Chapter Text
It was a Saturday afternoon, all sunshiny and nice. Or it would have been, if a certain SOMEBODY wasn't leaving him in the lurch, Drake thought bitterly. That Somebody, a certain Launchpad McQuack, was standing in the foyer, a battered old suitcase in hand, about to head out the door. Drake and Gosalyn were standing in front of him, ready to see him off.
"—and like I said, we're plannin' on goin' to see the air show in town, which lasts til next Saturday," Launchpad explained, again, for what seemed like the umpteenth time, and Drake rolled his eyes up at him, probably also for the umpteenth time.
"Yes, we get it, LP! You're gallivanting off to your old hometown to go see the 'oh-so-great' annual air show," he mocked, punctuating his sarcastic insult with scare-quotes. "Not really surprising that that's the kind of thing a pilot would wanna go see in his free time."
Now pointing up at his dopey sidekick, he said, "Only remember that you're actually taking time off from your JOB of sidekicking to go do this silly, frivolous thing. I just hope you're okay with shirking your duties like that."
Launchpad frowned deeply, looking torn.
Gosalyn scowled up at Drake. "Cut it out Dad, you two just busted the entire Fearsome Five like last week! Heck, I think every one of Darkwing's villains is in jail right now, so crime will probably be pretty low for at least a couple of days. Plus, Launchpad here probably needs a break from the hero game now and again."
Gosalyn then ran forward and hugged the tall pilot, perhaps trying to cheer him up. Well, Drake certainly wasn't about to encourage his sidekick to start taking all of these vacations at the drop of a hat.
"You don't just take a 'break' from the hero game Gos!" He exclaimed, crossing his arms.
"Oh, stop guilt tripping him, Dad," Gosalyn said, sticking her tongue out at him. Launchpad laughed nervously while Drake just glared.
"Heh, well, anyway, so that's the plan for my little trip to Duckburg. I put the hotel info on the kitchen counter, DW."
Drake scoffed, and looked off to the side. As if he needed to know where he was staying! Was he trying to rub it in his face or something that he was going on vacation? Not everyone's so lucky they can just up and leave, like SOME people apparently can.
"If ya need anythin', just let me know." Then Drake noticed that Launchpad had gently placed a massive hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, losing himself in those big, tender eyes for a second.
Then, clearing his throat loudly, Drake very curtly brushed off Launchpad's gigantic hand. "Well, you'd better be prepared for me not calling you EVEN once, cause Drake Mallard and Darkwing Duck can get along just fine without you!"
He wasn't ready for it—not that he ever was—when Gosalyn elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Groaning, he crumpled, hugging his stomach.
"What Dad here means to say is have a fun trip, Launchpad! We'll be looking forward to seeing you when you're back home!" Launchpad smiled down at them, but there was something wistful playing about his features.
"Well, my cab's waitin', so…" Launchpad was peering down at Drake, arms slightly extended like he was expecting something.
Did the idiot want him to give him cab fare? Not gonna happen, LP! If he wants to leave so badly, then he gets to pay out of his own pocket for it! Drake loudly hmmphed and turned away, but he tentatively glanced back.
He saw that Gosalyn had accepted Launchpad's open-armed invitation and was now hugging him goodbye. Oh puh-lease. He's only gonna be gone a week. Big deal.
But when he briefly peered up at LP, Drake was startled to see Launchpad looking sadly down at him. Something in that expression made his guts twist like they'd been stabbed with one of Negaduck's sharper knives.
"Bye, Gos. I'll see ya later, DW…" His voice was so IRRITATINGLY soft and tender-sounding, especially the way "Deedubyah" rolled off his tongue. Drake grimaced as he felt another sharp twist of the knife. He watched Launchpad turn and gazed at the pilot's massive, muscular back as he went out the door.
Drake suddenly felt his eyes misting over. Grr. Must be his damned allergies acting up.
After Gos had finished waving the cab goodbye from the window, she turned and put her hands on her hips, glaring up at Drake.
"Can you GET any more dramatic, Dad? Way to make Launchpad feel like crap just for taking a trip back home!"
Drake scoffed indignantly. "He's shirking his duties here with me…err, Darkwing Duck, to go play around in Duckburg—why shouldn't I point that out? It's the truth!"
Gosalyn gave him the side-eye. "Yeaaah riiiiight. I think you might be just be POUTING because you secretly wish you were going there with him! I bet you'd go to Duckburg—or anywhere really—with him if he so much as asked you!"
Gulping, Drake suddenly found that he was very interested in the welcome mat by the door. "What?! Me, pout?" He waved away the ridiculous notion. "I'm doing nothing of the sort! I'm a little miffed, maybe, since I'll be out a sidekick for a week. And n-no, I wouldn't go just anywhere with him! Especially not Duckburg, that God-forsaken place."
Gos just shook her head, looking at him like she didn't believe him in the least.
Urgh, why did he feel so flustered? The whole thing WASN'T a big deal. Maybe he'd pour his nervous energy into making a nice dinner for just him and Gos. Launchpad be damned.
But even that didn't stop him from setting a place for all three of them. As soon as he did, his stomach lurched, and he tried to hurriedly put back the extra plate. But Gos saw it, and was giving him that look again.
"Gonna be 'just fine' without him, huh? Five bucks says you can't make it three days." Drake felt himself flush. But it was because he was angry, not because of any other...weird emotion he was having right now.
"Young lady, you are ONE smart aleck remark away from getting grounded, and then it'll be a peanut butter sandwich dinner and you going straight to your room!" That straightened her up real quick, and they finished the dinner talking about other, strictly non-Launchpad things.
They then spent the rest of the evening sitting around watching TV. Drake was perched on one side of the couch and Gos was lounging on the floor, half-watching TV, and half-playing her newfangled video game, which somehow was both portable and could connect to a TV screen.
Drake's eyes kept flitting back to that well-worn spot on the couch that was empty tonight. He sighed.
Gosalyn looked up and over at him. "Dad, he'll be back next week. You need to chill."
Drake felt his cheeks get hot and he involuntarily sat up straighter. "Wh-wh? I'm not even thinking about him, Gos!"
"So who are we talking about, Dad?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Well, Launchpad, of course!"
Dammit, that was a trap.
He tried his best to recover. "Ahem, well, who ELSE could we possibly be talking about? Elmo Shutterspark? That doesn't mean I've been thinking about him ALL NIGHT or anything."
"Okay, well, riddle me this, Dad. If you're not thinking about Launchpad, then why are you okay with us watching Pelican's Island? Remember, that show you hate? Launchpad's not even HERE."
"But we're not..." He turned towards the TV. But sure enough, they had INDEED been watching LP's favorite, stupid show this whole time. Drake pulled at his cheek feathers in frustration.
He just wasn't yet used to this temporary change. This…betrayal! Yeah, that was it. And as a result, he was feeling a little bit cranky, so it would probably be for the best if he just turned in early tonight.
Tomorrow would be better. Maybe he and Gosalyn could go shopping or something. That would take his mind off...things.
So he clicked off the TV and made his daughter go to bed early, too, despite the inevitable fact that she would grumble even more than usual through the face washing, teeth brushing, and hair combing rituals he made her do before bed.
"I think you should just be more honest, Dad," she murmured sleepily as he tucked her in.
Drake shook his head. Sometimes the little imp would say the weirdest stuff as she drifted off. Oh well, as long as she didn't end up sleepwalking again, everything would be just fine.
He softly closed her door and walked down the hall. He made a point of not looking as he passed Launchpad's room.
On a normal night, he'd be snoring away in there. Or, sometimes, when they stayed up together, they'd be watching one of those late night talk shows downstairs. Although Drake never really listened after a while, and LP would just as often as not drift off beside him, he didn't mind just taking in the sound of his deep, even breathing.
Wait, why was he suddenly getting all nostalgic? The man snored up a storm and was a couch hog. Maybe it was a good thing LP was on a little vacay; it might give Drake some much-needed perspective. He probably did count on his sidekick too much.
Drake eyed his handsome self in his bathroom mirror as he got ready for bed. Wait, was that another wrinkle? Face mask time.
This is going to be fine, Mallard, he told himself, shivering a bit as he crawled between his cool sheets. Just, you know...peachy.