The first of many stories I hope to make involving the Duck boys. Mainly this series is going to revolve around Donald, and his adventures in learning just how hard parenting can be, and how he can become better at it for his boys. Different stories will involve different points in the Duck boy's lives. Shaking Hands Arc takes place a year before the nephews meet Scrooge. Other Arcs will include different time periods.

Also, this is a Ducktales Human!AU fic. I didn't have space to include it in the title. Hope you enjoy! Make sure to leave a comment if you liked it and want to see more!

His hands gripped the old, leather steering wheel so tight they were turning a dangerous color of white. Frustration pulsed through every vein in his body as he mumbled angrily under his breath. His old Jeep Wagoneer squeaking and groaning with every sudden stomp on the breaks and turns taken too sharply as he raced uptown.

Usually, it would be the noon traffic causing the heat in his cheeks to rise as his temper would get the best of him. But, for once, his angry mutters and snide curses weren't directed at the other drivers commuting on the same roads. (Even if that one jerk did cut him off at Hemmingway and Nordman Street.)

No. His one-sided-conversation outbursts he'd been having ever since he had gotten into the car were entirely focused on the one thing that could make Donald Duck drop everything in half a heartbeat. The only thing that could make Donald switch emotions from disappointment to panic to rage so quickly it was as easy as flicking a light switch on and off and on again. The only thing that could make Donald excuse himself early from a meeting that was so, so, important, a meeting that had been planned for weeks and depended solely on his presence, that it was making Donald's stomach tie itself in sickening knots for leaving something that could very well change the rest of his life. And, judging from the looks of annoyance and displeasure burning hot against his back as he left the conference room, the rest of his life may have taken a turn for the worst.

All because of this one thing. The same thing it always was.

His boys.

"I'm gonna kill 'em," he all but growled as he swung the steering wheel to the left, hitting the curb so hard he nearly toppled his car onto its side. Thankfully, Lady Karma was probably thinking his day couldn't have gotten any worse and pitied him, so his car steadied itself back on all four wheels as he continued to maneuver his way hastily through the crowded streets of Duckberg City.

"I told them, what? Four? Five times this morning! Another ten last night! About a 100 more times this week! I said, 'no matter what, DO NOT get into trouble today'." He took another sharp turn, practically almost clipping an older woman crossing the street with her dog. He barely spared a glance in the rearview mirror and didn't give her a second thought when he saw that she was alright and waving her handbag angrily at him.

"I told them any other day. Literally. Any. Other. Day. Would have been fine. They could light explosives in the street or graffiti every last cop car in the damn city for all I cared. As long as they didn't do it today." He slammed on the breaks just as the street light turned red and nearly avoided becoming a car-sized pancake in the middle of the intersection by a large semi barreling by.

"I swear, it goes in one ear and out the other with them. Because did they listen? Oh, no! No, instead I get an urgent call from the principle, the principal herself, saying that I needed to come to the school now! That I had to drop everything and come see what mess the boys made this time!"

In retrospect, he could have ignored the call. Or better yet, he could have explained that he was in a very important meeting that he could not miss and could have asked to see the principle when he'd come to pick the boys up after school. Hell, anything would have been better, as long as he had stayed at that meeting. As long as he didn't leave with nothing but an embarrassed grin and a pathetic excuse for a sorry to justify his leaving.

His grip on the wheel loosened just a fraction as he exhaled a long breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

But he didn't. He couldn't. It was the boys after all. His boys. If the principle of their school, hell, if a substitute teacher needed to see him about the boys, no matter how big or small the issue was, there was nothing on this earth that could stop Donald from dropping everything and racing over to them.

Of course, that didn't mean Donald couldn't be as mad as a bat outta hell as he raced.

Pulling into the all too familiar elementary school, Donald had the distant thought that they should make him his own parking spot for all the times he's had to visit the school cause of the boys. Of course, not all those times where because the boys were in particular trouble for misbehaving.

There'd been spelling bees and play performances and soccer games. Parent/teacher conferences and field trips that Donald volunteered to chaperone. Those were times Donald enjoyed coming to the boy's school. Supporting them, and seeing them excel in the things they liked doing.

But those few good times were far outmatched by the more prominent and pressing ones.

Playing field hockey in the science lab, setting free all of the biology frogs in the cafeteria, and putting Play-Doh in all the instruments in the music room were just a handful of incidents that came to mind. Most of those incidents had resulted in the threat of expulsion, and with what little luck Donald had in him, he had managed (practically begged) to lower the punishment to just a metaphorical slap on the wrists.

But the threat was always there.

And he desperately hoped today wasn't the day where his luck would run out.

Taking much longer than he'd wanted to park and lock his car, having fumbled with his numerous amount of keys on his key ring and smacking his head on the dashboard to pick them up from where he dropped them, he had to physically force himself not to stomp his way up the school steps and fling open the entry doors.

At this point, he could probably walk to the principles office blindfold, knowing the layout almost as well as he knew his own houseboat. It took him record time to march his way over to the school's checkout desk, and before he could even say anything, the secretary was already handing him the check-in clipboard.

"What did they do this time?" Donald asked, scribbling in his name and the time of his arrival, skipping the pleasantries at this point in their relationship. The secretary, Miss Gadwall, probably knew more about him and the boys than most of his own family. That wasn't surprising though, considering the only family he really kept in contact with was Granny Duck. And sadly they only ever visited her farm during the holidays. Whereas he seemed to see the school's secretary on almost a weekly occurrence.

Obviously, a backwards way to go about life, but Donald's never really had a conventional lifestyle, so why try and change it now after all these years?

And Miss Gadwell, bless her, was always kind and understanding towards Donald and their situation. She gave him a sad, knowing smile as she stopped typing and took the now finished paperwork from Donald's hands.

"It's better if you just go in and see for yourself. They're waiting for you now," she motioned her head towards the back door at the end of the hallway. The principle's office. Donald nodded solemnly and loosened his necktie as he walked past the front desk towards his impending doom.

Before he could make it halfway down the hallway, however, Miss Gadwall had called his attention once more. "Donald."

He paused and turned to see her standing and leaning over her desk to see him better. Her smile was gone, but the same sad expression, an expression he notes he's never really seen on the young woman's face before, lingered as she looked at him.

"Go easy on him," was all she said as she sat back down and continued typing on her computer.

Something screamed painfully in the back of his mind, warning sirens blaring as his anger from before quickly dissolved into an overprotective panic. His boys were the only ones in the world that could make his emotions transition so fluidly and without a second thought. Donald's mind was starting to swim with this new piece of information that asked more questions than he had answers for, and it took all his willpower not to race down the hallway, grab the door handle with his now shaking hands and throw it open with enough force to break it.

Because Miss Gadwell, as sweet as she was, never held back in faulting the boys when they had gotten into trouble. She had never expressed a sense of pity for them, as she did just now.

And if there was one thing he admired about his boys, was the unrelenting fact that they had each other's backs through thick and thin. There was no such thing as only one of them getting in trouble because where one of them was, the other two were never far in front or behind. Every shattered window, smoke bomb in the bathroom and water balloon to the face prank, had all three of their signatures on it. 'Ride or Die' Donald had once overheard them say to each other, a sort of unspoken agreement between the three that no matter what, it would always be the three of them. It would always be Huey, Dewey, AND Louie.

Go easy on him.

Donald swallowed, ignoring the cold sweat now running down his back as he gripped the door handle like it was a lifeline. Mustering up all the courage in the world, he steadied his hand and opened the door.

Because if there was only one of them in there, then there was something seriously wrong.