The Weblog Chronicles: April 2008

I guess it can't hurt to post some of the fic in my blog. I just had a fairly productive twenty minutes or so where I wrote approximately the same amount that I wrote in, oh, let's guess about an hour the last time I tried to write. So yay! And I'm happier with it, so double-yay! It doesn't fix what I wrote before (which I'm still not happy with) but I'm willing to gloss over that right now.

I can't figure out if you can do cut-tags here in blogspot. Doesn't look that way. Well, I'm going to paste in what I wrote since hte last bit I posted at ff.net; so if you actually read this blog you get a sneaky preview! Luckykins. ;D (Or not. I think nobody reads this. But I like having a place I can ramble to and save my rambles, so it's good enough for grampa and good enough for me.) This will be loooong... and it's still only about half the chapter... ;_;

*************

It would be so much easier if he said hello first. She slowed as she approached, hoping he would notice her and she could pretend she hadn't noticed him and act surprised when he said something, but there was no such luck. Maybe she should just keep walking...

The idea of passing someone she knew on the street, *staring* at them, and walking right by them was so stupid and embarrassing that she took a deep breath and pushed right through her shyness. "Ha- hi!" she said, catching a little on the forced peppiness of her voice.

Launchpad started, which was embarrassing and awkward, and for the first split second that he looked at her she would swear he had no idea who she was and that was even worse. She remembered immediately why she preferred never to approach anyone. But a second later, recognition lit his entire face and he gave her a broad grin. "Hey, Beth! Long time no see!"

She laughed awkwardly, all the adrenalin that had allowed her to speak up a moment ago now draining into a kind of weak nervousness. "Heh, yeah, guess so. Um, sorry if I scared you, I just was walking home and I saw you and I thought it would be nice to say something..."

"No problemo," he said casually. That was not a phrase she heard many people say, and it made her smile. "I'm glad you did say somethin', I didn't even hear ya comin' up."

"Oh. Well good."

He looked past her, up towards the roof of the building behind her, for a moment and then back down at her. "You look different outside of Bindler's," he said thoughtfully.

"I... do?" She became self-conscious suddenly; maybe it was the lighting. "In a good way or a bad way?"

Launchpad tilted his head as if considering. "I dunno. Neither really, you just look more... I dunno, more real."

She wanted to ask again if that was good or bad, but that was the kind of question that usually drove guys up the wall (or so she'd heard), so she just smiled nervously instead. As ever, the pleasure she felt in talking to Launchpad was paired with an equally strong sense of guilt; the more she spoke to him, the more she felt like she was keeping him from something else, and she should really let him go and do the things he'd rather be doing. And yet if she didn't talk to him, the guilt didn't go away, it just mutated itself so that she felt guilty for not returning his kindness; he cared enough to talk to her and keep her company, and she was trying to ditch him for some reason. Either way, apparently, Beth was a total jerk in her own mind and since there was no winning, she just stayed where she was, felt uncomfortable, and enjoyed having someone to talk to.

Just now, he straighted up and nodded a little, as though he'd reached a decision. "I think it's in a good way," he said finally. She could feel her cheeks growing hot, and she looked at her feet; as she did, she noticed that Launchpad looked distinctly satisfied with himself somehow.

"Um, thanks," she said quietly. She wondered if she was supposed to return the compliment, decided that if she did it would sound phony, and made a mental note to herself to give him a spontaneous compliment as soon as she could work one in naturally. The conversation was lagging; she fumbled for a topic. Looking back up at him, she said, "Did you guys find the bolt you were looking for?"

Launchpad had been looking at the skyline again; as he dragged his eyes back down towards her, he said, "Huh? Oh, no, it's funny... apparently you guys are the only ones in the area who carry 'em."

Beth was surprised. "Really? Wow, there must have been a recall or something. Henny gets these deals with manufacturers to unload all their leftover stock at lower prices, see," she explained. "She's, um, she's really good at negotiations."

"I bet," Launchpad said in a low voice. Whatever he was thinking, Beth guessed it wasn't flattering, and she giggled. He winked at her, before checking out the rooftops again.

"I'm sorry, is there -" Beth began to turn around and check out whatever he was looking at, continuing, "Am I keeping you from something?"

"Oh, no way!" he said quickly, and reached for her shoulder, pulling her back to look at him. She was startled enough that she whirled back, and they stared at one another for a few seconds before both smiled sheepishly. "Sorry 'bout that," he said.
"I just mean, uh, there's nothin' up there. Just... just the stars."

"Oh, you're looking at the stars?" She smiled; that was kind of romantic. Although when she looked over his head, the light pollution in St. Canard was so strong that she couldn't make out anything but streetlamps.

"Uh, kinda," he said, perhaps guessing what she was thinking. "Tryin' to, anyway." With all the speed of someone who was deliberately changing the subject, he said, "So that bolt! I think I'm gonna come in and put in a special order or somethin', if you guys think you could get any more."

"Oh, that's a good idea!" she said. An even better idea occurred to her then, an idea of the kind she rarely had: clever, subtle, and almost-but-not-quite devious. "In fact, I can put one in FOR you. But I'll do it in Mr. Mallard's name so that it'll come straight to him, since he's the one who needs the bolt."

"Hey, good thinkin'," Launchpad said, nodding.

Beth retrieved a pen and an old receipt from the pocket of her jacket, and held them at the ready. "I'll just need his phone number and full address, and I'll get this done the next time I'm at work." She looked up apologetically. "I can't get it delivered in less than five business days, though. I guess he kind of needs it sooner than that."

"Well, we'll keep lookin' around to see what comes up, but if that's the quickest we can get it, it's good enough for me." Launchpad rattled off an address and phone number, and Beth scribbled both down and shoved both paper and pen back into her pockets, feeling satisfied and even a little proud of herself. She knew that she was extremely unlikely to ever call Drake Mallard personally, but now, if she actually felt up to it, she *could*.

The fact that she'd accomplished this task lifted her spirits and made talking to Launchpad easier, somehow. "Well, I feel better now that *that's* taken care of," she said.

"That's real nice of you to keep DW in mind that way," Launchpad offered.

"Oh, you know, customers first." Emboldened by her recent success, she asked, "So, um, is Mister - Dra- Drake... Mallard... around?" That was the most awkward sentence ever spoken aloud, she thought, and wilted inside.

"Oh, Drake is, uh, he's grocery shoppin'," Launchpad answered.

"At... at ten in the evening?"

Launchpad cleared his throat. "Uh, well, we needed a few emergency things." He looked uncertain. "And I'm just out here, uh..."

"Looking at stars," she finished for him.

"Yeah. Well, no, not just that!" Looking uncertain, he said, "I'm actually... keepin' an eye on the car, too."

"Oh! Well, gosh, that's really nice of you!" She was starting to get tired, and still had a long walk ahead of her, but the chance for a possibility of seeing Drake again was so great that she had to at least consider staying. "So, is... is Mist- is he going to be coming back soon? Do you think?"

Launchpad looked just the tiniest bit lost, and it took him a moment to answer.

***

"For the last time, you single-minded simpleton, it's a *grappling hook*!" Darkwing shouted, dodging another blast of lightning. Megavolt seemed beyond listening by now, however; he wasn't even ranting about robots anymore, just taking aim with that zap-gun of his and shooting bolts in all directions.

Well, two could play at that game. Darkwing pulled out his gas gun, aimed by instinct, and fired. And only *then* remembered that it was broken, as the gun misfired and a cloud of purple gas began to leak out of the gun and surround him. He kicked it to the side, cursing everything from the gun to the bolt to that bubblehead at the hardware store who hadn't helped him at all; the gun had worked fine when he shot the grappling hook - why was there a problem now?!

Megavolt's attention was somehow ensnared by Darkwing's momentary equipment failure. "Ha! If that was supposed to be intimidating, I've gotta tell you, you need to rethink your strategy!" He giggled at that, though Darkwing didn't think it was a particularly impressive taunt.

He tried bluffing in response. "All part of a plan, Sparky, but the less you know about it, the better!"

Whether Megavolt would have bought it or not would never be known, however, since he apparently stopped paying attention at the name "Sparky". "Oooooh, YOU! *DON'T*! CALL! ME! THAT!!" The amount of power he was discharging went up considerably, and the rooftop began to look like it was housing a neon sign in the shape of an electrified rat.

Maybe the taunting hadn't been the best idea, Darkwing acknowledged as he hugged the edge of the rooftop, fleeing from Megavolt's blasts. He paused at the west side of the roof, sticking his arm over the side and waving it three times in what he hoped was as natural a way as possible. So, granted, this fight hadn't gone entirely as he'd envisioned it so far, but Darkwing was a master of improvisational fighting and this whole showdown could easily be salvaged. Darkwing would keep wearing him out, and meanwhile, Launchpad would be up here in just a few minutes to distract him and help take him down.

***

In fact, Darkwing would have been absolutely right in his expectations, if Launchpad had actually been following the plan. Instead, his sidekick's attention was increasingly focused on Beth; she kept asking stuff about Drake, and he was having more and more trouble steering the conversation away from the danger zone. Launchpad felt he was generally pretty good at not giving away anything important when it came to secret identities or that kind of thing, but Beth kept asking so *many* questions that he was having a little trouble coming up with answers.

"What department?" she asked, cocking her head. She looked so *intent*; he was so fascinated by how different she was from when she was at work, how much more *alive* she seemed, that he forgot to answer. "Launchpad? What department does Mr. Mallard work in?"

"Huh?" Shoot, another tough question.

"In his social work. Do you guys both work in the same department?"

"Oh, uh..." He coughed as a way to stall. "It's, work with, uh, whattaya call it. Troubled teens."

"Social outreach kind of thing?" Launchpad nodded; Beth's eyes were practically shining. "That's so noble!"

"Yeah," said Launchpad. "And, yeah, I work with him. For him, kinda." She didn't seem to notice; he felt the tiniest touch of disappointment at that, but decided that he needed to change the subject completely before she asked something even harder. "So... do you go out a lot?"

"Go out?" She seemed taken aback; her energy level fell noticeably. "You mean like, with... with other people?"

"Yeah," he said, surprised that he'd taken the conversation that way. Sure, he'd mentioned to DW that he'd been playing with the idea of asking her out, but he hadn't given it any thought beyond that. "Out, with people."

She gave a quick, odd laugh. "Um, no, generally speaking no I don't."

"Really? You're kiddin' me," he said, grinning. She got all fidgety and looked at her feet, rubbing her cheek a little and grinning a little, herself. "Well, maybe sometime I could -"

"You probably do a lot though, huh?" she said quickly, cutting him off.

He considered the question for a moment. "Well, kinda... Not as much as I used to, but I was thinkin' of-"

"What about Mr. Mallard?" she asked, interrupting him again. "Does he go out on a lot of dates, or... well, he's probably got a wife and everything, actually, right?"

"Who, DW? Nah, he's not married. Nothin' like that." The question had given him pause; how had they ended up on the subject of Drake *again*? It wasn't until Beth's eyes lit up as she answered that he began to understand.

"Oh... he's not married?" she said. Her voice was eager; there was no mistaking it.

So she had a thing for DW. Launchpad needed to just take a little moment to process that; he really hadn't seen that coming. It wasn't like it *mattered* - he didn't have his eye on her that way or anything, it was just...

Well, what was it? He wasn't sure. His interest in Beth was purely platonic, as cute as she was capable of being. She wasn't the type of girl he generally went after, but he liked flirting with her; he liked being the guy to make her smile, since he had a feeling there weren't many guys who took the time to do it. And he really *did* like her, anyway, but that didn't have anything to do with whether or not she was interested in DW.

He was losing his touch, that was it. It wasn't that Launchpad had ever thought of himself as a real ladies' man or anything, exactly, but he'd never had any problems lining up dates either. With most girls, they at least knew when he was flirting with them; Beth was the first one who seemed genuinely ignorant of it. And it wasn't that he wanted to string her along, but he was surprised to find that they weren't on the same page here after all. Now that he thought about it, it *had* been a while since he'd been out with a girl, even casually... There'd been lots of girls when he was younger, in Duckburg, but most of the ones he'd really liked he'd had to leave behind. Then things had started to move more quickly - he'd moved to St. Canard, taken up odd jobs, started working with DW, and dating just hadn't been a priority. It took a lot of energy, it seemed, and there weren't usually more than two or three dates, and then either he or the girl lost interest; lots of misunderstandings, or just boredom.

Beth was kind of an experiment, and also kind of an attempt to ease himself back into it; go out a few times with a friend, remember how you do it, then start working into meeting new girls and seeing what happens. And it was way better to go out with a friend you knew you liked being with than it was to just pick someone at random, right?

Except now that he thought about it, asking Beth out under those circumstances, flirting with her every time he saw her... it all felt a little dishonest. He felt like a heel. Better not to ask her out in case she took it the wrong way... He was probably lucky he hadn't already set that situation up, by mistake.

"Oh, gosh, what time is it?" Beth asked suddenly. Launchpad checked his watch - it was quarter to eleven - then showed it to her. "WOW, is it really that late? I'm sorry to keep you - I should have -"

"Hey, I'm the one who's waitin' here, remember?" he interrupted, chuckling. "Calm down. It's more like I'm the one keepin' you."

She half-smiled. "It's not like that at all," she said; it was hard to tell if she was talking to him, or to herself, but she relaxed a little. "Well, I should go. I'm starving, and I have a long walk ahead of me."

Something in that sentence made him uneasy, but Launchpad tried not to show it. "Then go get somethin' to eat, an' I'll see ya later. Thanks for sayin' hi."

"Thanks for... answering," she said feebly. Her smile was distinctly nervous now, and she started past him down the sidewalk. "I'll see you. Um, probably. Right?"

"Yeah," he said, a little distractedly. It hit him belatedly what was bothering him about what she'd said. A long walk home... "How long is long?" he asked as she was walking away.

"What?" She turned back to him, and when he repeated the question, she blinked and then understood. "Oh - home? Um, about twenty minutes. So it's really not that bad, I'm just hungry, and you know how it is when you really want to *be* somewhere, right?"

"Yeah, but..." The direction she was headed in one a bad one. Launchpad had a pretty good sense of the better and worse parts of the city, and another half mile or so that way was definitely one of the worse. "Are you - you're just gonna walk?"

Beth cocked her head. "Well, yeah." She caught on a moment later, and fished through her handbag. "Oh! Oh, it's okay. I walk home all the time. I-" She paused, rummaging, then came up with a little spray can. "I have pepper spray." It had taken her a long time to find it, tucked away in her handbag. Her incredibly conspicuous handbag.

Launchpad had a sudden, vivid mental picture of Beth getting mugged. It was a horrible picture. His stomach twisted a little. "Look, I'm gonna..." He stopped. What was he going to do? Walk her home? That wasn't an option right now. With that thought as a trigger to remind him, he looked up briefly at the rooftop, then back down to Beth. He could *not* let this woman walk home alone.

She was watching him quizzically. A moment later the proverbial lightbulb went off over his head, and he dug into his pocket. "Okay. I think I got enough for a cab."

Beth came rushing back towards him, shaking her head and her hands. "Oh no, oh gosh, no no no. Please don't."

"Yeah. I'm insistin'."

"No! I can't take-" He stopped her, and forced the money into her hands. She held onto it but frowned. "I-I can afford a cab myself," she said quietly.

"Okay. Then you can pay me back later." She started to argue again, and he cut her off. "C'mon. Do me a favour, Beth." He grinned, what he hoped was appealingly, and she softened. A huge weight lifted off his chest when she nodded her consent. "Great. No rush on payin' me back, either. I'll see ya real soon."

Beth dropped her hands, cupping the money he'd just given her, and gave that half-smile again. "I'll have the money for you then." She took a step backwards, turned to go, and then turned back. "Um... Thanks."

"No problemo!"

She turned again, took two more steps, and then turned back beseechingly. "Tell Mr. Mallard 'hi' for me?"

Launchpad smiled and nodded, and what he felt was oddly melancholy. "Will do." Beth waved, and he waved back, and then she was halfway down the block, and then she had turned a corner.

He did wish he could have walked her home. But he was technically on the job, and there was DW's plan to consider... His eyes widened. "Uh-oh." Launchpad turned his head up to the rooftop, in time to see Darkwing hanging half over the edge, waving both arms frantically.

"LAUNCHPAAAAD!" he yelled. Then he disappeared - apparently pulled backwards - and there was quite a lot of light.

"*Uh-oh,*" Launchpad repeated, and raced across the street.

The Weblog Chronicles

Monday, April 21, 2008

:D

Monday, April 14, 2008

Why not post here?

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Whiiiine. I hate writer's block. :P

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