happilyeverbeginning | Donald & Daisy - First Meeting

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Donald & Daisy - First Meeting - Ducktales 2017

With many of Scrooge McDuck's recent adventures being public, reporters were constantly hounding down McDuck Manor to try and snag a hot interview with the bajillionare himself. Daisy was still an up-and-comer, although she was often treated more like the "go fetch me coffee" girl. But she didn't just want news that was right this moment and didn't hit everyone. She believed that every single member of the McDuck exploration team had a story, and the world deserved to hear them. Why just go with McDuck when single fathers would love to hear about Donald, or aspiring kids wanted to see themselves in the triplets?

That was the totally legitimate reason she'd snuck into the mansion and was trying to climb into Donald's house boat. She wasn't a crazy person. Really. After all, she didn't think anyone actually lived in the boat - why would they, when you had a mansion? Time to find some newsworthy clues!

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From her angle, she'd only really see Donald bobbing in the water, conversing with someone standing at the edge of the pool, just blocked by the window. The words would be hard to make out, but the voice was unmistakable.

Eventually the figure walked off, and Daisy would be able to catch Scrooge McDuck walking back to the mansion as Donald swam around. A moment or two later, the door burst open, and Donald stood there, breathing heavy as water dripped from his soaked form to the floor.

A few hints of guilt began to drip down Daisy's back, and she ducked her pencil in her feathery hair. "You're going to catch a cold like that." She looked around, trying to find what this place would call a bathroom - ah-ha, towels! Surely he wouldn't bark at her for touching them.

"Here, dry off. It must be freezing at this time of night."

A bit surprised, he took the towel a bit warily.

"...Thanks."

There was no reason to be suspicious, it was his towel after all. But she was a reporter, trying to get the scoop on him and his family. The gesture didn't mean all that much, did it?

He kept an eye on her as he dried himself off, not entirely sure what to say.

"...What did you say your name was?"

"Daisy Duck, undercover reporter for Channel 6, all the news that's fit to quack!" She repeated word for word, having memorized it so much she even wound up saying it in her sleep a few times. "So, back to the questions... If you're living it up in McDuck Manor, why is there a house boat in the pool? ... Aesthetic?"

...Huh. That was a pretty name.

The thought was gone as quick as it came, but it still brought a blush on his cheeks, and he quickly shook his head, trying to focus on the situation at hand.

"Because it's mine. Everything here is property of the old man, except this boat. And I'm keeping it that way."

Then he pointed at her.

"Either way, you're trespassing!"

Daisy began scribbling down, as if ignoring his justified shout. "Donald Duck is a proud man, sticking to his principles no matter what comes his way." She said out lout as she wrote. "It's a rare, even noble trait that is surprising to see in this day and age. He won't accept anything that he didn't earn with his own two hands, even when his uncle is rich enough to buy a million better boats."

A pause. "Which sounds better, a million or a billion?"

He let out a frustrated quack, pushing down her notebook a bit.

"Forget the story! You need to leave, before someone else catches you here!"

"I'm not leaving without a story!" Daisy protested, placing the eraser of her pencil between Donald's eyes to push him back. "The world knows Scrooge McDuck, but nobody knows Donald Duck! Wouldn't you like everyone to know about you and all you've done?"

He stumbles back a bit, but recovers enough to look at her; surprised at first, but his expression soon hardened a bit.

"No! All I'm trying to do is take care of my family! And the adventures and dangers are all bad enough without having to worry about...this!" He gestured to her notebook.

"I may not be able to keep them out of trouble, but I can darned well make sure that the news keeps out of our family's privacy!"

At this rate, she was going to be out before she had anything juicy. The big problem was that he was entirely justified, and if he kept this up, the guilt would overwhelm her. That left Daisy with one option in order to stay. Not the most dignified option, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

She was a pretty girl, and she knew it.

"Can't I stay for just a little, itty bitty while?" First, the cutesy talk. Then, leaning on his shoulder, with fluttery eyelashes. "I won't be any trouble at all." With a sing-song melody in her tone.

The anger quickly subsided as a shiver ran down his spine at her touch. The blush returning to his cheeks, he stammered, pulling a bit on his collar.

...Gosh, it was suddenly hot in here, wasn't it?

"W-Well, I-I uh..." He swallowed, all the words suddenly leaving his brain.

...Shoot.

It was almost too easy. It definitely helped that he was pretty cute.

"I promise I'll leave when I learn all about this handsome fellow right here." Daisy lightly traced a heart shape on his chest, enjoying the squirming in his eyes. "So can't I stay for a while? I bet a big strong man like yourself would have no problem making sure we're both safe and sound..."

Another tingle went up his spine, causing his feathers to fluff out a bit.

It was almost too easy, as his heart pounded in his chest. Except -

He reached up, stilling her hand.

"No. If Uncle Scrooge catches you, I might not be able to stop him."

If she tried to argue, he cut her off.

"You shouldn't be here. So..." Glancing off to the side, he heaved a sigh. "If you really want something...maybe we should talk somewhere else."

Daisy was ready to forgo the flirtation and go straight for beating his head with her writing pad, when he suddenly offered a much better idea. Her eyes lit up. "Oh, that's great! Lead the way!" She dropped her game entirely giddily clapping her hands. "It'll be like having a personal tour from the best guide around!"

He snorted, taking her hand.

"We're not staying on the manor grounds. If I let a reporter stay here, Uncle Scrooge'll kill me too."

Leading her out of the boat, he took a cursory glance around, making sure the backyard was empty before leading her around to the front.

"Aw, c'mon! Daisy whined, not about being taken by the hand - that had no complaint at all - but about the lack of interesting territory around them. "If you're not going to show me something I can write about, then you'd better answer all of my questions! I didn't come here for nothing!"

"I'll answer what questions I can, but that's all you're getting. Remember, you did break into private property, and you're lucky I don't just call the police."

He won't, but she didn't need to know that.

"If you were going to, you would've already." Daisy might not have had bad luck, but she knew how to push any good luck she had. "It's cause you're a good guy."

He glanced at her, then abruptly turned away again, grumbling a bit under his breath.

"Yeah, well...pressing charges is too much of a hassle anyway."

Right.

Stubborn to a fault and super prideful, maybe even bashful - she'd have to jot those details down later. Even though they weren't entirely in the clear, she began to ask questions anyway.

"Let's start with you, Donald Duck! When's your birthday? How old are you? Favorite past-times?"

Opening the front gate, he led her to a secluded, out of the way spot where he knew they wouldn't be bothered. He doesn't even have a chance to relax before she started rattling off questions, and he had to take a moment to catch up to them.

"Uh....June 9th, I'm in my 30s, and I like sailing."

With her pad out again, Daisy began to scribble down the answers - but then she paused, and looked up with a squint.

"30s? Really? You look like early 20s, at most! You must have an amazing exercise regimen to keep that look."

He laughed, somewhat sheepishly.

"Well thanks! But the only exercise I get is keeping up with the boys and Uncle Scrooge."

Cute... scribble scribble.

"Speaking of the triplets, who's your favorite?"

He gave what sounded like an offended huff.

"What kinda question is that? I don't have any favorites! I love them all equally!"

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