Twisted Strings of Fate

Chapter 33

What can I say? There's something about having a curse that makes me a drama magnet.

Scrooge glared at the other side of the limo, leaning over his cane. He had been reluctant to get in the vehicle, especially with the blonde female duck patting the seat next to her with mock seduction. Goldie hadn't shed an ounce of her confidence, obviously reveling in Scrooge's discomfort. The other riders looked from one elderly duck to the other, waiting to see who would make their move first.

"So, what's your angle?" Scrooge finally asked.

"What do you mean?" Goldie asked, crossing her legs. Unlike the other encounters Scrooge had had with his feminine rival, she was wearing a sparkling black dress with a slit up one leg.

"Are you 'helping' Torataro find this priceless painting just to steal his entire collection?" Scrooge asked, leaning back.

Goldie scoffed. "Do you think I'm an imbecile? He's Yakuza. I'd have to be mad to think I could get away with stealing from him. I'm here as a legitimate antiques dealer."

Scrooge laughed at that.

"Believe it or not, this is my actual job," Goldie said. "Outsmarting you is just something I do for fun."

Not even his feathers could have hidden the red that was spreading across Scrooge's face, but he couldn't say anything more.

After a few minutes of silence, Mrs. Beakley cleared her throat to catch everyone's attention. "So…where are we going? I'm guessing we're heading to the home of whoever owns this painting."

"Close. The man who owns the painting goes by the name of Terrance Terrin. Every few weeks, he holds a gala or a party or some sort of shindig somewhere in the world where he gives extravagant prizes to one guest," Goldie explained, pulling out a compact from her purse and adjusting her quaffed hair. "For tonight's party, one of the prizes is the painting Torataro wants."

"That's quite the prize," Mrs. Beakley observed.

"He's very rich and likes to flaunt his wealth, unlike some men I know," Goldie joked, winking at Scrooge.

Scrooge crossed his arms, refusing to interact with Goldie.

"So, how does he choose which guest gets the prize?" Mrs. Beakley asked. "Is it random or…"

"He holds a contest of some sort," Goldie said. "I've been to several of his parties, and it always changes. In Hawaii, there was a limbo contest. In Moscow, it was who could last the longest in a tub of icy water. In Tiajuana, it was who could drink the most before passing out. I almost won that one."

"And this time?" Drake asked, getting into the intrigue.

Goldie shrugged. "He keeps it a secret until the last second. He loves the drama and prefers it if nobody can prepare beforehand." Goldie smirked. "I have to admit, I do like his style."

"If he travels all over the world, he must have a public venue that he rents. Where is it?" Mrs. Beakley asked, taking out her phone to prepare her reconnaissance.

"It'll be at the Tokyolk aquarium, privately rented for the event," Goldie said. "Although, we're going to take a little side trip first."

The limo stopped in front of a classy and expensive clothing store. Considering the time of night, there was a closed sign on the door but the lights were on and several women stood on standby.

"This store is owned by Torataro. Since all of you looked like you just rolled out of bed, these fine women are going to make sure you look good for the gala," Goldie said opening the door. She bowed to the women. "Of course, everything is complimentary of Torataro, so you won't have to fork out a dime, Scroogie."

As the others filed out of the vehicle, Drake looked down at his blue shirt. That was the second time someone had insulted his wardrobe today. He didn't think he looked that bad.

"Okay, girls. Take them in and give them the works," Goldie said, clapping her hands.

"Ooo, are we going to get a make-over montage like in the movies?" Launchpad asked excitedly.

"What? No, we don't have time for that," Goldie said. "Be rough with them if you have to girls. We're running late. Don't let that one push you around." She pointed at Scrooge as the smiling Japanese women man-handled—no pun intended—Drake, Launchpad, Fenton and Scrooge with unusual strength.

Mrs. Beakley, with practiced British disapproval and sternness, scared the girls away with only a look before saying, "I think I can manage to pick out my own clothing, thank you very much."

The girls bowed to Mrs. Beakley, knowing a formidable foe when they saw one.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was back in the limousine in different clothing and their head feathers combed and brushed into place. While Mrs. Beakley eased into the vehicle with dignity, wearing a tasteful dark red dress with a shoulder wrap, the boys looked as if they had been through an ordeal. Mrs. Beakley didn't blame their disturbed looks. She had watched as the Japanese girls had torn off their clothes and dressed them in fashionable suits as if they were life-sized dolls.

Drake reached into the collar of his shirt, pulling out a piece of paper with a phone number written on it. Fenton stared ahead, not moving. Launchpad fussed with his hair until it resembled more of what he was used to.

"Off to the ball, my little Cinderellas," Goldie said, gesturing to the driver that they were ready.

Charity was honestly surprised that it was only ten o'clock. It seemed a lot later than that, and maybe that was because of the jetlag, but she was ready to retire for the night. On top of that, she was bruised from her fall and hungry. It had been a while since she ate the ramen that Jim had bought for her. She was glad when Gladstone put them in their limo and told the driver to take them back to the hotel. However, things didn't go according to plan.

"Turn right," Gladstone ordered to the driver, pointing across the street.

There was the sound of tires squealing and horns honking as the limo pitched to the right to make the turn.

"Gladstone, what are you doing?" Della shouted. "I thought we were going back to the hotel."

"Change of plans," Gladstone said. "We need to go in this direction."

"But I'm tired," Della complained. "Can't your luck tell us to go in that direction tomorrow?"

Gladstone ignored her, telling the driver to take a left at the next light. He continued to bark out instructions until the limo rolled up to a beautiful building with LED lights around the windows. There was a group of valets and a red carpet leading up to the door.

"You want us to go in there?" Della asked. "Gladstone, this doesn't look like somewhere we can just walk into. This place looks really, really, really nice."

"I go where the wind takes me," Gladstone said.

When a valet opened their door, Gladstone climbed out before offering his hand for the two women, keeping one on each of his arms.

Charity almost expected there to be cameras as if it were a Hollywood event, but there was nobody around except the valets and a few other people walking down the red carpet.

When they reached the door, a man said something in Japanese then repeated in English. "Do you have your invitation?"

"No," Gladstone said, neglecting the fact that he never had one in the first place.

"What is your name?" the man asked, pulling out a clipboard.

"Er…" Gladstone muttered before taking a step back and shoving Charity in front of him. "This is Charity. You know from the YouTube movies. She's the one who is asking."

Charity's back became rigid as she was placed front and center. She gave a nervous smile as the man at the door eyed her. What was Gladstone doing? Not only did she not want to be known as the girl from the YouTube videos, but her makeup was specifically to hide her identity. Would the man recognize her?

But then the man gave a big smile, nodding. "Can I get a photo?" he asked, all professionalism melting away as he pulled out his phone.

Gladstone took the device for the photo, looking happy as things seemed to be going his way.

"Go right on in," the man at the door said to the trio. "The boss loves you. He'll be glad to know you came."

Gladstone walked in with a skip in his step. "Well, that was lucky."

"I'm beginning to see what you meant about your cousin," Charity muttered to Della.

"Hmph, you two are just jealous," Gladstone said.

As they caught their first glimpse at the interior, Charity gasped, her mouth opening into a large grin. "It's an aquarium," she said with glee.

The red carpet led them to a beautiful, open lobby painted with shades of calming, ocean blues with wisps of whites and grays. Gentle LED lights of cool colors twinkled on the floor, ceiling and walls, giving everything a watery look. Bubbles floated around their heads. Hanging from the high ceiling was a plaster model of a humpback whale with her baby. On the other side of the room were the gaping jaws of a prehistoric shark on a pedestal. Long islands of acrylic fish tanks divided areas of the lobby, each one with a colorful selection of tropical fish, anemones, coral, and water plants. The crowd inside the aquarium wasn't thick but comfortably filled with groups of people talking together. Soft, classical music played in the background.

It was completely different than the noisy, crowded club they had come from, and Charity felt relieved that she wouldn't be forced into another experience like that.

"Oh crap," Della muttered, her cheeks billowing out as she shoved a hand to her beak. She raced to the nearest garbage can as best she could in the kimono before emptying the contents of her stomach.

"Still have that thing about fish, huh?" Gladstone asked drolly.

"We should have gone back to the hotel," Della groaned.

"Are you okay?" Charity asked. She had seen a refreshment table nearby and grabbed a few napkins before kneeling down by Della.

"I'm fine. I just have this things about…ugh…fish," Della moaned, taking the napkins and wiping her beak.

Gladstone looked around. "Well, it doesn't look as if you'll be much help to us here. Do you mind going back to the hotel on your own?" He pulled out his wallet and gave his cousin a handful of yens, most of which he had picked up off the sidewalk earlier that day.

"I can go back with her," Charity said, although her eyes were lingering on the décor. She had never been to an aquarium before. Despite how big Duckburg was, the city didn't have one.

"No, I need you here," Gladstone said. "I think it might have to do with the Orb."

Charity's eyes widened and she looked around as if the object would appear right there and then.

"Come on, cuz. Let's get you out of here," Gladstone said, hanging one of her arms around his shoulders. "Just, please, don't vomit on me."

The two took Della to the sidewalk where Gladstone put her in a cab and gave the driver directions to take her back to the hotel.

Back in the aquarium, Gladstone pointed toward a tunnel that led into more serene lights. "I'm going to head in that direction, see if I can find out what this party is about. It's probably just some sort of charity event. You stay here and look around."

"Wait, you're leaving me? Again?" Charity asked.

"If your orb is here, it's best to split up," Gladstone said, his tone filled with apathy. "My luck got us here, but that doesn't mean we don't have to work for it."

Charity pouted inwardly as Gladstone left. However, her stomach rumbled irritably which reminded her of the refreshment table that was nearby. Taking advantage of being alone, she sought out sustenance, loading a plate with more food than was probably polite in this crowd and a flute of champagne before seeking a spot along the wall where she could eat and drink in peace. From that vantage point, she could see another tunnel leading away from the lobby that went into a large, bowl-like arena that was three-hundred and sixty-five degrees of water. Playful dolphins dove and spun in the water, copying couples who were dancing to a string quartet.

Feeling stronger with something to satisfy her hunger, Charity disposed of her plate and glass before snooping around. She was certain Gladstone didn't intend for her to mingle with the crowd. Not only did the groups seem tight-knit as if they were high school cliques, but she heard more foreign languages than just Japanese being spoken. Instead, she looked at the exhibits in the lobby, thinking that maybe the Orb had been put in one of the tanks. If she was writing a book about looking for treasure in an aquarium, that's where she would put it.

After watching some eels swim in and out of their caves, she turned, wondering if the aquarium had a shark tank, when she stopped in her tracks. Across the room from her was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen

Launchpad, Drake and Fenton were walking toward her, wearing clothing that made them look like models. Fenton, no longer in a stuffy tie, had a wine red button up that was open just enough to show some chest feathers, a black jacket and pants giving him an upscale look. In a dark purple shirt under a black suit and tie, Drake looked every inch of an actor, his strong chin and intense gaze could make any girl swoon. As for Launchpad, he no longer had the aura of an over-grown puppy. He was in a white shirt with a black bow-tie, although he had taken off his black jacket and had it slung over one shoulder, which only showed how tight his shirt was against his biceps and chest.

For a whole minute, Charity couldn't breathe. Her cheeks were burning hotter than she had ever felt them as she took in the sight of the three ducks. Her stomach and heart switched places as she thought of them looking her way, smiling at her, surprised that she was there. She wondered if she would faint at their combined attention much like a young woman from a regency romance.

And then they walked passed her, not even giving her a glance.

Right… she thought to herself before she freaked out. The whole make-over. I don't exactly look like myself.

Charity turned around, seeing if perhaps they were joking or would realize it was her. But, no, they kept walking. Although, they did look just as good going the other way. As was the style, white feathers peeked out against the black fabric.

"Ducktales. Wooo-ooo," Charity whispered to herself before banishing her dirty little thoughts. It wasn't as if she could keep all three of them to herself.

But then Fenton stopped in his tracks, allowing Drake and Launchpad to get ahead of him, and he slowly turned around. His eyes locked on her as he walked back to her.

"Miss, could I ask you for a dance?" he asked, holding out a hand. By the glint in his eye, he knew who she was.

Charity curtsied. "I'd be delighted, sir." She took his arm, and they headed toward the dancing room with the dolphins. She was glad to have a chance to see inside the bowl-like tank, but she had a hard time looking at anything else besides Fenton.

"Gladstone's luck is amazing," Fenton said, once they had started into a slow waltz, following along with the stringed instruments.

"Then the Orb is here?" Charity asked, her fingers rubbing the beautiful fabric of Fenton's jacket.

"Well…no. But a painting is, one we need to help Gladstone," Fenton said. "We could use his luck to attain it." He studied her intensely. "That is an interesting look you have."

"I didn't want to be recognized," Charity said.

"It worked," Fenton said, twirling his dance partner before bringing her back into his arms. "I didn't recognize you."

"But you looked back," Charity said, confused.

Fenton sighed and tapped his temple. "Gizmoduck recognized you. He likes you."

Charity blushed, looking down. And because she couldn't help herself, she broke out of rhythm to wrap her arms around his chest and hide her face against his shirt.

"Are you—" Fenton began, and she heard him swallow. "Are you okay?"

"Kind of," Charity said, muffled. "It's just been a long night. I'll tell you about it later."

Arms wrapped around her. "It's okay. You just stay there as long as you need to."

"Where is he going?" When he noticed Fenton was no longer with them, Drake had turned to look around, spotting the other duck escorting a girl toward the dancing area. "Isn't he going to take this seriously?"

"Oh, you boys can go off and have some fun," Goldie said, waving her hand at them. "The main event won't start for a while. Go on. Shoo."

Exchanging uncertain expressions, Launchpad and Drake hesitated. Mrs. Beakley didn't need any more encouragement even though the words weren't directed to her.

"Not you. I think you need to stay close to me," Goldie called out, snagging Scrooge's arm before he could sneak away.

"Unhand me woman," he grumbled although a corner of his mouth turned up.

Sensing that there was a lot more chemistry between the two than Scrooge let on, Drake walked away with Launchpad in his wake, going in the direction he last saw Fenton. Even though Goldie excused them didn't mean he wanted everyone to go off on their own.

Inside the dancing area, one couldn't help letting their eyes stray to the dolphins swimming around, imitating the dancers as they spun and swayed together. In fact, the marine mammals seemed to enjoy watching the dancers and the lights flickering around the bowl.

Moving away from the exit, Drake leaned against the acrylic tank, watching as a dolphin swam overhead with a joyful smile on its face. Launchpad joined him and easily pointed out Fenton on the dance floor, a girl in his arms with her face pressed against his chest.

Well, that didn't take him long. Perhaps the scientist was much better with women than he thought, which meant that his shyness was all an act, Drake suspected.

At his side, Launchpad chuckled as if someone had told a joke. And whatever he was thinking about caused him to laugh several times as they waited.

Drake would have asked his friend about it but he was in a sour mood. Back at the Yakuza's office, when the guards were pulling out their guns, Fenton and Mrs. Beakley had reacted on a dime, diffusing the situation in an instant. And what had Drake done? Nothing. He had stood there, frozen in place as Gizmoduck prevented what could have been a deadly incident.

He had been in tough scrapes before. He had fought guys with guns before. He had gone against murderers and drug dealers and had taken them out. But this time, he couldn't do anything? Was it because there just wasn't anything he could do? He had no weapons of his own. He wasn't even in costume. Was that it? Was it because he wasn't Darkwing Duck that he couldn't even make an attempt to help?

In reality, he knew that there really wasn't anything he could do in that situation. But he should have been prepared. He should have brought his gas gun or something, anything to help. Instead, he had been useless. It just went to show that he was still an amateur. What kind of super hero went into the lair of a Yakuza boss without anything?

The song ended, and Launchpad strode into the crowd of bodies that had stopped swaying to applause the band for the song before they started another, this one a classical version of a popular pop song. Stopping in front of Fenton and his partner, Launchpad held out his hand and the woman accepted his invitation.

Drake was glad that Launchpad was having some fun. He didn't seem the type to ask a complete stranger to dance, but then again, the two had never been at this type of event before. But still, Launchpad should have asked a different girl. There were several lined up on the other side of the room, chatting in groups. In fact, maybe Drake should do just that. It would be something to pass the time.

Fenton dodged a few dancers before coming alongside Drake, his face looking flushed. And it wasn't because he had exerted himself on the dancefloor. Perhaps the man blushed for all the girls.

"You have something on your shirt," Drake said, pointing to a blue and purple sparkly powder that marred the designer shirt.

"Oh, thanks," Fenton said, wiping it away, his cheeks growing redder.

"You must have been some dance partner for her to get that close," Drake teased, amused by Fenton's embarrassment.

"Well, she said she had had a bad night," Fenton said.

"And you didn't look like you minded comforting her," Drake continued.

"Well…no," Fenton admitted with a smile. "Although it's Launchpad that has cheered her up. He's really good at doing that."

Launchpad was making a valiant attempt at dancing, although the girl winced once in a while, no doubt when stepped on her foot.

Drake nodded in agreement. Launchpad could bring a smile on anyone's face, even a complete stranger.

"Sorry," Launchpad said again as he stumbled along the dance steps.

"You're fine," Charity said with a wince. "It's just like Junior Prom. Have you gone dancing since then?"

"Nope." He seemed proud of the fact.

"Geez, Launchpad. Not even with all the girlfriends you've had?" Charity questioned with a shake of her head.

"You're not any better," Launchpad shot at her with a smirk.

"I'm not the one who's supposed to be leading," Charity said. "When this is all over, we should go on double dates together and go dancing." She couldn't help thinking that maybe Fenton could teach them. He was a good dancer. Those thoughts went to what it would be like to date him.

"Or we could go dancing together," Launchpad suggested. "You know…maybe like a date?"

Charity stiffened and her cheeks warmed. "A date? Is that…really what you want?"

"Well…I mean…that is if you still like me like that," Launchpad said, looking shy himself. "When the curse is broken."

Charity had never seen Launchpad shy before. "But you don't like me that way," she said, looking down.

"Well, I've never thought of you in that way. You've always been Charity, my best friend, not really a girl."
"Gee, thanks," Charity snorted.

"You know what I mean," Launchpad said with a smile. "But my parents were best friends before they got married, and…you know how they're like. They're still best friends."

Charity knew exactly what Launchpad was talking about. They were like big kids with pilot licenses, always going off flying here and there but on the ground, they were so lovey-dovey, it was a little sickening.

"Charity, I already love you but I've never been in love with you," Launchpad said. "Maybe if I started thinking about you in that way, then perhaps I really am."

Shaking her head, Charity had to hold back the feelings that were threatening to burst out. Being between Fenton and Drake had been hard enough, but she was able to discount their actions and words to them being over-protective super heroes. It hadn't even been a week since she had met Drake and Fenton, and if they felt anything for her, it was a crush at most. A crush that could turn into something more with time, but a week wasn't enough to determine how they really felt for her.

But Launchpad…She had known him and loved him for over ten years. If he was going to do this to her, she couldn't handle it. For him, she would be willing to abandon the quest for a cure and settle down. She would give up everything for him.

"Don't," she said, pushing him away. "Don't say things like that."

"Why not?"

"Because I may just kiss you to test that theory," Charity said with a bitter smile. "Just like I did during Junior Prom." Her cheeks burned. The words had come out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying. "Sorry. I think I've had too much alcohol tonight."

Launchpad pulled her close, swaying with the music. "I'm sorry. I've been an idiot."

"No, you haven't," Charity said. "You've been Launchpad, which is exactly what I need. I love you the way you are."

They held each other close for the rest of the song before Launchpad led her off the dancefloor toward Fenton and Drake, the latter watching the dolphins with his arms crossed. When she approached, Drake only glanced her way before returning to the aquatic mammals.

Does he know that it's me? Charity wondered. Launchpad had guessed after watching her and Fenton dance a while, but Drake wasn't looking at her the way he usually did. In fact, she might as well not even be there.

"We should probably go find the others," Drake said, pointing a thumb at the exit.

"Don't you want to dance?" Launchpad asked with one raised eyebrow, his eyes moving to Charity.

Drake's demeanor changed from indifference to formal politeness as if he didn't want to hurt the feelings of a stranger he had just met. "Would you like another dance, miss?"

Out of his sight, Fenton and Launchpad stifled smiles, winking at Charity.

"Yes," Charity whispered, a little intimidated by this side of Drake but at the same time intrigued. She took his arm as he led her onto the dancefloor, wondering if she should tell him. However, the impish side of her wanted him to remain in the dark to see if he would eventually figure it out.

On the dancefloor, Drake put a hand on her hip and held out her other hand, his posture stiff and proper, completely opposite from Fenton who kept her close with a hand on her back. He looked so serious that Charity so desperately wanted to prank him. But what could she do?

"Are you enjoying the party?" Drake asked, looking down at her for a few seconds.

"Oh, uh yeah," Charity said softly. Would he recognize her voice?

"Are you here by yourself?"

"Um, no. I came with a friend. He kind of ditched me, though."

Drake gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. I'm glad that you at least had some fun dancing with my friends."
A devilish idea popped into Charity's mind, and it took everything she had not to smirk. She changed her tone, shrugged, and tried to sound as vapid as she could. "Well…I guess they were alright, but that guy, Launchpad, all he would talk about was Darkwing Duck. Can you imagine a grown man like that obsessed with that old kids show?" She felt Drake stiffen even more and fought off a fit of giggles.

"It's not that bad of a show," Drake protested a little although it sounded as if he were restraining himself.

"Whatever," Charity said with a roll of her eyes. "But he wouldn't stop talking about some yahoo dressing up like him and pretending to play hero in purple pajamas and a cape. Who does he think he is, Gizmoduck?"

"Gizmoduck," Drake growled through clenched teeth.

"Now that guy is a real hero," Charity gushed, laying it on as thick as peanut better. "And what a hunk. There's definitely no comparison between Gismoduck and Darkwing Duck."

"Wait a minute," Drake said suspiciously.

"I mean, someone would have to be under a terrible curse to fall for a guy like that," Charity finished before Drake pulled her in close.

"Charity," he hissed before she let her giggles loose.

"Your face," she gasped, her sides already hurting she was suppressing laughter "Oh gosh, your face was priceless. Especially when I mentioned Gizmoduck." She hung onto Drake's shoulders just to keep standing up.

"Okay, okay, you've had your fun," Drake said, making an attempt at dancing again. "People are staring."
Charity's body shook, too weak to wipe away her tears. "Oh gosh, I'm going to pee myself," Charity snickered, her face pressed into Drake's jacket.

"You'd deserve it," Drake said before he laughed as well, rubbing her back. "So, I've heard you had a bad day. What happened?"

"Gladstone took us to a crappy club and I was hit on by a sleaze," Charity mumbled, her giggles gone. "Then I fell on a piano."

"I'm sure there's a lot more detail than that. Remind me to give Gladstone a talking to," Drake said, holding her close and spinning them in a slow circle.

"Eh, leave him alone. He's not a bad guy," Charity said, remembering how he lectured her about the drink and stood up for her against the club owner. "He was gracious enough not to save me, so that's something."

Drake chuckled, and Charity relished hearing it through his chest along with his heartbeat.

"I really shouldn't be dancing with you like this," Charity said with a smile on her beak.

"Why not?" Drake asked. "You were this close to Fenton and Launchpad."

"Exactly. Now everyone is going to think I belong to some escort service or something," Charity said with a giggle. "It'll be your fault if some old guy offers me money."

"Well, I'm not letting you go until this song is over," Drake said.

"Hmph," Charity said, pretending to be grumpy. "Fine, I'll suffer through it." She tightened her grip on him.

When Gladstone left Charity to mingle with the patrons, he hadn't expected to find a stage and sound system set up with a wall of sharks swimming on the other side of acrylic glass. He still didn't know what this was all about, but this was where the action was going to be. From eavesdropping and talking to people here and there, he was able to piece together that a contest of a sort would happen on the stage and that a prize would be given to the winner. Several guests clustered around a table near the stage that was monitored by a pair of guards. On the table was an assortment of items.

With Gladstone's eye for what was priceless, popular or just plain posh, he calculated the worth of each item. There were a few statues and sculptures from modern artists, only one well-known enough for Gladstone to recognize. An emerald of impressive size but poor quality sat on a pillow of velvet. There were a few other knick-knacks of museum or collector quality including a small impressionist painting, a jade elephant and an oni mask of excellent craft except someone had inlaid the eyes with cheap crystals. The one item that held the highest value and probably what everyone was talking about was a Japanese painting that looked to be several centuries old.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here?" a Scottish brogue growled at him.

"Why, Uncle, that's not very nice. I'm full of surprises," Gladstone said humorously. His smile widened. "Oh, my. I'm not the only one. It's nice to see you here, Goldie." He took the woman's hand and kissed it.

"It's a pleasure," Goldie said, giving him a smile. "I've always wondered how you could be related to this cranky, old fuddy-duddy, Gladstone."

"Luck, of course," Gladstone said with a laugh and a wink.

Scrooge glowered.

Don't worry, Uncle. I'm no competition for your paramour, Gladstone thought, knowing enough not to say this out loud. Goldie had always been more flirt than intent, that is, unless Scrooge was involved. Too bad his uncle never figured that out.

"So, why are the three of us drawn here?" Gladstone asked.

Together, Scrooge and Goldie told Gladstone about their meeting with Torataro and what he wanted in exchange of rethinking killing the half-goose.

"And we have to win this mysterious competition to get this painting," Gladstone reiterated, observing the stage.

"Exactly," Goldie confirmed.

"Well, with our crack team, this shouldn't be too hard," Gladstone said with more confidence than he felt. As much as he relied on his luck, it wasn't always reliant. "We should go find the others."

"No need," Goldie said, nodding to the stage. "Things look like they're about to begin."

"Welcome. Welcome, everyone. I'm so glad to see so many friends to join me for this evening," a terrin in a flashy suit said into the microphone, stopping all talk within the room. "I'll be announcing tonight's special event in a few minutes after everyone gathers around. In the meantime, let me point out some of my guests." He began naming people in the room, the audience warming up with applause for each person.

"Ah, there's Charity," Gladstone said, waving his arm as soon as the lovebird came in sight. "And of course she found her harem."

Charity hung on the arm of Launchpad as the four walked in, gravitating to Gladstone when they caught sight of his green suit among all the darker colors.

"Where's Della?" Scrooge asked, looking for his niece.

"You know how she is around fish," Gladstone said, gesturing to the entirety of the aquarium. "I sent her back to the hotel."

Not long after, Mrs. Beakley joined them.

"They're announcing the contest soon, so you came in just in time," Goldie told the group.

"What contest?" Charity asked, still clueless as to why any of them were at the aquarium at eleven o'clock at night.

Before anyone could answer her, the terrin on stage had finished his name-dropping and had rallied the crowd into a loud—but not rowdy—excitement. "Let's get this party started. You are on the edge of your toes to find out what this month's entertainment will be. Considering that we are in one of the most beautiful venues in Tokyolk, I thought what better way to party in the land of the rising sun than to have a karaoke contest."

The crowd whooped and clapped at the announcement.

"And as always, I'll be the official judge," Terrance Terrin said, getting another round of applause.

Gladstone blew out a puff of air. It could have been better, but then again, it could be worse. "Alright, can anyone here carry a tune?"

Everyone shifted, some dropped their gaze.

"Drake is pretty good," Charity volunteered.

"Well…I am," Drake admitted, not able to deny it.

"How good?" Gladstone asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I've been in quite a few musicals," Drake said. "Mostly on-stage, but when I was a teenager, I played the main lead in an amateur film."

Gladstone perked up. "Then you're our guy."

"We should put in as many singers as we can," Goldie suggested. "To raise our chances."

"Charity has a nice voice," Drake returned the favor.

When their eyes shifted to the lovebird, Charity waved her hands in denial. "Nope."

"Come on. How long did you hold the high score on Karaoke Revolution?" Drake asked.

"That's completely different," Charity protested. "On that, I get points. And a program voice telling me I'm doing great. And I'm not singing in front of a bunch of people."

Gladstone sighed. "Charity, please. If we don't win that painting, I will die," he said dramatically.

"And that's my fault?" Charity asked rhetorically.

"It's just one song," Gladstone protested. "I'm risking my life to find that orb you so desperately need."

"I already did my part," Charity yelled, earning her several glances from people nearby. "I got you into that stupid club so you could drink your Damn Martinis…"

"The Best Damn Martinis," Gladstone corrected.

"…and I was man-handled and pushed off a—"

At that point, Gladstone clapped a hand over her beak. There was no point in getting her boyfriends to do Torataro's dirty work for him. "Alright. Alright. I know I've asked a lot from you tonight, and I'm asking one more thing, but please, just do this one thing and I'll…I'll…I don't know. I'll owe you a favor or something."

"But what—"

"My luck brought us here tonight. Don't ask me how I know, but it needs to be you," Gladstone pleaded.

Charity sighed. "I'm too nice. Okay, I'll do it."

"Yes. Thank you," Gladstone said, patting her shoulder. "So, you two should go sign up. I think you should pick popular songs, real crowd pleasers."

Goldie jumped in. "No, Terrence doesn't hop on trends. He likes passion, so pick a song that you really can put your heart into, no matter how obscure it is."

Drake scratched his neck. "Do you think they'll have the Darkwing Duck Theme Song?" he asked.

Gladstone stared at him. "You must be joking."

Drake smiled and shrugged.

Gladstone grabbed Charity's shoulders. "My life is in your hands."

"No pressure," Charity muttered, following Drake to where everyone was signing up for the contest.

Meanwhile, several large men worked on the stage, setting up speakers, a large screen with a projector and several microphones. A sparrow in a jazzy, red dress was setting up a computer to the sound system.

In only a matter of minutes, the first contestant was on stage, singing a Japanese pop song that was getting the crowd in a good mood with Drake and Charity still in line.

"Drake, could you go first, please?" Charity asked worriedly. She was twiddling her fingers.

"Sure," Drake said. "But it really isn't that bad. You have a beautiful voice. I'm surprised you haven't sung in public before."
"Well…I have for my family. And singing with friends. And I sang at my High School talent show," Charity admitted. "But there's something about singing in front of strangers that…really freak me out."

"I understand. This crowd is a little intimidating," Drake said. "But you can do it."

"Yeah, sure," Charity muttered.

"Hey, when you're up on the stage, don't look at the strangers," Drake said. "Me and Launchpad and Fenton will be right up front, and you just watch us. You're not singing for these other people. You can sing just for us, okay?"

Charity gave him a tight smile but didn't say anything else.

Two more singers made it on stage before Drake and Charity could sign up before joining the others. The crowd was growing more and more energetic after each singer, the minutes passing by. The group listened with interest, no one more so than Gladstone, trying to figure out who was the top runners of the contest.

Charity, however, barely paid attention. The more she thought about singing for the crowd that was growing by the minute, the sicker she felt.

"Wait, I just thought of something," Gladstone said, looking at Charity. "The guy at the door, he said that this Terrance whatever-his-name-is, he liked those YouTube videos you were in, Charity."

"Uh…"

"But he's not going to recognize you looking like this," Gladstone said. "We need to get that stuff off you. Goldie, get her hair. We want it down. Let's get her to the bathroom and wash this off."

Charity was yanked in one direction before Drake stopped them.

"Wait, this is high quality costume make up," he said expertly. "Unless you want her to take a shower, it's just going to splotch her feathers and ruffle them."

"Hmmm, what do you suggest?" Gladstone asked.

"It's just colored chalk. You can wipe most of it off," Drake said. He pulled out a handkerchief and stroked it down Charity's arm, taking a streak of black and purple chalk away and revealed the blue underneath.

"Okay, let's get to work. We need every advantage we can get," Gladstone said, pulling out a handkerchief himself and getting to work removing the purple from Charity's hair.

The end result wasn't as neat or professional, but she did look like herself, her hair more wavy than curly.

"There, now everyone will recognize you," Gladstone said with satisfaction.

Charity glared at him.

Drake grabbed her hand. "They're calling my name. I'll be up in a few songs, so why don't you come wait with me."

Reluctantly, Charity followed, already earning several interested glances her way.

Taking a triumphant stance, Gladstone said, "After today, I don't think anyone should be able to say that Gladstone Gander didn't work for anything. It's going to take more than luck to win this."

"Did you say that your name is Gladstone Gander?"

"Yes, I did," Gladstone said, turning around to introduce himself to the person behind him, only to have his beak run into rock-hard abs. He looked up, and up, and up, into a smiling face of what could only have been the distant cousin of the Beagle Boys. And he wasn't alone.

"There's a hefty price on your head," the owner of the abs said, grabbing Gladstone around his skinny neck and hauling him away before he could make a peep.

"Everything is going to be okay, Charity," Drake said.

Charity was hyperventilating. Not only was Drake next in line to sing, but standing backstage and catching glances of the audience with all the lights and the speakers pounding, it caused Charity to panic.

"Gladstone was probably just exaggerating," Drake said comfortingly. "And who cares about if we get the painting. That guy is so slippery, he could squeeze through a keyhole. He'll be fine."

Charity eyed the garbage can in the corner, wondering if she would make it there if she threw up.

"Hey, where's that competitive girl that was on the roller derby arena and didn't want me to beat her high score?" Drake asked, giving her a smile and wagging his eyebrows. "You motivated me to learn how to roller skate in less than an hour. You took on Negaduck. You are going to be amazing."

Charity looked up at him, a smile forming on her face.

"Just keep an eye on Launchpad and Fenton," Drake said, pointing out to the audience. "They're going to be—Oh crap." He had straightened up, his eyes seeing beyond the lights and jumping people a group of large, goon-like men come up from behind and pull Gladstone away. And because of the noise and flashing lights and the bodies packed in, nobody noticed that he was gone.

Forgetting about Charity, he rushed off the stage, pushing his way through the crowd.

Charity's eyes widened, not knowing what Drake had seen that would cause him to abandon her.

"Drake Mallard. Drake Mallard, you're up next," a woman with a headset called out as she walked by.

"Wait. Drake had to…step away for a minute," Charity said, stepping in front of the woman. "It's an emergency."

"Well, he better get here in two minutes, because if not, he loses his chance," the woman said.

Charity had counted on Drake going first to bolster her confidence, and without him, her only hope of keeping it together while on stage was to pretend that she was only singing for Launchpad and Fenton. If she could just look at them the whole time, she could do it.

But when she looked out into the audience, they were all gone.