This AU has been an absolute delight to write. I was initially inspired by a line in "I Always Know It's You" where I mentioned Boyd's heroic tendencies contrasted against Louie's scheming. Then I thought about taking that a step further... And this was born.
It's rated M because there's swearing and implied sex, mental health struggles, alcohol consumption, smoking, (maybe drugs, who knows, haven't written it yet), and just a whole lot of criminal, unhinged Louie. Like, I would feel bad rating this lower than M especially since Pep! and Depressed is rated M and it's much milder than this. There's a lot of stuff in this story that I'm gonna write (imply) and you're going to think, wow, this person has no experience with this thing. That is absolutely correct. So I won't get in too deep about anything, but it will still be in the story.
So what's the plot thread of this story? Well, Louie runs a criminal empire and Boyd is a superhero. What happens when the two meet and begin to fall in love? Drama, that's what. ANGST.
I honestly can't explain it any better than you'll figure out from reading the story but I'll be hopping into the A/Ns every now and then for exposition drops.
Also, I am excited to say you're about to get a lot of Jailbird almost all at once- I decided to write several chapters and release them together to better establish the story instead of trickling chapters. I have the first arc of the story planned out, it will have 15 chapters and you'll get the first third to begin with.
The April edit of Jailbird coincidentally adds in May and June, wasn't easy to figure out how they'd be a part of the story but I love them too much to leave them out.
It took 10,000 hours to master anything and Louie Duck had put in the work. He'd been lying, stealing, and doing whatever it took to get ahead since he was a child. He had made and broken more alliances than he could keep track of and there was no one he could actually trust as he ran his criminal empire.
No one he could trust with a few small exceptions. When the door to Louie's apartment flew open he immediately drew a weapon, his expression only softening when he recognized his brother Dewey.
"You're a supervillain now?" Dewey exploded, holding up a newspaper with Louie, disguised but recognizable to his siblings, on the cover wearing dark, high-tech armor and a plague doctor mask.
Louie's eyes widened, "Damn, I can't believe it, they still print newspapers? I'm going to have to talk with someone about that."
"Louie. That's you, right?"
"I don't know why you're surprised, Dewford."
"I thought you were all about working in the shadows, pulling the strings from behind closed doors. This is pretty public, Llewellyn."
"Dewey, I'm thirty-"
"I'm also thirty, what's your point?"
Louie nodded, "You and Huey and Webby, you all have your things. Your families. I just have my little business, I get bored. I get lonely."
"So you became a supervillain?"
"Everyone needs their hobbies! The heroes need their red herrings and I have bigger fish to fry."
"Louie. I'm going to try to say this in the nicest way possible- download Grindr. Get a boyfriend or a booty call or at the very least, a cat. You can't keep this up forever, we're worried about you."
Louie's eyes narrowed as he gripped his gun, "Who is we?" He didn't like bringing more people into his circle. It was much, much easier cutting people out.
Dewey laughed nervously, "Me, Huey, Webby, etc. Our family, Louie. The people who love you."
"As far as I'm concerned, I'm protecting this family," Louie said, adding, "That's my hobby. Making sure the Duck family is finally getting what we deserve."
Dewey let out another nervous laugh, "Man, you sound so fucking creepy right now…"
Louie smiled, which made it worse, "I'm sorry. I don't ever mean to concern you. I need you to trust me, I will take care of this family. Just keep the players off my scent, I'll deal with the NPCs. I will take care of this family."
"Louie…" Dewey started, hesitant to argue when Louie was still holding a gun.
"Yes?"
"Try to take care of yourself as well. This," Dewey tossed Louie the newspaper, "This is dangerous."
Louie took a deep breath, "I'll be okay, Dewey. Thanks for worrying about me, but I'm fine."
Dewey was about to argue that people who were fine didn't commit crimes in plague doctor masks, but this wasn't a battle he really wanted to fight.
"Listen, you can call me any time, or just show up at my house without a gun, whatever you need. I'm here for you, Louie."
"I'm fine, Dewey. Go be with your family, tell your kids that Uncle Louie loves them." Louie was almost forceful now, stepping towards Dewey and making his brother back out of the apartment. Dewey couldn't help staring at Louie as he moved away. Louie wore nice clothing, a suit and tie, but his hair was a mess as if he'd been tugging on it, he was tightly gripping his firearm even now, and it was unclear if he'd left his apartment all day. How long had he been wearing that suit? His eyes were the worst of all, dark and crazy, colder and crueler than space. If Dewey had had more time he would have reminded Louie about eating, drinking water, and sunlight.
Instead, before he turned away he gave Louie one last sorrowful glance, "Take care of yourself, man. I love you."
"I love you too," Louie said before he slammed the door, the pictures on his walls beginning to rattle.
Louie was exhausted. What was even happening anymore? The day seemed to have blurred before and after Dewey's visit. He didn't know what time it was, he didn't want to check. His phone would buzz an hour before his next thing and until there was something to work towards he existed in some kind of limbo.
Maybe an hour passed with Louie just sitting by the door staring at his gun. Why was Dewey even worried about him? He was fine. He was an executive AND he was functioning. Finally, his stomach began cramping and hunger forced him off the floor.
The worst thing about running a criminal organization was that he couldn't order delivery food. He didn't trust people outside of his siblings with his home address. Paranoia ran deep in Louie's veins and he considered it his best strength. This line of work kept him on his toes, he had to do whatever it took to keep his family safe and comfortable. His niblings had their future college educations and hospital bills paid for and his Uncle Donald and Aunt Daisy were able to retire happily. Really, Louie felt like he was holding this family together. It was just tearing him apart.
If he couldn't have delivery then he would have to find his own food, there definitely wasn't any in his apartment. He changed out of his frumpy suit into an equally frumpy hoodie that was at least clean. It was green and grey and he instinctively tightened the hood around his face. He couldn't be recognized. No, no, who would recognize him? He had aliases, disguises, and so many people working under him, so many people working for him. He would be fine. But being public enemy number one meant the whole public was your enemy and so he couldn't help worrying, even as he allowed his hood to fall down over his shoulders.
He ended up in a greasy little pub with a dumb name, Washington Corner Pub, the one on the corner of Washinton Avenue. It was possible Washington Corner Pub was still in business solely because of the number of times he'd stumbled in after days of forgetting to eat and left massive tips on orders of sandwiches and chips and beer. He didn't have a tab here but he paid other people's tabs whenever he came in, always feeling a little extra generous and extra in general when he was drunk.
The owner didn't know his name because Louie had always paid for everything in cash but he smiled when Louie walked in. Something cracked inside Louie, that smile was the goodest, most pure gesture anyone had shown him in a long time, save for Dewey breaking into his apartment earlier today.
"Your usual?"
"Yessir," Louie said, nodding humbly, business owner to business owner.
"It'll be ready in a minute." Louie stuck his hands in his pocket, glancing at his normal booth near the bathrooms and the dartboard, only to find his seat occupied.
"Hm…" He strutted over and took the seat across from the other man.
"Hey, buddy, are you drunk?" The handsome man across from him asked. He was wearing a button-up shirt, navy blue with a constellation pattern, and a red bowtie. What kind of guy wore a bowtie to a pub? It worked for this guy, though. Everything worked for this guy, Louie would've flirted if he had actually been drunk.
"Not yet," Louie said, "are you? You're in my seat."
"I've never seen you here before," The other man said with a matter-of-fact tone.
"You're still in my seat," Louie said.
"Well, if you're inclined to sit here I suppose you can stay but," The man gestured to some paperwork that Louie was just now noticing, "I'm swamped, so I don't intend to move."
"Who does paperwork at a pub?" Louie wondered, realizing only a moment later that he had said it out loud.
"Someone whose apartment hasn't had electricity in nearly a week," the other man said with a shrug.
Louie frowned, trying to remember if he had something to do with that, "What building? You could sue your landlord for that." If Louie was lucky, which he almost never was, Scrooge McDuck would be this guy's landlord.
"Ah, it's not a big deal. I'm Boyd, by the way."
Boyd stretched his hand out and Louie hesitated before shaking it, trying to figure out what to say in reply. He knew Boyd expected his name, he didn't know which one to give. His delusions of grandeur had faded years ago, he didn't plaster his name all over his company anymore so technically, his real name was a safe bet. He had so many aliases. This was fine. This was normal, every day people meet other people, every day people say their own names out loud without worrying about the consequences.
Just as a server was setting down his sandwich and chips and his first beer Louie decided to answer, "Louie. It's a pleasure to meet you, Boyd."
"It's nice to meet you too." There wasn't much talking in the next few minutes, Louie was ravenous and his mind was turned toward eating, though he kept stealing glances at the stranger across from him as a different kind of hunger took over.
"What are you working on?" Louie asked after a moment.
"Oh, uh, it's boring. Equations, scientific stuff," Boyd said.
"Fine then," Louie said, taking a sip of beer, "Keep your secrets."
Boyd let out a little laugh, his smile lighting up his entire face. Louie felt a little flutter in his chest when he saw that smile. He didn't exactly know why, Boyd wasn't his usual type. Too polished, too polite.
"So you're a scientist?" Louie asked and Boyd nodded, looking a little proud of that fact.
"Is it Dr. Boyd, then?"
"Dr. Drake. Well, Gearloose-Drake, but my dad is Dr. Gearloose and the full thing is a mouthful and so… Sorry, I'm rambling."
Louie's smile screwed downwards for a moment. He knew that name, Gearloose. Gosh, why was everyone connected to Scrooge McDuck? Then he regained his composure, "I'll remember that, Doctor."
"What about you? What do you do for work?"
"Ah, I'm an entrepreneur. Haven't quite reached my full potential yet, though." Louie couldn't tell someone he had just met, much less someone who worked for that old bag of bitterness, what he really did for a living. Dewey had been surprised about the public show of supervillainy, but it went so much deeper than that.
"Fine then," Boyd smiled, "Keep your secrets."
"Can I buy you a drink?" Louie offered.
Boyd looked surprised, hesitated, and then nodded. Louie flagged down the server and ordered two more beers.
"Thank you," Boyd said, raising his glass for a symbolic toast.
"Oh, no problem. I buy beers for strangers who take my seat all the time." Boyd laughed again, and Louie felt color rush to his cheeks.
Louie and Boyd spent the next hour talking and drinking, dancing around secrets as Louie got looser and looser with each beer.
He didn't remember getting home that night, but he must've, because when he woke up, he was in his own bed, spooning a very attractive stranger.