Chapter Four:
Gosalyn and Darkwing were arguing when Launchpad checked the clock. His neck itched, but he tried not to think about it - it was going to itch for the rest of the night. Gosalyn swore up and down that the Super Glue would wear off after a few hours, and he hoped that was true, because he really didn't like these bolts on his neck that much. They were, she'd insisted, essential to the 'Frankenduck' look, and she was the one with the experience in that area so he didn't bother to argue. She'd assured him that they looked extremely cool, and he had to admit, it was a sort of neat look.
By now it was after seven, and Beth still hadn't come over. Maybe he should go and see if she was okay. "Hey, guys?"
Gosalyn, whose zombie costume looked far too convincing for Launchpad's nerves, didn't seem to hear him. "You're gonna go because you always go, Dad! They'd notice if you just didn't show up!"
If Darkwing cared about this fact, he didn't show any signs. "I'm not going to go, because I have to go on patrol." In fact, he was already wearing his costume, and had been for most of the day.
Launchpad sighed and waited for a break in the argument. When one came, he tried again. "Guys, I'm just gonna-"
"One second, LP," Darkwing said absently without looking in his direction, and then addressed Gosalyn again. "I've never even tried to pretend I like the Muddlefoots, Gosalyn, pointing that out isn't going to get me to change my mind!"
"Maybe if you'd just -" Gosalyn began, exasperation in her voice, and Launchpad shrugged and stepped outside.
He clomped along the sidewalk - that was really the only word for it in boots like these - then clomped up to Beth's door and tried the knob. It was locked... Funny. She wouldn't've gone without him, would she? He knocked on the door. "Beth? Hey, Beth, are ya home?"
There was no answer, so after a few moments more he was turning to go back and wait for Gos and DW, when with a click and a creak, the door edged its way open. Stepping inside, he said, "Hey, you are - here..." but the words died as he looked around and saw no one in the room. The lights were on, but the room was entirely empty. He turned the doorknob, still in his hand. It was unlocked now. Puzzled, Launchpad just stood in place and said nothing.
"Hello?" Beth called from upstairs, and he jumped - he'd practically forgotten where he was for a second. "Is someone down there?" she yelled, sounding slightly worried.
"It's me, Launchpad," he called back, and shut the door behind him. "Did you come down to unlock the door?"
"It wasn't locked!"
"Um..." He paused, then said, "You sure? I coulda sworn it was..."
"It must've been stuck!" she called back.
Okay - sure, that made sense. He shrugged. "Guess so... Ya gonna come down? I'll lose my voice yellin' up to you like this!"
She didn't answer for a few moments. Finally she called, "No, I'm not!"
"What? What about the party?"
In a voice that now sounded even more worried than before, she called, "I'm not going to the party!"
"Why not? Can I come up?"
"No DON'T!" she yelled. He sighed.
This was getting ridiculous. "Um, Beth, is there somethin' wrong? Do ya need help?"
"Nothing's wrong," she answered, with that little note of 'I'm absolutely fine and not bothered by this at all, really' in her voice. "I just don't have a costume, is all. Not one I should wear out."
"But ya spent all that time on it! You don't make bad stuff!"
"Um," she said, her voice wobbly, "it's not bad, it's just not good for me, so... You guys have fun and I'll see you tomorrow!"
Launchpad blinked, exasperated, and wondered if this was how Gosalyn felt with DW. It was like pulling teeth. By now he was feeling just about ready to go up there and pull her out of wherever she was hiding herself. "Can I at least see the costume and tell ya what I think about it? Ya might like a second opinion-"
"NO!" she said, sounding about to panic.
"Aw, Beth, c'mon. It's ME," he said plaintively, and after a pause, there was a sound from above of a door opening quietly.
A moment later, her hand appeared around the corner of the upstairs wall, followed by her head and an intriguingly bare shoulder as she leaned tentatively into his line of vision. "Promise not to laugh?" she asked quietly, her hair framing her face in a style he'd never seen before.
"Of course," he said sincerely, relieved to finally be making some headway. She took a deep breath and came down the stairs, wearing a dress that was right out of a movie. All white, full skirt, no sleeves, low cut... in fact the entire top part seemed to be made only of two sashes coming up out of the skirt that tied in the back. She had these little high heels on, making her a good inch or so taller, and her hair done up somehow so that it seemed only half as long, curling and waving around her face and brushing slightly down her neck. And, of course, she was in contacts instead of her glasses, so the blue of her eyes was twice as noticable.
He blinked. It was all he could do.
"See," she said with a sigh, reaching the bottom of the stairs and standing just before him, "told ya. Nice dress, but on me..." She looked up at him and noticed he was staring. "Launchpad? Um, hey, anybody home?" She waved her hand in front of his face, and he blinked again.
"Sorry. Um, you look..."
"I'll save you the search for a polite euphemism for 'stupid'," she said, smiling weakly. "I don't know why I thought this was a good idea - I mean the idea itself I know where it came from, because my middle name is Marilynn, even though it's got two 'n's and so it's not actually after Marilyn Monroe, but I thought, 'Hey, I can make that dress from "The Seven-Year Itch"', but somehow I neglected to think about what that dress would look like on me, and as it turns out I just look -"
"Beth," he said, his voice breaking a little. He felt like a teenager again. "You're gorgeous." She made a little noise, a quiet squeak that sounded like it had a question mark on the end of it, so he nodded. "You are. Your hair - your eyes... Wow, Beth..." He moved closer, leaned down a bit toward her, and actually if she hadn't moved he would have kissed her before he even thought about it. Fortunately - or maybe not - she took a nervous half-step back, looking from side to side, her eyes wide.
"A-are you just saying that because...?" she stammered, trailing off before voicing what 'because' was. He could take a guess, though.
"No," he said emphatically, "no, honest, I'm just statin' the obvious." She patted her hair nervously, but looked a little bit more at ease. Still, something about her expression, her eyes all wide this way, made her look like she was about to cry. He added, "Ya make Marilyn Monroe look like nothin'."
She blushed even more heavily, if that was possible. "Well, let's not go nuts here," she said, ending in a giggle, and stared at the floor. Her posture was looser now, and he could tell she'd relaxed. "Um... nice boots," she offered, and looked up at him, a bit more closely now.
"I feel underdressed," he said with a chuckle, putting a hand behind his neck and accidentally whacking the green fake forehead Gosalyn had picked up for him. It twisted to the side.
Beth reached up and gently pulled it back, straightening it just right. "No, no, it's a perfect costume! Much better for Halloween than this. Gosalyn's idea, right?"
"How'd ya guess?" he asked flatly.
She laughed, and when Beth really laughed without being self-conscious it was the most infectious thing in the world, so he did too. "I love the Frankenduck movies. Wow, you even got the bolts and everything. It's perfect."
Launchpad nodded. "Well, Gos has experience with this look," he said, grinning. "She was a real perfectionist about it seein' as how she got to do it for real." Beth was looking at him with an expression of shock, bordering on disbelief. "Uh, long story. I'll tell ya later. Ya wanna get goin'?"
She smiled shyly. "Love to. Do I look alright?"
"You look fantastic," he said softly, then as afterthought added, "which I already told ya about five times now," and winked.
Blushing to the point where she nearly glowed, Beth nonetheless smirked and said, "I just wanted to hear it again."
She took his arm as they left, and he walked her next door, beaming as proudly as though he could claim her as his own. "Y'know," he said softly as they reached the door, "you look gorgeous every day."
As a result, Beth was speechless and quite pink when Herb Muddlefoot, swathed in what must have been ten miles of bandages, tugged them jovially inside.
The party was a little bit more crowded than the parties at the Muddlefoot's house usually were - this time rather than being limited to the Muddlefoots, the Mallards, and the single Webfoot next door, about three other families had shown up. Herb was delighted at the chance to branch out, and was playing host to the full extent, trailing mummy bandages throughout the house. Honker on the other hand had retreated even more than he usually did at the larger company, and was spending most of his time against the wall.
Fortunately, Gosalyn was as loyal as ever, and spent her time right there with him. Of course, she had a few comments on his costume, but Honker had expected that.
"Charles Drakewin," he repeated, as his best friend shook her head. "You know, the father of the theory of evolution!"
"I trust you on that, Honk," Gosalyn said with a sigh, eyeing the period clothes Honker was draped in. Her eyes lingered skeptically at the dark-haired wig he had on. "All I'm saying is that if you're gonna be something for Halloween, at least be someone everyone knows."
"Everyone knows Drakewin! Actually I thought maybe he was a little too obvious," Honker answered earnestly.
"Honk, no one on the planet is gonna have any idea who you are!" Gosalyn said, waving her hand so hard that little chunks of fake flesh went flying. Honker frowned nervously.
A gasp from a little ways away drew both their attention, as a brown-haired woman scampered over to them. When she got a bit closer, Honker realized it was Beth; without her glasses and with the different hairstyle, he'd had no idea. Before he could even say hi, she exclaimed cheerfully, "Charles Drakewin!!"
Honker beamed, and Beth laughed happily. Gosalyn sighed and muttered, "Okay, one person on the planet, but I shouldn't be surprised."
"Wow! What a great costume! It's so accurate!" Beth exclaimed, looking him up and down. "Don't you look handsome," she said, winking, and Honker blushed and grinned. Rather stupidly, at least for Honker, Gosalyn thought. Beth ruffled the hair of the wig affectionately, and Gosalyn stared at them both, particularly at Honker who looked downright dopey.
"HI, Beth," she said pointedly.
Smiling, Beth turned to face her, and her smile faltered just a little. "Um, Gosalyn! That's a very... realistic costume you have, also."
The eleven-year-old grinned with satisfaction. "Took me a week to make this paste for the fake deadrot," she said happily. "I was hoping Dad would let me get contact lenses so it'd look like my eyes were all white, but he said no. Next year I can get 'em though - I'm thinking, blood red."
Beth paled. "I'm amazed at your dedication, Gos," she said, and if nothing else, it was sincere.
Drake was not particularly enjoying himself. Sulking would be a good word, probably, except that he would never do anything as undignified as sulking, so he preferred to refer to it as 'very obviously not having a good time'. Whatever you called it, he was doing it in the corner, close to the little table of refreshments that Launchpad had naturally gravitated towards. While his sidekick grabbed handfuls of cheese puffs, Drake looked around the party a bit. Binkie was wandering around in a pink, sparkling dress, looking like something out of "The Wizard of Oz"; Herb was a mummy, and had already come by about ten times to slap him heartily on the back and ask how he liked the 'shindig'; Beth had come in with Launchpad and at first he hadn't even recognized her in that dress and with her hair done up that way. Marilyn Monroe, apparently, but what surprised him was that she played the part pretty well. She was talking to the kids now, apparently unaware that she was getting stares from various sides of the room. Probably best that she not know, at that.
His own costume was... well, his costume. Gosalyn had shoved him out the door in his Darkwing costume, and he'd finally conceded, as long as she'd let him take the mask off and fiddle around with the collar enough to make it slightly different. Herb and Binkie weren't actually that likely to put two and two together. Of course, he hadn't realized that anyone but the Muddlefoots would even be here, which was another reason he was now hiding in the corner and generally keeping his hat pulled down over his eyes.
Herb sidled up to him again, slapping him on the back and laughing. "Hey, Drakester, you gettin' enough air over here? C'mon out and talk it up!"
Drake winced. "No, Herb, I... I'm just getting over a bad cold, ya see. Don't want to infect anyone. Not even you," he said pointedly, and stared at Herb's hand on his shoulder until it was removed.
"Well, suit yerself," Herb said reluctantly, "but ya gotta make the most of it while you're here, okay? Sorry your lady friend couldn't make it..."
"Morgana?" He sighed to himself. "Yeah, well... She had other obligations." Too bad she doesn't also have a daughter who is adept enough at blackmail to make her 'forget' those obligations, he thought, scowling in Gosalyn's direction.
"Nice costume by the way, spud!" Herb gave him another thump on the back before remembering about the supposed cold. "Pretty good for a novice, but ya know I met Darkwing a good ten times, an' if ya can stand a little constructive criticism, ya got him all wrong. I can getcha pictures if ya want, though -"
"It's fine," Drake growled through clenched teeth, his arms tightly crossed. "I look exactly the way I want to look."
Herb chuckled. "Well, whatever ya say, buddy. Lissen I gotta go talk up some o' the other neighbours, but I'll be back soon, so don't go nowhere!"
I gotta get out of here, Drake thought desperately, trying his best to sink back into the corner until he became invisible.
Launchpad stared at Beth for a minute or two while her back was turned, before he walked up to her with a handful of cookies Binkie had made. She looked slightly cornered, talking to a woman who lived across the street and was dressed in a 'Frankenduck's Bride' costume; Beth had never been good at conversation with new people, no matter how friendly they were or how harmless they looked. But, cornered or not, she still practically glowed; even in a room full of people, there would only be one like her, looking pretty and shy and cute, in that dress or in her usual shirt and jeans.
He smiled and joined her, handing her a cookie. "I think they got raisins in 'em," he said quietly, then turned to the Bride. "Hey!"
"Hey yourself," she said coyly, "looks like you and I are supposed to hook up, huh?"
The woman laughed, and Beth said quickly, "Actually, if you're following the movie you're supposed to hiss at him and run away." The Bride blinked, evidently taken slightly aback, and Beth fidgeted. "According to the movie."
"Sure," she said. "Well, I don't want to interrupt you two. Nice talking to you, Beth."
As the woman walked across the room, Beth turned and frowned up at Launchpad, evidently only slightly upset. "Well... I'm a stickler for details," she said defensively, and casually hooked her arm through Launchpad's, pulling him in the direction opposite that in which the woman had gone. Launchpad grinned.
At that moment, a loud knocking began on the door. Herb answered it, shambling over in his bandages, and the door swung wide open before he got to it, revealing a shapely figure in a black dress so form-fitting it looked as if the wearer had been sewn into it. The wearer in question stepped inside, smoothed her hair gracefully, and in a throaty voice said, "I haven't missed the party, have I?"
Beth's heart sank slightly. Morgana. Morgana, the tall mysterious drop-dead knockout witch whom everyone liked, wearing an even more provocative dress than usual and currently being greeted by a very jubilant Herb. "I thought she wasn't coming," Beth whispered to Launchpad, who, like everyone else, was staring. As usual.
Launchpad shrugged. "That's what she told DW. Some entrance, huh?"
Sighing heavily, Beth said, "Yeah."
Drake's interest was grabbed; he ran across the room to escort her into the party, looking like his life had been saved. "Morgana! I thought you weren't going to make it!"
"Oh, darling," she purred, stooping to kiss him on his forehead, "it turned out that there was less to do at tonight's celebration than I thought there would be, so I left early. Binkie, it's so nice to see you again!"
The hostess twittered, her huge pink ballgown in sharp contrast to Morgana's long black dress. "We're just thrilled to death to see you again, Morgana! There are refreshments over there, and ooh, I see you brought your own spider decorations!" she said, pointing at Archie, who was perched on Morgana's right shoulder.
Smiling warmly, the witch said, "It seemed like the season." She led Drake around the room, stopping at Beth and Launchpad. "Beth! It's so wonderful to see you again - it's been too long."
Beth plastered a big smile on her face and hoped it looked real. "Gosh, you too," she said, forcing a laugh and stepping back towards Launchpad a teensy bit. "Loooooong time. Real long. I didn't even realize it 'til now."
"Well, now I'm even more glad I came," said Morgana, and turned to Launchpad. "Launchpad, the same goes for you! Next time Dark and I go out we should make it a family thing, with you two, and Gosalyn. Speaking of Gosalyn... I love your costume," she said, and she and Launchpad shared a laugh before she floated off along the floor.
"Does everyone know that story but me?" Beth asked irritably.
Launchpad flushed beneath the green makeup he had on. "I'll tell ya later, promise."
"Fine." Beth sighed, picking at the half of the cookie she hadn't eaten yet, and stared after Morgana. Just like everyone else in the room. "She's so beautiful."
Launchpad shrugged. "Yeah. She's okay, if you like that sorta thing. Ya kinda get used to it after a while."
"Really?" Beth found that a bit hard to believe, but Launchpad just turned to her and smiled.
"Sure. That dress is nice, but really she looks just like she usually does, 'cept in black. You, though... You look - heh. Wow."
Beth blushed again. She should feel guilty - she always felt guilty when he talked like this, and a little bit of that was because she kind of enjoyed it - but tonight she didn't mind so much. "Wow?"
"WOW." Launchpad wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she giggled and smacked his arm a little.
"Well, um..." She looked around for a moment, then hitched her voice up a register and spoke in a breathy near-whisper, "It's not easy being a bombshell you know..."
Launchpad blinked. "Whoa! I didn't know you did impressions, too!"
"Just of Marilyn," she answered, nervously crumbling the cookie apart and grinning, "and um... I don't normally do that one in public anyway."
"Well - you're good."
She nearly said that she'd watched a lot of movies with Marilyn in them; she nearly said that it was just a lucky shot; she nearly said it wasn't that good. Instead she just said, "Thanks." Somehow watching Morgana circle the room with Drake staring at her adoringly wasn't half so bad now.
It was well after midnight by the time the party wound to a close. Drake roused Gosalyn from her slumber on the couch, and Honker was led upstairs by his mother while Herb bid everyone goodnight; Morgana was invited over "any ol' time", and she appeared delighted, although Drake seemed quite keen on rushing her out the door before any more socializing went on.
Outside, Beth shivered in the late October night air as Morgana bid everyone goodnight. "It's good to get to see you all at the holidays," she said cheerily, while Gosalyn leaned against her father, looking as though she were asleep again already.
"By the way, Morg, thanks for not just teleporting inside while everyone was there," Drake said, holding Morgana's hand in his own.
She smiled teasingly. "I thought about it, actually. I could have passed it off as a Halloween gimmick."
"I know you get along well with the 'living impaired', Morg, but I'd rather not have a heart attack any time soon."
"You take everything too seriously, Dark," she said fondly, and kissed him.
Beth tried not to notice, and didn't argue when Launchpad said, "Hey, I'll walk ya home."
"I think you should be a vampire next year," she said as they walked, rather slowly, along the extremely short trip.
Launchpad visibly shuddered. "No way. Had too much of that already."
After a pause, Beth asked, "Is this one of those things you'll tell me about later?"
"Yep." He grinned. "Actually I was thinkin' I oughta do like you, be a movie person. Be James Dean or somethin'."
"Be Elvis!" she said delightedly. They reached her door, and she leaned her back against it before going inside, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her shoulders to keep them warm.
"Hey, I could be Bogart," he suggested, "I can sorta do an impression of him."
"Oh?" Beth's eyes gleamed wickedly. "I did Marilyn for you, now you do Bogie."
Launchpad cleared his throat and said in a slurred sort of growl, "The problems of two people don't amount to a hilla beans." Beth laughed, and he leaned closer, caging her in. "If you don't get on that plane, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon - and for the rest of your life," he finished, eye to eye with her.
Softly, she said, "Frankenduck doesn't say that."
"Fire bad," he mumbled, and moved closer. This time she let him.
"Launchpad," Drake's voice came from next door, "I'd like to get Gosalyn home and lock up the house sometime this century?"
He stepped away quickly, and Beth turned immediately and fumbled with her doorknob, let herself in, and gave a quick "Night!" which he barely had time to return before she'd shut the door and locked it behind her.
Well... shoot.
He shook his head and walked home.