Disclaimer: Characters used from the show (namely J. Gander) are © The Walt Disney Company. I am in no way making a profit off of this story. I can only hope viewers have as much fun reading it as I am having writing it!

Jacob Mallard, Sergeant Pondrains, Nelson, and any other non-canon characters are © me, Amanda Rohrssen. Use of these characters without my permission is strongly ill-advised. Also, it's just plain mean to steal other people's characters, m'kay?

I would also like to express my thanks to Tammy Wraight for her help in creating my character, Jacob.

Also, as a bit of an explanation to those of you who are reading Bloody-Ban's story, Jacob is her character Jake's counterpart. While Jake is Negaduck's father and lives in the Negaverse, Jacob is Darkwing's father and lives in the Normalverse. The stories are meant to be similar, but they are not exactly the same. So I don't want any flames concerning that, please. Thank you and enjoy!

"What the...?" he muttered, pouring over a mound of paperwork that sat precariously on the edge of his desk in the laboratory. "How am I supposed to know THAT? Stupid paperwork..." He tossed his pencil carelessly at the tabletop, watching it bounce twice then roll over the edge and onto the floor. With a frustrated grunt he rolled his eyes, folded his arms, and leaned back in the stiff wooden chair with a knitted brow.

Rapidly losing any motivation he'd had to finish his work, Jacob Mallard looked around the laboratory for anything interesting to do. When he saw nothing he heaved a heavy sigh and picked up the next piece of paperwork and stared at it, all of the words beginning to run together. He shook his head rapidly, trying to re-focus, but he soon forwent that idea and ended up making a paper airplane out of it instead of filing it out.

Just as he'd been about to bomb an enemy base (a pile of rubber bands) with paperclips, someone knocked on the laboratory door. Quickly Jacob shoved his makeshift battle scene into a nearby garbage can and picked up his pencil, trying desperately to look like he'd been working diligently on his paperwork.

The door opened.

"I thought you were in here, Jacob."

He sighed in relief and turned in his chair, leaning an arm on the back of it. "Oh good, John, it's you. I thought maybe it was Agent Puke-for-Brains again."

"Oh? Is he riding your back again?"

"Like a monkey, John." Jacob rolled his eyes. "So what's up?" He propped his feet up on the desk.

"Well, for one thing, we're late for training."

"Whaddaya mean?" The mallard looked at his watch. "It's only - GAH!" Like a gunshot Jacob was out of his chair and running down the hall with John at his heels. "He'd better not make us do doubles!" he shouted back.

"I wouldn't put it past him," John gasped back. He had never been a very good runner.

"Come on, John! At this rate he'll be making you do The Wall for twenty minutes after drill!" Jacob stopped to grab his friend by the wrist and make him hurry up so that their punishment might somehow be less severe the fewer minutes they were late.

The Wall was a giant fifty foot wall with miniscule footholds littering its face. There was no rope, no safety net. If a trainee fell, it was into a sandpit. It was the part of the obstacle course that terrified John Gander Hooter the most.

With a thunderous clang Jacob barrelled into the gigantic gymnasium that was half outside and half inside. J. Gander wasn't too far behind.

"So," barked the drill sergeant, Agent Pondrains, "finally decided to join us, eh boys? That's ten demerits from each of your records." He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and shook his head in mock-disappointment. "And don't think you're not going to be doing extra laps after today's work-out either!"

Jacob groaned and rolled his eyes. He hated staying after drill, he liked being on a tight schedule! This was going to throw off the rest of his plans for the day! Even if he had yet to make any.

Both avians got into line, straightening their backs, puffing out their chests, and staring straight ahead, and waited for instructions. A burly canine next to Jacob leaned over slightly and whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Late again?"

"I was busy," Jacob shrugged.

"At this rate you're going to be the most in-shape agent at SHUSH!" the bulldog replied with a quiet chuckle.

"What do you mean?" he shot back with the flash of an impish smile. "I AM the most in-shape agent at SHUSH!"

"Nelson! Mallard! Shut your traps or I'll have you doing janitorial work so fast you won't even know the difference!" Agent Pondrains shouted in an unnecessarily loud voice.

Jacob smirked and retorted lowly, "Oh no, anything but that! It's so terrible to do for a few hours what hundreds of people have to do every day!"

"That's it, Mallard! You just bought yourself clean-up duty after those laps you owe me!" Agent Pondrains' snout was just inches away from Jacob's beak, his hot, putrid breath invading the trainee's nostrils. It was all Jacob to do to keep from gagging.

"Yes, sir," he replied, gritting his teeth.

An hour and a half later, Jacob was on his last lap before he was supposed to begin custodial work. He had lapped J. Gander at least five times. As he approached him from behind yet again, he slowed his pace to match that of his short-legged friend.

"How many you got left, John?" Jacob asked, still far from running short of breath.

J. Gander, however, was heaving and gasping, droplets of sweat pouring down his drenched face. He managed to hold up three fingers, a hopelessly exhausted expression on his face.

"Come on, ladies! Pick up the pace!" boomed Agent Pondrains, whose curly pig tail when straight each time he shouted.

"Don't bend your arms so much," Jacob instructed, beginning to run backwards so he could better converse with J. Gander. "Just relax everything except your legs and concentrate on your breathing."

The goose looked at him, confused. Jacob grinned.

"Come on, only three more! Didn't think I'd leave you here to have fun without me, did you?"

J. Gander tried to reply, but he had no breath to speak.

"Hey John, you don't look so good," Jacob remarked, concern flickering across his face.

J. Gander began gasping for air, almost choking on it each time he inhaled because he did it so fast, and his face was white as a sheet.

"Hey! Look at me! Look at me!" the mallard demanded insistently until J. Gander complied. "Breathe. Slowly...slowly...find a pattern. You'll get your second wind soon, just pay attention to what I say."

The goose did as he was told, eyeing Jacob the whole time. It was obvious that he was no athlete, especially when he was running next to the mallard who had been the top track star at his university. Soon J. Gander reclaimed his breath, his color returned, and they finished off his last lap around the course.

Almost instantly J. Gander doubled over, resting his hands on his knees, and breathed deeply. Jacob went over to him and put a hand on his back.

"Well, look at it this way. At least you only had to climb The Wall once today, right?"

Somehow J. Gander didn't feel very consoled, but after a few minutes he stood back up and walked with his friend out of the gym.

"Didn't you have somewhere to be at eight?" J. Gander asked through gulps of air.

"Yeah," Jacob replied unenthusiastically. "'Clean-up duty.' Bah..."

"No, I mean-"

"GAIL!" Jacob's eyes went wide as he remembered the plans he'd made earlier in the week. Frantically he looked down at his friend and gripped his shoulders. "John, my paper-"

"Done," J. Gander replied simply, putting a hand between him and Jacob.

"Oh, you're the BEST, John!" Jacob grinned at his friend and then took off down the hallway.

"I know," J. Gander smirked as he watched him go. "I know."