An Official Tip of the Hat
Despite the need for complete secrecy, there was a tingle of excitement in the air as Scrooge awoke that morning. Even as Beakley brought him his morning tea, and it was just the two of them in his room, the most acknowledgement they shared over the impending event was a sly, prideful smile.
He carried out the rest of his morning in its usual order: nutmeg tea, cold bath, getting dressed for the day, and finally breakfast in the dining room. No suspicions raised. No questions asked. No nephews today.
Beakley was the one who had suggested they make a small adventure out of the big news.
His breakfast finished, Scrooge gave his housekeeper a quick, affirming nod and excused himself to his study. There, he unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a blank, unassuming manila envelope. As he tapped his fingers along the back of it, that feeling of pride from earlier returned, and he thought back to the events that had led to this day.
After defeating Black Heron, Scrooge, Beakley, and Webby had taken the sub in for a quick stop at S.H.U.S.H. Headquarters to deliver Heron's robotic arm and be debriefed. Webby was allowed inside HQ only on the basis that she was a witness and key participant in the fight against Heron, and that she had drank some of the bouncing juice Heron had made. S.H.U.S.H. was especially interested in hearing her account of how she could "practically fly" with the juice.
But in the back of his mind, Scrooge knew Webby deserved more than that. She had earned more than that.
So after the debriefing, he sent 22 and her granddaughter back to the sub ahead of him, and stayed behind to have a word with the agency's director.
"You want us to commission a child?!" asked the director, flabbergasted.
"You heard her account," Scrooge began with an air of determined patience as they walked back into the boardroom. "And mine, and 22's. She's no ordinary child. And with 22 still technically in hiding, I need a new partner, and I want it to be Webby. And I want you to make it official." As far as things went in his mind, she already was, but having it S.H.U.S.H.-approved would be an added benefit for all.
The director stopped at his podium and hummed to himself, still looking unsure.
"I guarantee ye, if you don't do it now, sooner 'r later down the line she'll come a-knocking herself. This way at least, you can guide her training through 22 and let her learn the ways of S.H.U.S.H. early on."
Scrooge gave the man a pointed look, earning a relenting sigh from him. "I'll talk to the board, but I can't promise anything."
That had been over two months ago, and three nights ago, Scrooge had woken up just in time to see a hooded figure leave a file on his nightstand and jump back out the window. One of S.H.U.S.H.'s physical messengers, as electronic transmissions and other quicker means of communication were too risky in this business.
As he put his spectacles on and pulled the file under his blankets with a red light from his bedside drawer (he was much too tired to go somewhere more private, but he still had to follow protocol to some degree), his hope bubbled up. After reading the file, it burst forth to make room for a flood of joy.
They had commissioned Webby, his niece. His new, official spy partner.
He couldn't be more proud.
The next day, he pulled Beakley aside when he was sure none of the kids were around and told her the news.
At first, they squabbled over Scrooge not having bothered to inform her of his plan. Agent-in-hiding or not, she was still Webby's grandmother and guardian, and she should've had a final say in the matter.
But after some very, very strong convincing and a wee bit o' flattery (after all, Beakley had taught and trained Webby in everything she knew about being a spy, and it had shown on Heron's island), coupled with S.H.U.S.H.'s special addendum, Beakley loosened up. Even got on Scrooge's level of enthusiasm and came up with the plan to tell Webby the news.
And now, it was time to put that plan into action.
After carefully tucking the envelope into his coat, Scrooge locked his desk drawer back up and stealthily made his way out of his study and down a series of the mansion's halls.
In the hallway with Webby's bedroom door, he caught sight of 22 coming at him from the other end. This was the first step of their plan, a way to coordinate their timing so they were on the same page.
As they crossed each other's paths right in front of Webby's door, Scrooge gave it two sharp raps with his knuckles and kept walking, a sly grin working its way onto his face again, while Beakley came to a halt. He hurried the rest of the way down the hall, turning the corner just as Webby opened the door.
"Hi, Granny!" Webby greeted in an unsuspecting tone. "What's up?"
"Webby, dear, have you seen Mr. McDuck's hat? It seems that it's been misplaced..."
Beakley's voice faded out as Scrooge carried on, a chuckle escaping him. His hat was safe, right on top of his head. But with the subtle clues they had laid out late the night before, Webby would find it—and him and the S.H.U.S.H. file—one way or another.
All he had to do now was wait.
He walked downstairs to the garage and opened the Other Bin, taking careful measures to lock it back up behind him after he stepped through.
After catching Webby and her friend, Lena, in here a while back, he'd felt uneasy about including it as part of the plan. But Beakley would be with her this time, and if there was any of the kids he trusted to come in here, it was Webby.
Besides, it was still the most secure location in the house to deliver the news.
One thing Scrooge had done when designing the Other Bin was to include a few decoy rooms: safe, empty rooms that might throw off any would-be intruders. The idea was that their unsuspecting nature would make the intruder think there was a trap that would spring out at any second. It would knock them off their game, make them jumpy.
But there were no traps, no danger. And the rooms doubled as perfect spots for moments like this.
The room he finally entered—Room 2204—was already set up. Metal table, one tall swivel desk chair on the far side, and another smaller, metal chair on the other side.
He flipped a light switch, causing the overhead lights to go out and a single spotlight to flicker on above the table. Altogether, it looked a lot like the interrogation rooms back at HQ.
Scrooge took a seat in the tall chair and placed his hat in the middle of the table, then swiveled around so he was facing away from the door, staring into the dark. He steepled his fingers together, closed his eyes, and listened.
At this point, Webby should've collected several scraps of paper with clues and would probably be thinking that someone with a knack for riddles had taken his hat. He forgot exactly what he had typed up on his old typewriter—something about a "borrowed crown" and some basic multiplication—but in his defense, he'd been too busy imagining her reaction to this mini-mystery.
The minutes passed and finally, Scrooge heard the door creak open, followed by a gasp. He kept still, willing himself not to laugh or otherwise give away his presence.
Two sets of footsteps made their way to the table, the tiny, lighter ones quicker than the heavier's. There was the sound of the chair scooching closer and someone climbing on top of it and-
Scrooge whirled around in his chair like a villain, raising another startled gasp from the young duck. She was about to lift the hat from the table with both hands, as if it was some rare treasure. (Which, to her, it probably was.)
"I'll take that, lass..." Scrooge told her without explanation, plucking the hat from her grasp and putting it back on his head.
Webby didn't resist. Her face, which had been serious and focused on her mission just moments before, was now filled with befuddlement. "Uncle Scrooge?"
"...And give ye this instead." He reached into his coat and pulled out the S.H.U.S.H. file, then slid it across the table to her with a push of his fingers.
Webby looked between him and the file and back, then carefully flipped the envelope over and opened the clasp on the back. As she read the letter within, her eyes lit up, and Scrooge took a moment to gauge her grandmother's reaction behind her. Beakley's arms were crossed as she leaned to one side, obviously impressed and amused with Webby's performance in her little adventure.
As Webby scanned to the bottom of the page, she looked back up at her granny and then Scrooge, her eyes brimming with genuine surprise. "Is...is all this real?" she whispered.
"As real as the ID that's also in there," he hinted with a nod towards the envelope.
She reached in it again and pulled out a small laminated card containing her credentials.
As the excitement began to overtake her and she let out a squeal of delight, Scrooge explained, "S.H.U.S.H. only requires that you continue to train with Agent 22, and that, until you're sixteen, you're listed on the record as my apprentice in the field. But otherwise..."
"...I'm an official S.H.U.S.H. spy?" she finished.
Scrooge nodded, a proud smile lighting up his beak. "And my partner," he added.
Webby bounced up from her chair and ran around the table to leap up and wrap her tiny arms around his middle. "Thank you, Uncle Scrooge- er, I mean, Agent McDuck."
He chuckled at the name and returned the hug, nuzzling his head against hers.
"Welcome aboard, Agent 202."
It feels like it's been forever and a day since I posted a non-gift fic, but here we are. Just some uncle/niece fluff I came up with after reading the Solving Mysteries and Rewriting History book. I *think* this is my first official DuckTales fic (that's not a gift)? Anyway, I hope you liked it!