With Tiffy fully occupied with drying her doleful chestnut eyes, Drake slipped through the scratchy baby pink curtains, keeping a wary eye on her. He really didn't want to be sucked into comforting her because she couldn't get over Negaduck doing what he did best: acting like an ass.

Only once the frilly lace had settled, hiding the room from view, did Drake allow himself a triumphant smile. No overactive female hormones could keep this mallard down, he was simply too quick for them.

In a spin worthy of dancer, the mighty mask-less mallard strut off the porch step, felt a lump beneath his foot and unceremoniously flattened his bill into a squishy, mountainous mass of rock.

"No, Gosalyn, I don't know where Electric Mayhem put their potatoes," he mumbled, trying to blink away the white spots around his head.

Lanton's boisterous laughter filled his ears. "I was starting to wonder if Tiffy had glued you to the couch. Well, no sense standing around, your brother is waiting on us. Oh, watch your step round the stone bunnies, they'll trip you up something awful. "

Lanton gave Drake a playful shove towards what had probably been a deck at one point, but was now more of a large wood box with windows.

Convenient, a house side jail. Drake thought blandly.

The outside of the structure, like the rest of the place, was a bunny paradise, but once on the inside Drake felt his jaw drop through the floor.

Lanton chuckled like a greased up Santa. "You didn't honestly think I'd put those damn rabbits of hers in my getaway room did ya? Come on, grab a chair and sit down"

Lanton clapped him on the back, forcing him to regain some of his senses the hard way. What was this place? First flamingos, then bunnies, now a full working bar and grill decorated to the look and feel of a 1950's casino? It couldn't be the Twilight Zone, T.V. shows did not spontaneously spring to life in the backyards of suburbia, no matter how close the match.

Drake pinched himself. He wasn't dreaming, and he knew he wasn't dead, so it wasn't hell. His brain slammed on the breaks to the point he thought he smelled burning rubber. How did know he wasn't dead? How did he know Negs hadn't actually shot him, killed the Waffleburns, and now they haunted the house?

I wonder if TAPS would investigate us? He mused idly. It would figure my best T.V. appearance would end up on a show like that.

Still feeling like someone had stolen the center of gravity, Drake allowed himself to be guided to a round poker table roughly in the center of the room. Lanton smiled at him warmly, and pulled out the chair next to Negaduck for him to take.

Relief flooded his mind. Negs was still here, he wasn't dead after all. Unless . . . unless Negs had been caught in the explosion when he destroyed the house and he was dead too.

Drake caught Negs's eye, and mouthed "are we dead?" when Lanton had his back to them.

Negaduck minutely shook his head, then subtly gestured to Lanton who had grabbed another chair. The large man sat opposite them, his smile just as wide as before and just as vacant. A lime green drink mixed with fruit swirled in his cup before he chugged the whole thing, and smacked his lips.

The detective part of Drake's brain kicked on. This whole situation was wrong, the

driving head first into traffic wrong. His eyes darted to his unlikely companion, taking in small details no one but him might ever have noticed: the angle of his chin, how he curled his hands, the number of crow's feet in the corner of his eye . . .

Crow's feet! Since when did he have crow's feet? Thirty-eight was nowhere near old enough for crow's feet! Almost subconsciously he reached to touch the corner of his eye, but one curious look from their host was reason enough to turn it into a mindless, every day stretch. The kind everyone got from sitting too long. He would just have to wait until he got home. If he got home.

Another quick glance at Negaduck, left Drake to conclude that his twin was on edge, that he knew something he didn't, and that Negs had been right -this was not an accident. He turned his full attention back to their host.

Lanton smiled warmly, refilling his cup past overflowing. "Could I offer you boys something to drink?"

A gruff "pass" slid off Negaduck's tongue.

Lanton chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. "I figured you would after this morning. What about you? You thirsty?"

Drake met his eyes; the smile didn't reach. "No thanks, had a fruit smoothie earlier, so I'm fine."

"Ah, suit yourself, but you're missing out on one helluva grade A southern mix. Guess you weren't joking about not being too big on drinking, Steve, sounds like the same is true of your brother here."

"Draco."

"Come again?"

"You want to talk, knock off this "Steve" crap."

His dirty brown eyes opened in mild surprise, accompanied by a small head shake. "Fair enough, and sorry about that. Said your name was Draco, right? And your name is, uh, Drakey?"

"Drake," came the irritable, but straight forward reply.

"Man, someone did you wrong coming up with a nickname like that."

"Whaddya want?"

Lanton turned to Drake. "Blunt fellow, isn't he?"

"It's genetic." Drake said dryly.

Their oversized host shot his head back in a full bark of a laugh. "Ooh, bet you two gave your momma a headache. So Drake, who's Gosalyn? That your sister, high school sweetheart?" He smiled teasingly.

"Who the hell cares," Negs snapped.

Lanton jumped. "Whoa, just curious."

"Yeah, well don't be," he snarled.

"Touchy subject, eh? She do something to you boys?"

"No." Drake said, annoyed.

"What kind of job does she have? She in the same line as you two?"

It had been said carelessly, but Drake felt the feathers on his back stand on end. Negaduck, however, was positively murderous. He knew he was capable of a lot more tact and self control than people credited him, but he had a limit and Lanton had just about reached it with his little questions and personality switches. Shit like that was his gimmick.

Their host stopped, noticing his two guests had gone rigid. "Something wrong, fellas?"

"No." Drake repeated.

"You sure?" Lanton inquired.

"Yes," the boys said in union, deadpan. The complete surprise that washed over Lanton's face, Drake felt was probably the only real expression he had given them all day.

"Great flying piranhas, that is 'bout the eeriest thing I've ever heard! I don't think I've ever heard a set of twins sound like you just did; all in unison like there was only one of ya. Which, uh, come to think of it, you two wearin' the same thing was an accident right? You're not all 'we are one' kinda people are ya?"

Drake gazed over at Negs, then shrugged. "Usually we're at least in different colors."

Negs glared at him pointedly. "Are you going to start talking about our underwear preferences too?"

"Uh," he gagged on his tongue, "uh, no, no... I, I never really paid attention to that."

"Shut up. Just shut up."

"Hey, you brought it up."

"I told you to drop it!"

"Then why-"

"DAMMIT DRAKE! Can you -for once- just LISTEN, nobody wants to hear it!"

Drake folded his arms irritably. "It's not my fault you always have to have the last word."

Negaduck made a hesitant choking motion with his hands towards his double, wishing a black hole would spontaneously appear and suck the moron into oblivion.

"Might want to take a breath there, boy. You'll pass out if you're not careful."

Negaduck uncurled his fingers and lowered his hands. He took a deep breath then dug his heel into Drake's foot, watching his mirror image bite his lip to keep a straight face.

"No more stupid comments, okay Drakey?" He smiled, removing his foot.

"Only if you stop playing footsies with me."

"WHY YOU-"

"KNOCK IT OFF!"

Surprised by the outburst, the quarrelsome ducks turned to their not so amused host, blue eyes wide.

"Now that I have your attention, so I don't embarrass myself further, what is Gosalyn to you? Cause clearly I'm barking up the wrong tree." Lanton asked.

Negaduck laughed sharply. "Think obnoxious little brat with too much energy and not enough common sense."

Drake glowered at him. "She is not!"

Negaduck returned the look. "I watched her eat an entire box of Zombie Heads cereal. You cannot tell me she isn't hyper, that crap is over eighty percent sugar, and the rest is fake corn syrup, and wheat!"

Drake smiled sheepishly, rubbing his arm. "I should probably stop buying it, it can't be good for her."

"She might live longer if you do. Although, considering this is Gosalyn, it might not help, it's not like she listens to you."

"Gee, thanks."

"Whoa, whoa -okay." Lanton waved his large hands over the table, bringing the attention back on him. "She's a kid then? Gosalyn is a kid?"

Negs let out a snort. "Duh."

"She yours?"

Negaduck's lip curled and he thrust his thumb at Drake. "No way in hell is that diminutive whelp mine, she belongs to the dweeb here."

Lanton cocked a smile, drink to his mouth. "Don't like kids?"

Negaduck bore his cold blue eyes into that of his portly host's, looming over him without ever having moved a muscle. "I rather be castrated with a hot butter knife."

Lanton stared at him, as did Drake who had instinctively crossed his legs.

". . . that was a bit more than I care to know," the large man admitted.

"Then don't ask."

The friendly tone dropped from Lanton's voice and he sat his half empty cup down hard on the table, sloshing the contents. "Now look here, you open your mouth and speak like that to me again and I promise you'll find a stone rabbit where the sun don't shine. I've had enough of your attitude, it's bad enough you made Tiffy cry and left your brother to cover your dumb ass, so watch it."

Instinctively, Drake swallowed down his rising horror. How in the world had Lanton known that? Had he been watching them the whole time and he hadn't noticed? Worse yet, had Negaduck been aware of it? Was that what he had been getting at?

Negaduck broke into a fit of laughter, which died almost instantly into a grin. His hands were shaking mercilessly, his knuckles turning white from restraint. His voice came out a low, toneless wraith devoid of all but calm fury. "Sorry, but I don't spread my legs and close my mouth for overweight grease monkeys."

Lanton smiled amusingly. A sharp flick of his wrist had Negaduck belly down on the table, pinned down by his equally large knuckles digging between the mallard's shoulder blades. A small gasp from the villain could just be heard over a crack.

"You better learn to do as I say, boy, or having your brother stitch up your backside with a rusty needle will be the best part of your day." Lanton effortlessly returned the withering duck to his seat like he had done nothing more than help him up after a fall.

Drake, remembering how to move again, leaned towards Negaduck and wrapped his hand around his double's wrist; everything about the duck was trembling. It would be on hell of a situation for "Negaduck" to come out of the woodwork and murder someone in his civilian clothes.

Negaduck breathed deep to steady himself and winced. Leaning into his lap he let out a low growl. He was fairly certain the bastard cracked, more than likely broke, a rib or two, and that they were now poking him in the lung.

Lanton partially stood to look at him. "What's the matter, Draco?"

"Oh, nothing," he said sardonically, raising his head. "Just feeling the effects of brotherly love." I am going to hang this bastard by his intestines. Nobody gets one up one Negaduck, especially a fat rabbit fu . . . DAMMIT.

A fresh jolt of pain shot down Negaduck's spine like a lightning bolt. He was dimly aware that Drake had hold of his arm, but then, right now he couldn't honestly say he gave a rat's ass who had a hold of him.

An all too familiar voice broke through the storm clouds in his head. "Uh, anything I can do to help?"

Negs's brilliant blue eyes locked with Drake's. "No. Son of a . . ." A rumble more befitting a caged animal rolled out of Negaduck, causing him to shiver either out of anger or pain.

Lanton sat back, mildly amused, as he had now unwillingly become part of the scenery.

Negs huffed. "All right already, quit looking at me like that, it's disgusting."

Lanton smiled at him. "Well shoot now, it was just getting interesting, but if you two are ready to do things my way, fine by me."

"Fine will be a cold day in hell, asshole." He said it so quietly he barely heard it himself, but Drake could guess and so could Lanton.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"I SAID FINE."

Lanton smirked. "That's what I thought."

Negaduck sat up as straight as he could and looked his host in the eye. "But I refuse to retract my statement."

Lanton started chuckling. It was an eerie laughter that the two Mallards hadn't heard before, quite frankly it scared them both, only one felt his stomach bottom out and the other couldn't stop trying to formulate an escape route that would work. It felt like they were slowly sinking into yet another level of hell on earth.

Normally, Drake would have placed the blame squarely on Negaduck's shoulders for not letting him leave, but in the end it had been his choice to stay. He had stayed, now he would have to live, or die, with it.

Author's Note: I changed Drake's age to 38 because of the episode Clash Reunion. Drake graduated in the 70's based on their clothes, and if he's getting a reunion notice in 1992, obviously it's his 20 yr reunion. Subtract 20 from '92, you get 1972. If he graduated at the age of 18, that puts his birth year at about 1954. So in 1992, he'd have been 38. And yes, I decided he IS egotistical enough to think he shouldn't have crow's feet despite fast approaching 40.