A/N: Based on OG Ducktales S 1 EP 56. Sorry this so late! You would not believe the trouble it gave me. Also advanced apologies for the turn the next couple of chapters take. Can't say if it is for better or worse!
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It was now the middle of the night, and I had gotten no sleep. Lots of things about yesterday still bugged me. I couldn't take it. I inched to the edge of the bed and pulled out the Time Turner from my backpack that I had disregarded on the floor yesterday.
I thought the design was made so only I could use the time machine. That would make most since seeing as how people in this family went rogue all the time. I turned it over in my hand. I looked at Scrooge, who was still sleeping behind me. I knew we agreed: no time travel, but he wouldn't know if I took it for a test run.
Besides, even if he did, he was the one that pushed me to take Webby to the past yesterday. He couldn't blame me for checking it. It would be quick, in and out; no adventure; no messes; and I wouldn't even look for younger Scrooge.
I grabbed my bag and ran to the bathroom. I changed and grabbed the device. Suddenly, I was in a restaurant. The booth was vibrant yellow, and the table was covered in a white tablecloth. A bowl of bread, plates and champagne glass with orange juice sat on the table and a menu blocking someone's face. It read Con Vịt, and I looked around the room. It was the twenties I guessed from the clothes and decor, high end as it all seemed to be.
The menu fell to the table. I tried not to panic. I was face to face with a younger Scrooge. Future Scrooge was still asleep. He wouldn't know I wasn't supposed to be here if I didn't let on. He wouldn't know.
"Shit." My volume got some looks from other patrons and I avoid eye contact with them and Scrooge.
(Great job.)
"Good morning to you too, Love," he said slightly offended. I straightened myself.
"Sudden stop. Are you meeting someone?" I asked, offering more explanation.
"Not particularly." He picked up his drink and I could smell the liquor even from across the table.
"Are you drinking?" I asked, and he hummed.
"The sell of alcohol is illegal, Love," he smirked, not answer the question.
"Prohibition? Seriously? Makes sense, I guess. Should end soon," I rambled.
"Well, the laws have changed so many times in the past ten years hardly anyone pays attention anymore," he shrugged, tilling the glass towards me. I shook my head and he took another sip. "It's called a Mamosa. A little sweet for my taste."
"So why the fancy restaurant?" I asked, looking around.
"Business tactic." He sat the drink down. "I figured if I want rich clients. I needed to fit into rich society."
"By drinking for breakfast?"
"It helps," he laughed. Before I could ask, he added, "Consumption of alcohol is not illegal. Though I believe this is called brunch. Preposterous really. It's just another reason to eat without feeling guilty."
"Well, if this you practicing small talk, then you're failing. Most people don't like to be insulted for their ideas." He shrugged and drank his drink.
"Ma'am," a server approached us, "there is a dress code."
A few people were watching us. They made sour faces at me and grumbled. Scrooge furrow his eyebrows and I spoke before he could.
"If I didn't pass the dress code, why did you let me in?" He didn't know how to respond to that. He floundered until Scrooge spoke up.
"She's with me," Scrooge waved him off.
"Yes, well, I apologize. My mistake." He backed away.
The other people eating huffed and went back to their business. Scrooge laughed.
"He was just doing his job, Love."
"He was doing those snobs dirty work. That's the kind of people you want to attract," I asked, picking up a piece of bread. "You don't have to expose yourself to them to have good clients."
"It's good for business." He sounded hesitate but didn't add anything else. I stared at him.
"If you say soThe Association of Status Seekers' party this evening," I shrugged and played with a breadstick.
"When did you come from?" I looked at him. "You looked cornered when you saw me, and you seem distracted."
"I couldn't sleep and I thought it was broken, so I was doing a quick test." I held the Time Turner up before stuffing it in my bag.
"Why do you think that?"
"I'm the only one that can use it, but someone else did." He went to question me but was interrupted.
"Ah! McDuck, there you are! I thought it was you," said a dog wearing a dark blue suit with a lapel pin made from a black gem the size of a baby's fist. "I was hoping to get an invitation to The Association of Status' party this evening." He looked at me. "There will be a dress code, right?"
"Black tie as usual, but what is your addition to the Association?" Scrooge asked, not catching the insulting tone or glances the man was giving.
"Why my collection of cars gems?" He taped his lapel pin, then his showed his matching cufflinks. "I have a pair for every suit. Not to mention I just bought my tenth Rolls Canardly."
"I'll see if there's room on the list," Scrooge nodded, not impressed.
"Thank you, sir." The man bowed, gritted his teeth, and left.
"The Association of Status Seekers?" I asked once the man walked away.
"They practically beg me to be the president when they found out I owned the Mask of Couthoolulu. Apparently, rich people appreciate ugly things. Who knew?" he chuckled to himself.
"I think you're missing the point."
"That's what I thought at first, but I've come to the conclusion that being able to afford the best and only buying the worst is the trick to impressing them."
"Then you only have ugly things."
He frowned. The server brought his food and there wasn't more talk after that. We walked to the limo outside.
"Duckworth!" Scrooge called. The man opened the passenger door. "To the Bin."
"With the lady, sir?" he asked, confused why his boss had left with a date. I realized Duckworth didn't know who I was.
"I need a dress for tonight," I told Scrooge.
"Of course, Love. Whatever she needs, Duckworth," he said, getting in the car.
Duckworth's eyes narrowed. Good to know this was unusual. We dropped Scrooge off and Duckworth looked at me through the partition.
"Where to, ma'am?"
"The manors fine."
He took off and eyed me in the mirror. We didn't speak, though. He let me out.
"Would you like a tour of," I cut him off.
"I know my way around."
I bolted upstairs. With several hours to kill before the torturous engagement and I was intent on raiding the place. I wanted to know more about his family. His siblings and their potential kids. The paintings didn't help. Even if I knew who they were, I couldn't get information out of them. I went through Scrooge's desk. There were trinkets from adventures and emergency totems stashed in the drawers. There was an old photo of us from the opening of the Bin, but nothing else of value. I went to the bedroom and there wasn't anything in there either. No journals or letters or papers. There was nothing. I collapsed in a chair in the hall.
"Did you find what you needed in your raid, or are you in need of assistance?" Duckworth appeared out of nowhere.
"I'm good," I said, without flinching.
He hummed to himself, "Most people jump when I do that."
"I'm not most people." I had gotten used to the sudden appearance of him as a ghost, and this was no different. "How long have you worked for Scrooge?"
"A little over a year now." I hummed. Maybe he could help. He kept on while I thought it over. "That's why I think it's strange that Mr. McDuck has given you full autonomy here."
"Ah, so I'm suspicious because Scrooge doesn't find me suspicious. Got it."
"Ever since he has started hanging out with those folks from the Association of Status Seekers, he has forgotten he has real enemies and can't let their harlots roam around his home willy nilly," he growled.
"Harlots? With an 's'? As in more than me?" I raised an eyebrow. Earlier, this seemed like a new situation, now I was one of many.
"I'm not at liberty to discuss my boss's private affairs." He smirked.
(Oh, he's trying to start shit. Got it.)
"Well, I'm not from the Association or a harlot."
"Then who are you?" He crossed his arms.
"A pain in your ass," I smiled. He growled.
"We'll if you don't want to be late, I suggest you get dressed." He stomped off.
I made my way to my room. There was only one dress in the room. My golden one from the house of luck. I should pass dress code it that. Duckworth met me at the front door.
"Where did you get that?" he asked.
"My room," I said, getting in the limo.
He seemed pissed. Like I shouldn't have this much sway in his life. The ride was familiar but seemed longer because LP's chatter was replaced by death stares from Duckworth. I jumped out and ran up the stairs of the Bin as soon as the car reached a stop. The reception pointed me towards the elevator.
The doors opened and people glittered ridiculous from jewelry, dresses, and even some people's skin. I noticed the endless line of servers with drinks along the wall. A few people were already clearly drunk. It was easy to tell this was clearly an excuse to drink. I spotted Scrooge and beeline for him.
"You look swell, Love." Scrooge linked our arms. "The dress doesn't look bad either."
"Are you trying to butter me up so I ignore," I motioned around the room to a couple of drunks.
"Is it working?" He sounded nervous.
(Why was he nervous?)
"Maybe but you do that by yourself." He blushed. Okay maybe he was drunk already too. "What's on the itinerary for the evening?"
"Well, we are having dinner by Joseph E. Gaggle, then an auction for The Pink Ficasso." Before I could respond, a man approached us. A very drunk woman clung to him.
"Mr. McDuck, who's this?" The man smiled.
"This is my beloved ____. ____ this is the Duke of Whales and Ms. Columbidae."
"Pleasure, I'm sure." I nodded with my "it's really not" smile plastered on my face.
"Nice to meet you. What is your entrée to the club?" She asked.
"____ is here as my guest tonight," Scrooge informed her. She made a bitter face.
"Well, I hope you enjoy," the Duke's eyebrow twitched and took the grimacing woman away.
The night spiraled into carbon copies of the same conversation and judgmental looks. Scrooge grabbed a drink from every server that walked by. He couldn't keep still or stop talking. He explained how everyone was allowed membership into the club. Jewelry, gems, and art were the big three. Every time we walked away, the whispers started behind us.
"Scrooge," I said as we moved from the lady with a necklace in a wheelbarrow. "Something feels off here?"
"What do you mean?" he asked. He nearly spilt his drink. Before I could go on, a man in a purple suit interrupted us.
"Mr. McDuck!" He nearly spun. "My goodness, she's lovely. Can I have a dance?"
"This is ____, Mr. Pinscher." Scrooge introduced us. "I'm sure she would love a break from me talking her ears off."
Before I could respond he grabbed my arm. I sent Scrooge an "you'll pay" look as the man led me to a dance floor.
"No wonder you're Mr. McDuck's squeeze. The most stunning kitten in the room. Truly a sign of status." He smiled, pulling my into the starting position. The music started and we started dancing.
"Is that what everyone here thinks, Mr. Pinscher?" I asked, annoyed. The music speed up and we spun across the floor. I could feel everyone eyes on us.
"Not at all. I'm assure there are some other thoughts." His hands lowered.
"I assure you I'm more than an easy on the eyes." I stomped on his foot. He stumbled. "Sorry. Two left feet."
"Of course." He straightened, moving his hand back up. He cleared his throat and attempted to change the topic. "What's your contribution to The Seekers?"
"I thought it was my looks," I spat. He gave a small uncomfortable laugh and shifted again. "What about you?"
"Beside the obvious," he motioned to his suit, "white lightning."
"Is that whiskey?" I blink and nearly tripped, but he caught me.
"Oh. Mr. McDuck, hasn't explained it to you yet?" He stop and the couple next us bumped into us.
"Clearly not." I shook my head. He recoiled like he had said to much. I prompted him, "Well."
"Well," he continued the dance and dipped me and used as an excuse to whisper in my ear, "most of us use it as a cover for our smuggling operations. How else could we afford such symbols of status?"
I gritted my teeth as we spun with the music. "What's Scrooge's contribution?"
"He lets us store in his network of tunnels that runs from his joint and under most of the town."
The song ended, and I stepped away. Scrooge found me and wrapped an arm around my waist.
"It's been informative, Mr. Pinscher."
He tipped his hat and ran off. Scrooge slowly let me into a room they had set up for dinner.
"So you're a bootlegger now?"
"Not quite, Love." He let out a small chuckle and attempted to shush me. "I don't produce or move anything. I just provided storage space."
"Is that what you're going to tell the cops?" I scoffed. This was wreckless.
"If they care enough to ask. Though it wouldn't be the first time I've been arrested. Not yours either if memory serves." That got some looks.
"Is it worth the risk?" I asked, stopping us in the middle of the crowd.
"It profitable." He gave a cheesy smirk, and I eyed him. "I've done worse for less, Love."
"I wouldn't announce that," I said, taking his drink and put it on a pasting server's tray.
"Love, they can't hurt me without hurting themselves at this point. Therefore I have the safest position in The Association." He grabbed the drink back off the tray as they passed.
"Just be safe." He pulled me towards our seats.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," he laughed as we sat at the table.
I tried not to share my waning interest but the sleep depravity was starting to get to me. Classical music could barely be heard over the clashing voices of irritating and entitled loudmouths. I made it through dinner but made a break for Scrooge's office as the auction started.
I sat in a chair and contemplated what I should do. I needed to head back. Everyone here, albeit drunk, had a stick up their ass. I was tired, and stayed longer than I intended anyway. I had found nothing helpful in figuring out the Webby predicament, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. Not with at least saying goodbye. I would've stayed but who knows how much longer this, well essentially, speakeasy was going to stay open.
"What's the matter?" Scrooge scared me as he walked in. More like stumbled in.
"Not my crowd."
"I've seen you handled drunk ingratiates gracefully before. Why is this different?" He made his way to his desk.
"I've got a lot on my mind."
"Then take this time to relax, Love!" He opened his desk and pulled out a black bottle of champagne, Grand Siecle.
He poured both of us a glass. I picked it up. I stared at the golden liquid. He rounded the desk and sat on the armrest of my chair.
"How many drinks have you had?" I asked. I had never seen him drink this much before.
"A bit more than I planned but it's alright. I'm more concerned with you, Love. Why are you still here? Not that I'm complaining but you seem over this party." I shook my head at the glass. Of course, he noticed something was off even if he was tipsy. He chuckled. "Did we get into a fight?"
"Not this time." He made a surprised noise and choked on his drink. "I'm joking."
"Then what is it?"
"Does it matter?" He narrowed his eyes. After a second of challenging it, I conceded and leaned in to him. "I just found out some big news."
"And you're upset?" he slured slightly.
"No, but it's complicated," I buried my head in him.
"And you can't talk to future me about this because?" he waited.
"I don't know how you'll react. It's not bad just I don't understand completely. I don't want to drag you into it until I know more." He put a hand under my chin so I had to look at him.
"Love, you don't have to know everything before you tell me. I'll help you figure it out," he slurred.
"You can't make a coherent sentence," I laughed.
"You know what I mean." He paused like he was thinking something over then down his drink. "I know what will make you feel better."
He pulled me to my feet then stumbled down the bridge of the vault, dragging me behind him. Standing here, I could clearly see the amount he spent on Della for the first time. I could practically reach out and grab a handful of gold coins from the platform. The first time I had been in here there was a place that the gold didn't complete cover the bottom. I frowned at the thought.
"Why don't you take something? When you're feeling overwhelmed, you can look at it know you can always talk to me." He was drunker than I originally thought.
"I don't think so, Loverboy." I grabbed his arm. "You need to sit down and drink some water."
"I'm not drunk, Love." He smiled, taking my hand.
"Not convinced," I hummed.
"Come on, one thing." He led me down the platform a little more and despite the width, I thought he might fall and so I held his hand tight. "Besides, you've helped me get over half this stuff."
"You just referred to your gold as stuff. Your clearly wasted." I turned to him and poked him in the chest.
"You're the only thing in here I truly care about." He spun me towards the glittering room.
The gold was eye level. It was beautiful. To remove one would be a mistake not just because I couldn't take any of his gold but because it would ruin the beauty. I shook my head.
"That maybe true, or you might be a shapeshifter, but I'm still going to decline."
He scoffed to himself and something cold slide on my ring finger. "I knew you'd refuse, so I picked for you."
I lifted my hand and stared at the sparkling band on my finger. It was gold with the continents thinly etched, so they swirled around my finger and a single diamond over Calisota. The room stilled and a sudden chill swept through the building.
"Of course, ya are free to choose something else," he said after I didn't respond.
I jumped at him and shoved both of us over the edge. We landed on the coins, which chattered in protest.
"Never! I would never choose anything else." I wanted to cry.
"Is that a yes?" he chuckled.
"Was there a question?" I teased. I pulled away enough to see how fluster that made him. "Of course."
With that, I kissed him. More coins clattered and distance voice echoed from upstairs, but it didn't matter. He threaded a hand through my hair. I rolled onto the cool treasure. He kissed down the line of my jaw and the dress's neckline felt like it was deeping for him. He chuckled and pulled up to look at me.
"I have all the paperwork upstairs to make it official. The Duke could even officiate if you want," he chuckled.
"Official?" I asked. It was off-putting. My brain was short circuiting.
"I've been thinking about it a long time," he beamed.
He kissed me again. My mind raced. It made sense he didn't know when he would see me again to talk about it. I tighten my grip on him and he did the same. If I signed the forms, then we would be married, something I never thought he would want. I kissed him back hard. I could change my last name. He pressed me deeper into the coins. The kids really would be nieces and nephews. Our legs intertwined together. Gladstone might stop flirting with me. Scrooge's hands slid into the slit in my dress and up my thigh. Goldie would be pissed. I pulled off his jacket and threw it across the room. FOWL would find out.
A mound of treasure next to us fell, smothering us. Bradford would us against us. I froze. I couldn't let them find out. Scrooge didn't seem to notice my hesitation. There was also the Webby thing to deal with. Between him, the coins, and the info suddenly hard to breathe, and this was the opposite effect of relaxing now.
"Scrooge," I managed when he pulled away for air, which I needed more desperately than he did.
"Yes," he kissed my shoulder.
"Scrooge, I," I couldn't speak. I pushed him slightly. "We can't."
He sat up, and the coins moved around us. I pulled myself to the top of the gold.
"What?" He pulled away. His brain was still in full physical mode. "Why not?"
"There's people that will use this against us." I could see the gears slowly flickering away from what we had been doing and towards the proposal. I had to talk now before he has enough brain power to protest. "Physical evidence only puts you and our family at risk. It only matters how we feel and what we know."
I pulled the ring off and extended it to him. He processed everything I just said.
"Who would use it against us?"
"FOWL, Magica, Goldie, your nephews, even your friends upstairs," I shook my head. "It's too risky."
"____, no need to fear them. That's no one we haven't handled before." He pushed the ring back into my hand. "We will be strong together."
"You're not looking at this long term. It effects everything. Your business, the family, our friends, and not to mention the timeline."
"I understand and have excepted the ramifications. I understand you may need to think it through, Love. It's just," he shifted. "You make me a better man, and I want you to know that."
"That's the second time this week you've told me that." I looked at the ring. How could I tell him no?
"It's true and I should tell you more often." He had a faraway look, like he was remembering something.
He looked heartbroken. I pulled him into a hug. I don't know how long it last but Duckworth's voice was the only thing that made us move.
"Sir, your guests are requesting you."
Irritation flashed across his face. He had been drink all night... no nervous all night because he knew there was possible of me turning him down. Due to what? The time line? Our enemies? We would live. We always did.
"I'll finish up here. You should get back home," he sighed. I slipped the ring on.
"You're my home." He took my hand and ran his thump over the ring. They asked an unspoken question. "I'll be careful."
He kissed me. Then he headed for the ladder. I watch him leave. Once he was out of sight I snapped my fingers, and I was in pajamas again and had my backpack. I could get use to this magic stuff. My golden dress was presumably back in the manor. Hopefully not hung up and somewhere very inconvenient for Duckworth. I pulled out the Time Turner and reappeared in Scrooge's bedroom seconds after I had left. I crawled back into bed with him. My eyes darted between the ring and his face until I couldn't hold them open anymore.
Word Count: 4135