quick drabble - minnie and donald

[blackmagicduck]

 

“Remind me why I'm doing this again?” Donald grumbled, even though he knew darn well why.

 

“Because you're my dear friend, and you're Mickey's size.” Minnie replied easily enough, plucking out another pin from her vast collection of sowing necessities.

 

“And you'll tell Daisy if I don't, and then she'll never let me hear the end of it.”

 

“That too. Now, please stay still!”

 

Donald huffed, and tried to do as he was told, but it wasn't easy. When Minnie had practically begged him for help with Mickey's birthday present, how was he supposed to resist those doe-eyes? This is how he wound up becoming a living pin-cushion, as Minnie wanted to hand-knit a perfect sweater but needed the right size, so there wouldn't be another fiasco like the pair of two-left handed mittens last year.

 

“You could give that guy a ball of lint,” Donald said mostly for the sake of speaking, “And he'd love it to bits.”

 

“That's not true,” although Minnie had a small feeling it probably was on some level.

 

“I'm just saying, you don't have to go nuts about this. He's so ga-ga over you, he'd be happy with anything you gave him. It's not that important.”

 

“It's important to me.” She looked up at him – doe-eyes again, dang it. “Haven't you ever wanted to do something special for someone you care about?”

 

Welp. She got him there. How many times had he bent over backwards for his boys and for Daisy? He huffed and puffed. “... If he doesn't like it, I'll kick his tail.”

 

Thankfully, Minnie was always quick to cheer up. “Thank you, Donald.” He visibly forced himself not to complain for the rest of the day, which was difficult. He could see why Mickey adored Minnie so terribly – she was such an earnest girl that you kind of wanted to defend her against anything and anyone, including yourself. He couldn't see her in a romantic light, and the feelings he wound up having over her became more familial – like a little sister. In another life, he could easily envision his younger self defending little Minnie from childhood bullies and walking her home from school in case a neighborhood dog scared her.

 

Eventually the sweater was finished and Donald was free. “And you promise not to tell Mickey?” Minnie said after she put everything away, holding out her pinky for a guarantee.

 

“Of course I promise!” He was nearly insulted at the accusation, and linked his finger with hers. “My beak is sealed. You can always count on me.”

 

“I know I can.” Minnie smiled with light that could threaten the warmest summer's day.

 

It wasn't until later that Donald remembered Mickey's birthday wasn't for another couple of months – in fact, didn't he and Minnie share their birthday date? The dots didn't connect until his own special day came, and Minnie was at his front porch with a special familiar gift.