uh, yeah. A surprise party. That's what it is..." Darkwing fumbled again, rubbing the back of his neck.

Launchpad slapped him on the shoulder. "What a pal!" He started to walk away but paused as he considered something else. "Ya know...I appreciate the gesture, Buddy, but I really don't need a party..."

"You...you don't?" Darkwing gasped, still recovering from that shoulder slap.

"Nah. I'll settle for a coconut burger barbecue at the Muddlefoots any day. Or Pepe's Pizza. I heard they're having a "Sizzling Special" this week. I've been meaning to try that new 'Super-Scorcher' they've been advertising..."

As Launchpad started fantasizing about pepperoni and sausage pizza topped with slivers of jalapeno, habanero, cubanelle, poblano, tabasco, cayenne, and other varieties of peppers and spices, Darkwing's mouth started smoking.

Launchpad was just getting to the part about this new super hot Trinidad Scorpion Butch T pepper when he heard a faucet running. He turned around. "Er, DW...?" Darkwing had already fled the room. "Gee, I didn't even get to the chili fries..."

Later, Drake went home, finding Launchpad at the kitchen table.

Launchpad plopped the paper on the table in front of him. "DW, I think we need to talk."

"If this is about my suggestion, forget it!" Drake replied crossly. He wasn't in the mood for a lengthy discussion.

"Well, it kinda is, but it's more serious than that. Gos is really concerned about ya."

"I know! But right now, I..."

The doorbell interrupted him. Drake silently sent a 'thank you' to whoever had arranged the distraction as he pushed away from the table. His hand was on the knob when the most irritating noise in the world grated on his senses.

"Oh yoo hoo! Mr. Mallard!" Binkie called in a singsong voice.

Drake simmered. "Oh perfect..." He peeked back in the kitchen. "Launchpad, get the door. Tell her I'm not home." With that parting remark, he ducked into the broom closet.

"Uh, okay..." Launchpad obligingly greeted Binkie. "Hi, Binkie. Drake's not home at the moment. Didja need something?"

"Oh, just a teaspoon of cinnamon, if you don't mind." She replied cheerfully.

***
Drake, who could hear everything, face palmed himself. "You couldn't just run to the store to pick up some?" he thought sourly at his neighbor.

Thankfully Binkie couldn't hear him. She was explaining why she had run out of cinnamon.
"I used up the rest of ours baking a cake for our new neighbor, Perseus Shear."

"'Perseus'? Who'd name their kid 'Perseus'? Ha!" Drake thought.

"He's a nice man. A bit grumpy, but Mr. Shear had just gotten back from work, so I suppose a little temper tantrum is excusable. He had one of those new wide screen TVs..."
Binkie rattled on about the visit as she followed Launchpad into the kitchen.
"And he has such an unusual name. Why, I don't think I've ever met a 'Perseus' before. I have met a 'Percy' and 'Phineas', but 'Perseus' sounds so interesting. I wonder what he shortens it to..."

"I dunno. It's all Greek to me," Launchpad shrugged, completely unaware of the pun he'd just made. "Here ya go! Cinnamon on the house, hehe."

"Why thank you, but I only need a teaspoon, see?" she held up the measuring spoon in her hand.

"Oh," Launchpad smiled. "Well you might need some more later. You never know. Just go ahead and take the whole bag. Drake, uh, doesn't normally let me near the oven and he rarely bakes. So you would put it to better use than we would."

"Oh, you're such a dear. Thank you." Binkie happily accepted the cinnamon. "I'll bring over some snicker doodles later when I'm done with my rolls. Have a nice day!"

"Bye!" Launchpad waved and closed the door, rubbing his tummy in anticipation. "Oh boy! Snicker doodles! Now I'm hungry all over again! Hehehe."

Drake groaned and ran his hand down his face.

Launchpad turned serious again as he opened the door for Drake. "Look, Drake, the fact is you haven't been the same since you visited the cemetery with Gosalyn. First you started avoiding everyone, then you essentially stopped crime fighting and training Gosalyn. Next you told me to take Gos to Duckburg and leave you alone here! If that isn't a call for help, I don't know what is. What's wrong, Buddy?"

"What's wrong! I'll tell you what's wrong! I've been—" Drake was cut off by his cell phone vibrating. He grimaced. "Sorry, LP. I need to take this call." Ducking into the living room, he cupped his hand around his beak and hissed into the receiver. "What?"

"Get yourself together, Duck. You're practically broadcasting to the world that you're under duress." Sharp simmered.

"Well what do you expect! I AM under duress! You've got me wrapped up tighter than a spool of dental floss! No more warnings! I can't take any more!"

"Fine. But remember: tread carefully." —Click—

Drake clenched his fists and counted to twenty, forcing himself to relax.

Launchpad peeked into the room. "You okay, DW?"

"Yes." Drake sighed. "Everything is fine."

The pilot didn't buy that for a second but he shrugged it off. "Well...if ya need to talk, you know where to find me." He headed up to his room.

Drake sank onto the couch. After a moment of fidgeting, he picked up a magazine and reached over to switch on a light. He was about to settle back but something had seemed different about that lamp. He looked again and found a listening device. He yanked it off the shade and snarled into it.
"I didn't tell him anything! You got that, Sharp? You leave my friends out of this! And if you harm so much as a feather on any of them, I will Hunt You Down! You hear me?"

Letting his fury and nerves take over, he bashed the listening device with a hardcover book. Then he rushed off to grab a hammer, pounding the bug to pieces. Still not satisfied, he put all the pieces in a bag and jumped up and down on them.

Across the street, Sharp shook his head. "Some people have no dignity," he sighed, settling back on his pillows to watch TV.

"Phineas?" Horatio called from the study, removing his headphones. "That device you ordered is ready."

"Excellent," Sharp grinned wickedly.

"There's just one problem. Dr. Harper won't hand it over until he gets the other seven grand you owe him..."

"I expected as much..." Sharp tapped his fingers together thoughtfully. "Call Dr. Harper back. Tell him he will receive the rest of his payment, and a bonus as a 'thank you' for finishing ahead of schedule, at ten o'clock tomorrow morning..."

"Yes, Phineas." Horatio started to speak into his headphones again when he realized what his boss had said and peeked into the den. "I'm sorry... Could you repeat that, Boss?"

Sharp grinned. "You heard me correctly, Horatio. I am not only paying in full for a weapon I have yet to receive, but I am giving the good doctor a raise! Ahhahahaha!"

"A-are you sure, Phineas? I-I mean the last time you paid someone more than was bargained, you... Oh...!" he put a hand to his beak as he understood the implications. "Right. I'll get on it."