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He wasn’t wearing a ring.
It was a ridiculous detail to fixate on, Daisy knew that.
They were crawling through the museum’s air vents while the party she’d spent months organizing was going up in smoke because her head of security decided to be cute and stage a robbery. Their glimpse through that first air vent revealed armed strangers, the party guests bound with rope and Glamour nowhere in sight.
When Donald searched frantically through the slats, she’d first assumed he was worried for his band members. The reality was far more grim.
“My kids!” he cried, the words torn from him.
It took her a moment to process what he’d said, and by then they were already on the move to find a better vantage point.
“Wait, you have kids?” she asked, stunned and already worried for them. Kids. Donald, with the sweet voice and the kind eyes, was also a father. It was surprising, but also not at all; she imagined he was a wonderful parent. It was just her luck that the most decent guy she’d met in months was probably taken.
But perhaps she sounded too shocked, as she watched his shoulders stiffen and he banged his head on the ceiling of the air vent. “Yeah,” he replied, with a note of wariness. “They were, uh, helping my band and me break into the party.”
Ignoring the reminder of what got her stuck in the elevator in the first place, considering she had far bigger problems now, Daisy gently asked, “Were you able to see them down there? Your kids?”
They came upon another grate, this one right above the stage. Donald crawled to the opposite side and pulled a Swiss army knife from his pocket, flipping out the screwdriver bit. “I saw one of them,” he said, quickly working on removing the screws holding the grate in place. “She was tied up with the other guests. Normally she can get free with no problem so she must be waiting for the boys to come up with a plan…”
Daisy glanced at his hands while he spoke. Donald wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but with at least three children chances were high that he had a partner. Maybe rings just weren’t their thing. Or maybe she was thinking about this too hard.
Donald had removed the first two screws when the lights went out in the museum below them. A spotlight appeared on the stage, illuminating a small figure in a black and gold plated jacket.
“Oh, Dewey,” he said, shaking his head with a smile.
He undid the last screw and Daisy didn’t have more time to debate whether or not Donald Duck was single before they were leaping out of the air vent, aiming for Falcon Graves’ head.
Not moments after Miss Glamour stalked away, before Daisy could even begin to process her dress being added to the IT List, Donald was swarmed by no less than three exuberant children. Daisy stepped back, giving him space to reconnect with what could only be his kids.
“You jumped out of the ceiling!” exclaimed the boy in a black jacket with gold shoulder pads. Dewey, if she recalled correctly. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever—wait, did you see my yo-yo trick?”
“Can you tell Dewey that he owes me half of any compensation he earns from being on the IT List—”
“Are you all okay?” Donald demanded, interrupting the boy in a cute suit and green bowtie. He knelt down and gathered them close in his arms.
The two boys groaned.
“We’re fine!”
“Obviously we’re fine.”
The girl with a pink bow in her hair beamed. “I was almost stabbed in the face! And I ate about fifteen mini shrimp. Oh, do you think the buffet’s still open?”
Donald stood back up with a sigh, but he was smiling as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m glad you kids had fun.”
The parrot and rooster who helped fight Falcon’s goons joined them with whooping laughter. The rooster slung an arm around Donald’s shoulders.
“What a party, eh amigos? Almost makes up for the fact that we didn’t get to perform after all!”
“Well, perhaps not in the traditional sense,” the parrot replied, jerking his thumb back at the wolves they left tied up and unconscious at the base of the staircase. “Besides, you seem to have had an adventure all your own, Donal’.”
Daisy faltered in the midst of adjusting her purse strap, trying and failing not to eavesdrop too obviously. Glancing up, she met the parrot’s eyes and encouraging smile before he elbowed Donald in the side, his grin turning sly.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” he asked pointedly.
This time, Donald’s sigh was much longer and Daisy giggled at the sound of it. He shrugged off the rooster’s arm, who nearly fell over at the lack of support, and moved to rejoin Daisy at her side.
“Daisy Duck,” he said, his smile returning as he addressed her, “meet José Carioca and Panchito Pistoles. My, uh, my band.”
“Are you telling me you didn’t sing the praises of the Three Caballeros while you were…” Panchito started to exclaim, only to falter. “Where were you anyway?”
“Trapped in the elevator,” Daisy replied dryly. “Thanks to your scheme, I assume?”
“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Duck,” José quickly said, reaching out to shake her hand. “We’re sorry for crashing your party. I suppose we got a little carried away with our desire for fame.”
“Same here,” Panchito said, giving her an exuberant handshake. “Would it help if we said it was all Louie’s idea?”
“Hey!” snapped the kid wearing a suit, looking aghast. “What the heck, Tío Pan—”
“And these are my kids,” Donald said in a rush, gathering them before Daisy in a line. “Well, three of them. Huey’s at home because he didn’t get roped into this mess.”
“Actually,” the girl with a pink bow started to say, “he forged the signature on the—”
“Louie Duck!” blurted the kid in the suit, also sticking out his hand for a handshake. “And might I just say, Ms. Duck, you did a lovely job planning this party.”
“Uh huh,” Daisy replied wryly, reaching down to shake his hand. “Obviously not, if you six hooligans were able to sneak in.”
“Buh…have you met my brother Dewey?” Louie shoved the kid wearing the black and gold jacket forward. Dewey seemed to take it in stride, posing dramatically with a hand on his chest.
“Dewey Turbo Duck, otherwise known as DJ Daft Duck, yo-yo master extraordinaire! It’s a pleasure to make the acquaintance of another member of the IT List.”
“I’m Webby!” exclaimed the last kid. “I saw you take down Falcon Graves; where’d you learn to fight like that? Are you a secret assassin?”
Daisy laughed, finding herself oddly charmed. Donald’s kids were certainly some of the strangest she’d ever met, and that was including her own nieces.
“I might’ve taken one or two self-defense classes,” Daisy replied.
She fought a flare of embarrassment recalling the rage that had descended over her after Graves threw Donald into the stage. While she knew she had a protective streak a mile wide, they’d barely met. It wasn’t as if she had any claim to him; she had three perfectly good reasons not to get her hopes up right in front of her.
She met Donald’s gaze over the heads of his kids, and found him already looking back at her. His cheeks bloomed faintly pink and he opened his beak as though to speak.
At the moment, A barrage of uniformed officers and EMTs poured through the museum entrance, the spinning red and blue lights from their cars bouncing through the windows. A plainclothes officer with a badge hanging around her neck was at the forefront of the group.
“Henandez, go with the EMTs, see if anyone’s injured,” she ordered, “Fangmeyer, take a team of five and round up our perps. The rest of you start taking statements. We need to figure out what sort of tontería happened here.”
The officer’s gaze landed on their group and she stopped in her tracks. “Why am I not surprised?” she muttered, raising a hand to her face.
Donald chuckled nervously. “Evening, Officer Cabrera.”
“Wherever there’s chaos, you Ducks aren’t far behind are you?” the officer said as she approached them, startling Daisy with her familiarity. “And I see Thing One and Thing Two have joined you tonight. Como están, chicos?”
“Mejor ahora que estás aquí, Detective,” Panchito said brightly.
“Com certeza,” José added with a level of sincerity that was belied by his smirk.
Officer Cabrera rolled her eyes. “Right. Well I’d like to take your statements first, if you don’t mind. You’re probably the only ones who know what really happened here, anyway.”
Donald started to turn, leading his kids after the officer, and Daisy’s heart fell despite herself. Any chance to speak with him in private would be permanently delayed, it seemed.
As though he’d read her mind or, more mortifying, she was just being that obvious, José quickly stepped forward. “Why don’t Panchito and I take the kids, Donal’? After all, we were in the museum the entire time. Give you two a chance to catch up?”
José tilted his head Daisy’s way, but was thankfully subtle otherwise. It didn’t keep Donald from flushing a bit, made worse by Panchito’s entirely unsubtle wink.
“You got this, hermano,” the rooster said, before he started herding the kids away. “Vamos, niños! Let us wow the detective with tales of our bravery.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Louie asked.
“Yeah,” Dewey said, watching Donald with narrowed eyes.
“Kids, go with Panchito and José,” Donald said, not meeting Daisy’s eyes. “I’ll be right there, okay?”
The kids sighed and said in unison, “Okay, Uncle Donald.”
Daisy hadn’t thought anything else could surprise her this evening, but clearly she was destined to be proven wrong.
As the group wandered off after Officer Cabrera, Donald glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck.
“So...you’re their uncle?” Daisy said after a moment of needlessly smoothing her dress.
That, at last, got Donald to look at her again. “Yeah,” he replied, his expression gentling with fondness. “But they’re my kids. I raised them. Well, except for Webby, she came in a little later.”
At the sight of Daisy’s surely perplexed expression, he chuckled raspily. Like everything else about him, she found she quite liked the sound of it.
“It’s a long story,” he said apologetically.
“I’d like to hear it sometime,” Daisy replied, hesitating for a second before she stepped closer to him. “That is...I wasn’t sure, but since you have kids I thought you might...well, already be seeing someone.”
Donald startled. “Already be—no! No, I’m not s-seeing anyone.” He laughed nervously. “I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since before the boys were born.”
“Oh,” Daisy said, smiling as relief flowed over her, calming as cool water. “Good.”
“It is?” he said, eyes wide.
“I’d like to see you again.” Daisy toyed with the strap of her purse. “Preferably somewhere without elevators or armed robberies.” When Donald continued to look more shocked, she hastened to backtrack. “If-if you want. No pressure or anything, of course.”
“I do!” Donald blurted. He faltered, saying more quietly, “I’d love to-to see you again. I didn’t...I wasn’t sure you’d want to.” His tone was similar to that in the elevator, eyes downcast and voice hesitant, unsure if he would be understood. Nobody listens to me, either.
Just as she did then, Daisy found herself reaching out to him. This time literally, as she carefully took his hand in hers. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked.
He gave her a grudging smile as his beak flamed crimson. “I feel a little silly now but I thought...well, I know kids can be a dealbreaker for some people.”
Daisy looked back on her surprise in the air vent in a different light. “And you thought I wouldn’t be interested if you were a dad?”
He shrugged, avoiding her gaze. She was rewarded with his flustered expression once she leaned it and briefly kissed his cheek.
“Your kids seem great,” she said. “And you seem great. I’m willing to try this if you are.”
Donald squeezed her hand. “My kids have been my whole life for the last eleven years. It might take some time for me to get used to...more.”
“Well, good thing I’m not going anywhere,” Daisy said. Her heart skipped as Donald tried and failed to look anything other than thrilled.