Something In the Air

Act II

After paying the driver her allotted fare plus a generous tip, Beth left the cab and then grabbed the edge of her stained shirt and sniffed it unselfconsciously. Making a face, she muttered, "So it was me." The reek which she had hoped was just the cab was, in fact, coming in waves from her shirt. It smelled like- well, like a combination of very cheap perfume and Koo-Koo Cola, with, yes, a hint of catnip and clove smoke buried well within the boundaries. She pulled the fabric away from her face and took deep breaths of air, thinking of clean laundry.

But, her light-headed mood- which admittedly may have been caused by the overpowering fumes on her shirt- reminded her of the day's events. Good news just didn't wait! Surely nothing terrible would happen if she took an extra five minutes to share the news of her promotion with Drake and the others? She took off back down her sidewalk and darted up the walk of the Mallard house.

Drake answered the door relatively quickly, and from the look of frustration on his face he'd been playing WiffleBoy again. Spotting Beth, whose face was sporting a broad grin of barely-supressed joy, he blinked. Then he sniffed, and made a face. Half-blocking her passage into the house, he said, "Laying the perfume on a little thick, aren't we?"

Blushing, Beth answered, "Something spilled on me on my way back from my meeting. But speaking of the meeting, do you want to know how it went?" She waited for approximately four tenths of a second before continuing, "I have never had a better day in my life! Well, professionally speaking, that is. Because technically I've probably had better days emotionally, or you know, in terms of events that have suddenly been introduced into my life, but speaking for my job, this is really really-"

"Beth," Drake interrupted her, his face still frozen in his "ew-what-is-that-smell" expression, "can this wait until I've beaten the hedgehogs in level four?"

Beth considered. "I... guess so." He moved to let her in, and she followed and shut the door behind her. "Where are Launchpad and Gos?"

"Soccer game," said Drake. Having vaulted the side of the couch to get back to his game, he was now thoroughly engrossed. Beth took a seat on the edge of the couch and waited patiently for his game to be over. Unfortunately her patience only lasted for a matter of seconds.

In an explosion of excitement, she suddenly spat out, "Oh Drake I just have to tell you, I can't wait any longer!" and her correspondingly enthusiastic hand gesture knocked the video game controller from Drake's grasp. He fumbled, dropped it, grabbed the cord, and hauled it back to his hands.

Whereupon the digitized voice rewarded his efforts with a decidedly unsympathetic, "Aw. Wiffle got walloped. You lose." Drake wilted, his hands ready to catch his face from hitting the floor.

Beth cleared her throat, shifted uncomfortably, and finally murmured, "Oops."

Drake inhaled deeply, which was usually a sign that he was doing his best to keep his irritation under control. Then he faced Beth with a rerun of his earlier grossed-out face. "What is making that smell, anyway?!" he asked.

"Um, I don't know," she shrugged. "It just sort of spilled onto me. And the cab driver who brought me home was smoking some weird cigarettes. Catnip or something."

"It smells like sardines," Drake announced as he stood up and headed for the kitchen.

She decided to ignore this; after all, it wasn't her fault. Anxious to share her news nonetheless, she called after him. "So guess what? I got a promotion!"

She was dismayed when Drake showed little enthusiasm as he returned to the couch with a drink in his hand. "To what from what?"

Blinking, she realized that he knew next to nothing about her job. Well, she rarely spoke about it. He sniffed again, and she felt uncomfortable, so talked around it. "Well, I was working in basic categorization for this CD-Rom project, but I've been promoted to elemental research! Not exactly my pure forté, but I know the area well enough-" She paused, as Drake was leaning closer to her and sniffing near her head. She tried to ignore it. "Uh, I know it well enough... so it should be fine."

"That's fantastic," Drake said vaguely, an odd look in his eyes. Beth wasn't sure what to make of it. He didn't seem to know what to make of it, either, and suddenly stood up and walked across the room from her. "So you're, uh, promoted?"

"Uh..." Beth wasn't sure what to say to this. "Uh, yeah."

Nodding, Drake started circling the couch slowly. Beth didn't have much time to get nervous before he approached her and peered at her closely, then sniffed again. The camel's back broke. Red-faced, Beth said, "I'm sorry about the smell, I didn't think it'd be that bad. It's really not my fault, okay? I'll go home-"

"No, don't!" Drake said, his voice sounding urgent. He grabbed her hand and held it. "Don't go. I like the perfume."

Beth blinked.

"No, really. It suits you."

She blinked again, her expression this time one of overt displeasure. "Sardines suit me?" she managed, dryly.

Drake looked surprised. "Did I say that? Why would I say sardines? It smells like..." he sniffed the air again, as if to confirm his choice of words. "Like lilac and honeysuckle. Just like you. Beth."

As he sat down on the couch next to her, Beth's heart rate tripled. That look in his eyes was vaguely familiar, though she was fairly sure she'd never seen Drake look that way- not at her, in any case! ...At Morgana, maybe... Oh, goodness, it couldn't be- could it? "Drake, um, you really think so? Lilac?"

Still holding her hand, Drake looked deeply into her eyes. "Whatever is delicate and treasured, that's you." Beth would have swooned if she'd had the presence of mind. Instead she blinked. Drake held her hand more tightly, but she barely felt the pressure. "Beth... I can't imagine how I've been so blind all this time..."

In later years, Beth began to think that the lives of herself and her friends were cursed to be interrupted at the most inopportune times. This was certainly not the first time it happened, and just a few hours later she found out that it was not to be the last, but that's another tale. In any case, this most inopportune of times to be interrupted was, ironically, interrupted when the door swung open and Launchpad walked in. He was followed shortly by Gosalyn, Honker, and everyone's favourite resident thug, Tank.

"Hey Dad! We won!" Gosalyn announced on entry. "Ice cream sodas all around, right?" She stopped a few paces into the house, however, and gave Honker and Launchpad an odd look as she took in the sight of her father clasping hands with a deeply-blushing Beth Webfoot. The look, which clearly said, "Something here is just not right," was echoed by both of its recipients. Her facial expression changed again a short moment later as she sniffed the air in the house.

Beth gently tried to pull her hands from Drake's tender grasp, only to find that he wasn't willing to let her go. Launchpad's face was now beginning to get what looked to be a slight variation on the usual expression in response to the smell, and Tank was sniffing the air. Perhaps she should explain. "Uh-" she began gracefully, and went downhill from there.

Drake came to her rescue, in a sense. Still looking into her eyes, he announced to the rest of the room, "Beth got a promotion."

"She did?" Launchpad asked immediately.

"I did?" Beth echoed. "I mean- yes! I did! I kind of... forgot, just now."

Gosalyn chimed in. "What exactly do you do, anyway, Beth? You never talk about your job!"

"Well-"

Evidently becoming more adept at speaking up, Honker said, "She's a researcher on a CD-Rom project about plants. Um, well, at least that's what she was doing a few months ago." He shrank back and adjusted his glasses, shyly.

"Wow," said Gosalyn. "I didn't think anyone remembered what she did!"

"Too bad you're not as smart as Beth, Honk," Tank muttered to his brother.

Launchpad grinned at her and gave her a thumbs-up. "Way to go! Hey, you'll be runnin' the company in a year!"

A little nervous under the scrutiny of this many people, Beth nodded uncertainly. "Yeah. I mean, uh, thanks. Gee, it's nothing much, just a bit more of a workload and a small pay increase..."

"Then you can afford to buy better perfume!" Gosalyn said, leaning close to Beth and sniffing. She recoiled. "Boy, Beth, whatever you paid for that stuff was too much! It smells like... like..."

"Sardines?" Beth supplied, downcast.

"I was gonna say gym socks, but they're about the same I guess."

Launchpad shrugged. "I dunno... I like it!" He didn't notice the incredulous look Gosalyn shot him. "Smells kinda like flowers to me."

That was just what Drake had said. As if to prove it, Drake repeated it. "Lilacs, don't you think, LP?" He slid his arm around Beth's shoulders casually, as if he'd been doing it for years now. Beth lost all feeling in her arms and fell into him, her expression blissful.

"Uh... yeah," said Launchpad, now a little puzzled. "Or daisies." Tank, standing back near the doorway and being uncharacteristically nondestructive, mumbled something about posies.

Gosalyn gave them all looks as though they were crazy. "I don't know where you guys are getting all this. It smells like funky socks to me, and I oughta know what funky socks smell like!"

Beth thought that was a pretty gross thing to say, but didn't mention it. Instead she was distracted by a smallish object in the corner that appeared to be floating. She blinked; with those colours and shapes, it looked like a little miniature version of the ThunderQuack. She couldn't stifle a laugh.

Turning to face her, Drake asked, "What's so funny?"

She pointed. "That's just so cute! Is that a toy ThunderQuack?"

"The FlashQuack!" he gasped in a panic-stricken voice. To her surprise, Drake bounded up out of his seat and barreled towards the flying mini-plane, leaving her unbalanced enough to fall over onto the rest of the couch. After she'd picked herself up from the cushions she saw him grappling with the thing, which was evidently no toy. As Tank turned to look at what was causing the disturbance, Gosalyn pushed him towards the door.

"Sorry you have to go so soon, Tank," she said, obviously putting a real effort into her actions.

Tank, who looked slightly lost, was straining against Gosalyn as she pushed. "I don't! Knock it off, willya?" He looked back at Beth, almost imploringly.

By this time, Gosalyn had the door open and was working on shutting him out of it. "Yes, you do! Your parents called!"

"But the phone didn't..."

He didn't get to finish the thought, since Gosalyn gave one final shove and was able to shut and latch the door before Tank fully knew what hit him. She leaned against the door, breathing heavily, as Drake released the FlashQuack from under his sweater.

"'Bout time," he muttered crossly as he took out the message from SHUSH and read it over. Looking up at everyone else, he reported, "Standard. FOWL intercepted a delivery to SHUSH labs, and they need us to get it back... some kind of fancy rock. Just your usual day-in, day-out spy work... We find FOWL's hideout and get back the rock, like we always do. Sounds like a snap." He crumpled up the message and tucked it back inside the FlashQuack. "Since time is of the essence, I won't need briefing. We can just go."

"It doesn't seem like Agent Grizlikoff, to let you go without briefing," Launchpad mused.

Colouring, Drake said, "Well, he didn't actually say I didn't need briefing. But, come on here. It's a rock. If FOWL stole it, obviously it's going to be some kind of jewel or something; how hard can it be to find? We'll be in and out before FOWL knows what plucked 'em. In fact, this mission is easy enough that I can afford to bring a guest along," he said slyly.

Gosalyn ran up to her father. "Really? I can go?"

Putting a hand on her head, Drake smiled at her apologetically. "Sorry, Gos, but you're still not old enough to come along on these capers. Besides, this one might be a little too boring for you."

"You're not trying reverse psychology on me again, are you?" Gosalyn asked him suspiciously.

He effortlessly ignored her. "Beth? I'd be honoured..."

Beth's eyes went wide at the invitation. "M-me?? Well, I- I really should, you know, shower first... Just to get this smell off of me..." She knew he wouldn't wait, and was starting to think maybe the smell wasn't so bad.

Drake gave her a fond smile. "Keep the perfume on. I like it," he said, raising one eyebrow in a manner that made all her doubts jump out the window in a sudden mad, joyous belief that they could fly. She took his offered hand and he led her to the transport chairs. "C'mon, LP," he said faintly, over his shoulder.

Launchpad gave Gosalyn a look that said, Are you seein' the same things I am? Her look answered, Yes, and they're going to give me nightmares. Launchpad just shook his head, wondering what the heck was going on.

Beth could not remember ever having been so aware of Darkwing's clue-following abilities. It was as if he were overemphasizing everything he did so that she'd notice. Was he trying to... impress her? But she didn't matter- or at least, she'd never mattered before! She spent little time trying to divine the reasons behind Darkwing's sudden influx of affection towards her, choosing instead to just revel thoughtlessly in it. Sure, maybe she'd regret it when it ended, but for the moment she was happy and that was all that mattered.

Launchpad, she failed to notice, was not happy. Darkwing was acting really, really weird, and for no reason Launchpad could figure out. He was normal enough until he thought about Beth; problem was, he seemed to be thinking of her all the time. Whether he was reaching out to hold hands with her in the tower or putting an extra-special flair into his deduction of FOWL's hideout, it was really obvious. Launchpad was actually surprised that Beth had been instructed to ride in the Ratcatcher's sidecar with him, instead of up on the cycle with Darkwing.

"Um, Darkwing...?" Beth spoke up suddenly. Darkwing and Launchpad both immediately gave her their full attention. A little nervous under their mutual scrutiny, she faltered. "Ah- I was, um, thinking..."

"You do that well," Darkwing said, smiling.

Beth blushed, while behind her, Launchpad rolled his eyes. "No, but seriously, um, this is a spy organization you're tracking down, isn't it? With henchmen and guns and weird machines?"

"Well, yeah, but I know you can be trusted," Darkwing said, missing her point.

She acknowledged the implied compliment, as she always did. "Oh- thank you. But what I was going to say was, well, um, isn't this a little bit dangerous? Just a bit...? I've been thinking about this, and it's not that I don't have faith in your ability to protect me, but..."

Launchpad added his agreement. "She's got a good point, DW," he said sincerely. "Beth doesn't have any experience on your cases, and you won't even let Gos come along on cases like these."

"I'd just be in the way," Beth said, nodding.

"No, it's not that," Launchpad began.

Darkwing sighed. "I'd love to have you along, Beth- I really need to talk to you right now. But you're right. I acted without thinking." Launchpad was surprised- he'd expected Darkwing to argue, what with the way he'd been acting around Beth. He'd practically been fawning over her, which wasn't like him at all! "I'll take you home," he went on.

"Oh- no," she objected. "No no no- you're on a case and you need to find the bad guys. I can walk home. It's broad daylight," she added, before Darkwing could protest, "it's not like I'm going to get mugged in the middle of the afternoon. I walk all the time. I have legs."

Smiling sheepishly, Darkwing pulled over and let her out. As she stood up from the sidecar, he took her hand and squeezed it. "Be careful," he said quietly.

"I should say the same thing to you," she answered.

Launchpad, who was trapped in the middle of their just-short-of-fond goodbye, looked from one of his friends to the other. Their expressions were identical; neither one seemed to remember he was there. He really wasn't enjoying this. It was bad enough when Darkwing was acting all funny over Morgana, or any other woman for that matter. That was just enough to bug him 'cause Darkwing started forgetting about his cases. But this woman was Beth! His Beth! Their mutual affection was more than even his cheerful obliviousness could stand.

By the time they finally let go of each other's hands, and Darkwing pulled away from the curb, Launchpad was well into an uncharacteristic sulk. And Darkwing, being Darkwing- in particular, being Darkwing in love- didn't notice.

Beth watched him pull away, and was left to her own thoughts for the first time since this new development had occured. She wanted to spin, to cry out with joy, to shout to the world how wonderful it was to be in love! But even through her euphoria, there was a nagging thought at the back of her mind that wouldn't go away. Isn't this awfully sudden? the thought whispered. Yesterday he barely paid you any attention, now he's not taking his eyes off you! She knew, fearfully, that she might be misinterpreting the situation; that his new interest in her could have some other, horribly unromantic explanation. She told herself she was just being paranoid, but the feeling wouldn't go away. What to do?

Now she wished she hadn't decided to leave. Although, she reminded herself, it was doubtful they'd have gotten much talking done with Launchpad there. She shook her head; she'd wait this out before she decided anything too rash. Love was blind, so they said, but none of the thousands of books or movies she'd ever studied on the subject spoke of a sudden, out of the blue adoration this way.

She considered all of this on her way home, only barely noticing the people she passed on the sidewalks. She failed to notice the men sniffing the air as she passed, then turning to watch her walk along, intrigued by her very movements. Sighs of devotion floated in her wake, which she also didn't hear, and in fact it wasn't until a particularly brave gentleman jumped in front of her and quite passionately proposed marriage that she even truly remembered that other people were there.

Fighting down her sudden terror, she turned the would-be fiancé down, then excused herself politely and ducked into an alleyway. That was alarming- she'd forgotten the horror stories she'd read of crazy people who fixated on normal citizens like herself. Well, she'd never forget again. Hearing a commotion out on the sidewalk she'd escaped from, she gulped and backed further into the alleyway. It sounded as if her "suitor" were loudly defending his claim on her. She was too afraid to leave the relative safety of the alleyway until it settled down, for fear that she might be attacked as soon as she emerged. Instead, she flattened against a wall and hid.

As she crept further down the alley, she neared a window in the base of the building she was standing against. The window led to what was once the laundry room in the basement of this now-empty building.

Except that the building wasn't empty anymore. New occupants had just moved in a couple of nights ago, although their presence was hardly what could be called legal, and their activities were limited mostly to the building's basement. The window which Beth was now standing in front of was one of several that was used as a look-out.

As it turned out, the look-out window was in use at the moment. The occupants were first aware of a pair of feet suddenly stepping in front of their breeze, and subsequently blocking their view.

The three Eggmen who were standing guard were momentarily stymied. "She's blocking our view," one stated.

A second nodded, and reached for his gun. "Should we kill her?"

The third shook his head. "Nah. She's not doin' anything. Give her a minute or so more and if she don't leave, then we should do somethin'."

After that, they tried to ignore her, although looking around her legs was not an easy task. It soon grew even more difficult, as the smell that assailed them began to get the better of them.

"You guys smell that?" the first of the three asked.

His companions nodded. The largest, his bill wrinkling in disgust, said, "Smells like rotten eggs."

"You think so?" asked the third. "Smells more like..." He sniffed again, and then sighed. "Honeysuckles."

"Roses," argued the first, dreamily.

The bigger one sniffed again, and then his expression changed to a goofy grin. "Chocolate," he said, his voice filled with adoration.

The three pressed as close against the window as they could, each trying their best to get a good look at the mystical creature who was enchanting them so. A slender brunette, looking fearfully around the alleyway, her fragrance floating around her and escaping no one. She was waiting to be found, to be possessed.

They stepped back from the window, each hesitant to admit their sudden weakness to the other. Finally the third one spoke up: "Uh, she's not leaving, so... Sh-she's trespassing."

"You're right!!" the second said instantly. "We'd better get her and take her prisoner!"

"Yeah!!" said the third enthusiastically.

The commotion seemed to have settled down a little; Beth listened carefully and didn't hear anything. She edged her way to the corner of the alleyway and risked a look.

No one was in sight.

She let out a breath of air in relief, and decided to leave. She threw a glance over her shoulder, but was already starting to leave the alley before the image she saw fully registered. By that time, one of the three menacing figures in yellow uniforms had already grabbed her arms and pulled her back. Another clamped her bill shut before she could scream. Fearfully, she looked at the third of her attackers, who smiled shyly back at her and waved a little.

With that, she was picked up and carried to the end of the alleyway, where the kidnapper with his hands free pressed a button and waited. The wait wasn't long, as the wall in front of them suddenly slid open exactly the way a hidden door would- which was very appropriate, Beth realized, because it obviously was a hidden door.

If she had been able to do so, she would have asked exactly who they were, why they were wearing what looked like egg-helmets on top of their heads, and just what it was she had done to make them kidnap her, because as it stood right now it seemed she was wearing some big neon sign that flashed "KIDNAP ME" at various intervals, and frankly she was getting quite tired of it and just wanted to go home, eat some cookie dough ice cream, and maybe watch an old romantic movie or two until Drake got home. Unfortunately the only thing she could manage to get past the kidnapper's hand was "mmph", and while she could say it in many different ways, the meaning just wasn't very clear at any time.

The door slid shut behind them, leaving no trace of anyone ever having been in the alleyway.