Chapter Text
Drake sat on the couch, flicking through the channels on the TV screen. Nothing had caught his attention for more than ten minutes at a time. But that was less about there being nothing to watch and more about his lack of interest in anything happening on screen. He'd assumed that anything would be a good enough distraction until he was forced to leave. But his mind had wandered the entire two hours he'd been on the couch. Drake looked over at the clock, which showed it was 5:28 pm, and turned the TV off. He still couldn’t believe Fenton had managed to get him to come to that stupid charade…
*One Week Ago*
“What do you mean, ‘Super Hero Date Auction’,” Drake had asked that night on patrol when Fenton had told him. Fenton, still in the Gizmoduck Armor, turned around to face him.
“You heard me. A week from now, Scrooge will be hosting a small auction to have a chance to date one of St. Canard’s many heroes. All the money is going to some sort of charity for ‘the good of humanity’.” Fenton shrugged, “Whatever that means.”
Drake picked up a loose piece of gravel from the rooftop and tossed it into the street. “Well count me out. The last thing I want to do is go on some date with a random girl who’ll be too judgy. Who the hell is going to want to pay money for this?” Drake gestured at himself. His face was a combination of dirt specks and ruffled feathers, the bags under his eyes looking like they reached halfway down his face. His chest and belly flab were now much more noticeable from eating all of the recent sweets Binkie had made for him, though he would never admit to her that he liked them, that was all on Gosalyn. Drake also feared that no one would like his hero persona after getting to talk to him for more than ten minutes. Hell, even he found it tiring to keep it up in front of civilians. “I am the last person someone’s gonna wanna go out with Fenton.”
“Oh relax!” Fenton slapped Drake’s back, nearly knocking him off the rooftop’s edge. “I’m sure you’ll find someone who’s into that sort of thing. Y'know, I’ve heard around that dad bods are trending as the new hottest type of body. And...." Fenton paused to find something else to say. "... And you’re only required to go on one date. After that, you can do whatever you like. No more obligations,” Fenton said, trying his best to sell Drake the idea.
Drake sat silently, pondering the idea of having to go on a date. He'd been on a few late-night flings with whatever cute girl he found at the bar, and sometimes if he was lucky they would take an interest in him for a week or two. But those relationships were more touch and go. The last time he'd been on an actual date was when he'd been dating Morgana, which he realized was over a year ago now. Drake tensed up at the thought of her. He couldn't keep avoiding things because of the mistakes he'd made with her. But did that mean going out with some random stranger? Drake gripped the rooftop edge tightly and bit his tongue, “...Fine! I’ll do the stupid auction. Happy now?”
*Present Day*
Drake snuck into his room and pulled an emergency Darkwing Duck costume out of drawer, stuffing it into a duffel bag. He hadn’t told Launchpad or Gosalyn about the auction yet and he didn’t plan on telling them ever. The last thing he wanted was the two of them spying on him and messing up the date more than he already would. That, and them knowing what he was up to would be a serious blow to his ego. Drake tossed the duffel bag on the couch, and walked up the stairs before stopping at Gosalyn's room and knocking on the door. “Come in,” said Gosalyn’s disinterested voice.
Drake opened the door to see Gosalyn reading one of her comic books on the bed. “Gosalyn, I'm heading out for a few hours now. Launchpad should be over soon, so make sure you’re listening for the doorbell. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone either.”
“Yeah yeah, love ya Dad. Have fun. Just make sure to pick up some milk from the store, we're all out,” Gosalyn said back, her eyes still fixated on the comic.
Drake smiled. “Love ya too Gos.”
Drake made his way back downstairs and grabbed the duffel bag, throwing it over his shoulders. He took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping outside, when his face collided with Launchpad’s chest and caused him to fall over.
“Woah there DW. Better watch where you’re goin’.” Launchpad stuck out his hand and Drake reluctantly grabbed it, mumbling to himself about how he wasn’t the giant barrel-chested lug who had no concept of personal space standing in his doorway.
“What are you doing here so early,” Drake asked. “I thought you were busy with that ‘special project’ you’ve been working on. Speaking of, you ever gonna tell me what it is you’ve been working on? You’re not usually one to keep secrets from me.”
Launchpad avoided Drake’s gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well DW, I’ve uh… It's just something a bit more personal than what I’m used to talking about. Besides, you’ll see it soon, once I give it to ya...” Launchpad’s voice trailed off as if he had suddenly gotten lost in thought.
Drake raised an eyebrow at the last part of what Launchpad said. “What do you mean, give it to me,” he asked.
Launchpad looked surprised. “Did I say give it to ya? That’s just the name of a friend of mine. Real nice gal, not much of talker, but still nice” Launchpad said, trying to hide how flustered he was. Drake crossed his arms and sighed.
Launchpad and Drake stood quietly for what felt like an eternity before Launchpad began again. “So… are you going on patrol tonight? I thought you said you were just going shopping for a few hours.”
“I am,” Drake said, pushing past Launchpad and making his way towards the car. The longer he stayed here, the less time he had to swing by Darkwing Tower and grab the Ratcatcher. The last thing he needed was to show up to the auction in Drake Mallard's car.
“Then what do you need that for?” Launchpad pointed at the duffel bag Drake was carrying, where a sleeve of the Darkwing Duck costume stuck out. Drake quickly shoved it back into the bag and made sure to zip up so it wouldn’t fall out again. “Well, just in case I run into Megavolt trying to steal some lightbulbs from the grocery store again. Look Launchpad I really should get going so if you would please-”
Drake was cut off by Launchpad, who had suddenly wrapped his arms around him in a tight, but soft hug. The sudden close physical contact startled Drake, but at the same time he never really minded a hug from Launchpad. They were somehow always the right amount of tightness, never as breathtaking as a bear hug but not as awkward as a hug he would give to someone he’d never met before. Launchpad’s warmth made Drake feel like he was wrapped in the biggest, softest blanket that was always the right temperature. Drake swore he never felt safer than when he was in Launchpad’s grasp, a fact that he’d never say out loud for the sake of his pride. At that moment, he wanted to collapse into the hug and stay there, unmoving. But Drake quickly pushed himself out of Launchpad’s grasp. “Sorry Launchpad, I really should be leaving.”
Drake tossed the duffel bag into the back seat and started up the car, trying his best to not look back at Launchpad, knowing he was probably doing one of his signature sad puppy dog faces. Drake sighed. As soon as the auction and date were over, he’d give Launchpad an apology. Probably.
Drake parked the Ratcatcher in the alley next to the auction house. He'd never bothered paying too much attention to the building when he was on patrol, but now he couldn’t help but marvel at the impressive presence the building gave off with its lights on. It was by far the brightest building on the block.
He adjusted his hat and mask to make sure they were on tightly. Drake looked at his reflection in one of the building’s many windows. He looked himself up and down one more time, trying to spot any imperfections in his suit. Drake sighed, tipping the brim of his hat forward to hide his face. “Time to get this shit over with.”