[So, apologies.

With everything going on and a recent personal tragedy, I haven't been writing very much.

Still have some ideas floating around but no definitive schedule planned.

If anyone is still interested I'll keep trying to post new stuff. It just may be a bit more sporadic than usual.

And to show you I'm not a complete jerk, here's a new chapter.]

Scrooge McDuck sat behind his desk and thought.

He always said he was smarter than the smarties, right?

So why did this mystery stump him so much?

After they returned from the Money Bin most of the household went back to bed. Della, like her boys, snored like a freight train as soon as her head hit her pillow. The girls likewise went back to bed, though Webby had to run her energy out tying string on her new "Donald" board. Mrs. Beakley was still awake, possibly contemplating the same problem Scrooge was right now.

What in the haggis had gotten into Donald?

Scrooge sat in his chair long after dawn and the light spilled in through the window. Duckworth had brought in his favorite tea almost exactly when the sun began to rise, and Scrooge sipped it while considering every angle of last night's events.

He turned his attention to his door when he heard the familiar "flap-clank" of his niece's stride.

The door opened, and Della walked in dressed casually in t-shirt and shorts. Her fatigue had been slept off and she appeared ready for anything. "Any news on Donnie yet?"

The elder duck raised a brow as his niece hopped to sit at the corner of his desk and poured herself a cup. "Nay lass, your delinquent brother has not seen fit to tell m- us anything."

Della caught the slip but did not remark. A decade missing, but over time she quickly retrained her instincts.

Her uncle was worried. He had been ever since she returned. And later when they realized Donald never made it to his cruise.

She did not miss how he spent money, ACTUAL MONEY, to keep the entire family in the mansion after they had all been reunited. Anything they wanted Scrooge would send for, sparing no expense.

She finally had to confront him about it after she caught him struggling to purchase Louie a diamond studded pen set. She thought he was about to have an actual heart attack signing the first three letters of his name on the check.

"Fine", Louie had fake whined knowing the jig was up, "I guess I'll have to go OUT and find one myself."

After she shooed him out the door she and her uncle had a long chat. Eventually the entire family, adopted family included of course, came together and heard Scrooge's concerns. They had a big meeting like you see in those family movies about "looking out for each other" and stuff.

And NO secrets.

Looked like Donald had his fingers crossed when they agreed on that one.

"Could he have gone to Daisy's?" She remembered the woman her brother had mooned over.

"Nay", Scrooge shook his head slightly while staring into his cooling coffee. "She is dating Gladstone at the moment", he said with a frown. He liked her, liked her character, but he didn't like how she seemed to string Donald along. His nephew was a grown man however, and if he didn't want advice about his love life, Scrooge wouldn't butt in.

"Ah", Della's frown matched her uncle's. "What about Gladstone's?"

"It was announced that he won the free cruise yesterday", Scrooge snorted. "I'm positive he took Daisy along."

Della sat there and tried to come up with another option Donald could have taken. "He could have rented a room somewhere."

Scrooge considered that. He had called around asking the local hotels if anyone matching Donald's description had rented a room. So far there had been no sign of him.

The World's Richest Duck also tried to track his nephew's charge card. He had come upon the idea years ago to pay Donald and then also Della directly to their accounts and made sure they had gotten special cards he could locate if they were used. Just to make sure they were not spending frivolously he had assured himself.

"No hotel, boarding house, nor kennel have reported a temperamental sailor", the elder duck glared at the phone on his desk willing it to ring with news.

Always upbeat and unstoppable Della gave a small laugh, "well no news is good news. If he had found trouble half of Duckberg would have heard about it."

Scrooge chuckled as well. No one could ever accuse Donald of being quiet.

Still, where could he have disappeared to?

- Ducktales -

Benita Beakley sipped her tea and typed another password onto her laptop.

She had another 5 minutes before the device fried itself and was useless.

Scrooge McDuck would have a coronary if he knew how much went into these "burn laptops", but that was the price you paid for S.H.U.S.H. secrecy.

Finally, her password was authenticated, and she was granted access to the files. She quickly selected the ones that piqued her interest and finalized her decision. In two hours precisely a non-descript business person will bump into her in town during his break and accidently mix his papers up with whatever she happened to be carrying.

It was all rather elaborate, but if perfectly executed no ordinary person would be suspicious.

Still, this all seemed needlessly dramatic for information on Donald Duck.

She had had her suspicions of the man, but surely what S.H.U.S.H. knew about him and where he could possibly be hiding (because like it or not he was one of the only living relatives of the richest duck in the world and would always be the subject of scrutiny) did not need this much cloak and dagger.

Honestly, what kind of secrets could the accident-prone duck have?

- woo-woo—

As soon as the scent of food hit him he was instantly awake but being in a somewhat unfamiliar location and with years of experience, he made a show of dragging himself off the couch until he could get his bearings.

A woman's giggle greeted him, "I knew food would be better to wake you with than an alarm-clock."

The blonde duck leaned her head into her living room and grinned.

Donald immediately perked up and rubbed his eyes. That's right, he had made it to her apartment a little before dawn and crashed on her couch. He followed his host and the delicious smell into the kitchen.

Lyla Lay, an old friend of his, had just shut the fridge door and had two cans of Pep. The blonde sat them down next to the bag of burgers she brought home from the diner near her building.

Donald wasted no time taking a seat and digging in. Lyla giggled again and ate at a less frenzied pace.

It amazed Donald to see her joining him in a meal, considering what she was…

"So, did you dream up any excuses?" She asked in between bites.

Donald swallowed awkwardly and thumped his chest a few times before guzzling his soda. That was the reason WHY he had crashed on her couch. He glanced past her concerned face to the digital clock reading 12:35 P.M.

He was NOT hiding from his family, he was just… giving them and himself some space.

"Not yet", he finally coughed out. She relaxed a bit after he took a deep breathe.

What was he supposed to tell them anyway? An old adversary of his set him off and his battle instincts kicked in? Lena's recording startled him, and he forgot that he was not wearing his old mask?

There were too many questions he did not want to answer.

"You could tell them the truth", she hurriedly continued before he could squawk out a denial. "It's your best shot if you want to smooth things over."

He harrumphed in his seat and refused to make eye contact.

"You don't have to go into all the details", she swirled her soda a bit in the can, "just something like, hey, I was a masked vigilante for a few years and I fought that guy. He's bad news so don't go looking for him".

Donald had to crack a small smile at her lousy impression of him. Her smirk behind her can would have sparked his annoyance again if she hadn't been one of his best and closest friends.

"Speaking of details", he continued after a bite, "why didn't you tell me you "retired"?"

She didn't choke or do a spit-take. She had far too much control for that. But the flush of embarrassment up her neck and on her cheeks was a product of amazing forethought and design.

She paused for a moment before meeting his gaze.

"I suppose, I was embarrassed." Her assignment meant everything to her.

Not the journalist job. That was fun, and it certainly helped, but it was second to her real work.

"Why?" Donald was honestly puzzled. "You did good work, why not enjoy retirement?"

"BECAUSE!" Lyla slammed her hand into the table, leaving a fist-sized dent in the steel. "What's my purpose now? What do I do?"

Donald calmly picked up their tipped over cans and moved the burgers away from the spill. Lyla placed her hands in her lap and watched as her guest cleaned her accident and got them another round of Pep form her fridge.

Lyla accepted the can with a quiet, "thank you."

Donald sat but didn't open his can. He watched the woman until she calmed herself.

"The Time Police was my existence", she spilled her synthetic heart to him. "Literally. I was designed for the work. After my last software update, Odin Eidolon himself supervised my transfer to a new chassis. He called it my "gold watch". Didn't understand the reference until my supervisors gave me a choice. Either stay in the future and get a civilian job or return and live out "Lyla Lay's" days in the past."

"And you returned?" Donald questioned.

"Of course", she appeared on the verge of tears. Another new feature of her new body. "This has become my home. Far more than anywhere in the future. How could I leave you, and everyone else?"

"And now you just report the news?"

Regaining some of her humor, she mock chastised the man. "I do far more than just report the news Donald! But, it was useful. I could keep an eye on potential time disruptions from Channel 00 newsroom. Now, I don't know if I want to continue doing something that reminds me of what I once was."

He didn't know what to say, or how to comfort her. Daisy used to complain that he was uncaring brute. He cared, just like with most things he did he was clumsy at it.

He reached over and patted her shoulder awkwardly. The absurdity of the action brought a small smile to her face and a cheeky grin to his.

They continued eating in companionable silence.

Donald was lost in thought. He had to take care of his little slip up in front of his family, potential problems from the Raider (and Donald was CERTAIN he would return sooner or later) and he needed to help his friend. They hadn't been as close lately, but that will have to change. She seemed to need a shoulder to lean on and Donald Fauntleroy Duck always supported his friends.

And maybe everything would work out nice and easy for once.

Yeah, and maybe Gladstone would fall overboard on his trip.