#rosieverse

Jim Starling wasn’t happy. And when wasn’t Jim Starling happy, he was determined to make everyone else’s lives as miserable as possible. He stood on the long conference table, shouting a plan about a meet-and-greet that would surely boost his fading popularity. 

“Just picture it!” Starling exclaimed. “Look, the Fearsome Four can open the event. Five minutes signing autographs for them and no more! And then I make a fashionably late entrance dressed as Darkwing Duck! Maybe about...fifteen minutes or so after the meet-and-greet starts, we can work out the details later. But the point is, I’m there, the fans will adore yours truly, and Darkwing Duck’s ratings go through the roof! What do you think?” 

Someone coughed, but the room was otherwise full of crickets. 

Tino glanced at the lovely bonsai tree on the windowsill, half-expecting an actual cricket to jump in and chirp merrily while ruining the tiny pink leaves. Next to him, Dan sketched a rough schematic of a toaster, humming to himself and not paying attention to the meeting. Jack flipped through a report on Darkwing Duck ratings and merchandise sales, scanning through the business jargon and statistics with practiced ease. 

In Tino’s opinion, Michael was lucky he got the babysitting job. Rosie was a sweet kid and a delight to be around. Much better than listening to an egotistical celebrity prattle on about boosting his public image. 

Speaking of which...

Tino glanced at the clock. 

Almost 4:00 pm, he realized. And it was his day to drive Rosie back to the orphanage too. They needed to get going before the Audubon Bay Bridge got clogged with rush hour traffic. 

Silently, Tino put his hand up, unwilling to interrupt the argument between Starling and the director. 

“Our budget’s already been slashed, and now you want us to spend more money to fuel your ego?” 

“Just pay for the venue! The special events center maybe. I hear the Duckburg Stadium is nice this time of year too,” Starling continued to suggest expensive locations that no sane person at the studio would ever consider. “Tell ‘em to bring their own snacks though. And you could always charge some good money for an autograph, maybe a little more for a photoshoot. That oughta make up your price.” 

“This town ain’t cheap, Starling!” the director snarled. “Do you realize how much McDuck charges for the use of his locations? In case you haven’t noticed, money doesn’t grow on trees!” 

“You’re as cheap as the network!” Starling scoffed. “Sabotaging a fine art for the sake of money!” 

“I’m. Being. Realistic,” the director gritted his teeth. 

Starling stomped over to the director’s chair. Their beaks were inches away as they stared each other down, willing their opponent to cave in. 

Before it could devolve into an insult-fest, Jack cleared his throat. Immediately, everyone turned their attention to him. Even Starling recognized that it was better to listen when Jack had something to say. 

“It’s Tino’s day to drive Rosie back to the orphanage,” Jack said. “He needs to leave now.” 

Tino shot Jack a grateful look, and the corners of the dog’s mouth twitched upwards in response. 

“Wait, that brat lives in an orphanage?” Starling blinked, his beak dropping open in surprise. 

Clearly, Starling had been living under a rock. Rosie’s orphan status was common knowledge with everyone in the studio. 

At least, Tino assumed it was. 

“Not everything revolves around your universe-sized ego, dim bulb,” one of the editors muttered. 

“Don’t insult actual dim bulbs,” Dan scolded. Then his expression softened as he turned to Tino. “And say hi to Rosie for me, okay?”

“Same here,” Jack agreed. “You should get going. I’ll fill you in later, but somehow I doubt there’ll be anything worth mentioning.” 

Since nobody accomplished anything in meetings when Starling was involved, Tino knew he wouldn’t be missing anything. 

Tino hurried out of the conference room. He felt Starling’s eyes bore into his back, but he brushed it off. 

He was the only person leaving early. It was perfectly natural that everyone’s attention would be drawn to him. 

It made his skin crawl. He just wasn’t one for the spotlight. 

                                              --------------------------------

“You’ll get there! Five bounces is pretty good for a beginner!” Michael exclaimed as he showed off a rather complicated yo-yo trick that involved a lot of twirling and loops. 

Rosie smiled, a pink yo-yo dangling from a string on her finger. “Thank you, Mr. Michael,” she said formally. “Would you mind teaching me your walk the dog trick in the future?” 

Michael grinned. “No problemo! Just keep practicing with that yo-yo. I’ve got plenty more.” 

“Oh no, I couldn’t!” Rosie’s eyes widened as she tried to give the yo-yo back. “It’s your toy, sir.” 

Michael shook his head, flipping into a handstand before cartwheeling away from Rosie. “Nope! No takebacks! It’s the highest law in the land!” he giggled. He caught sight of Tino and slumped to the ground, reminding Tino of a child who begged their parents for ten more minutes on the playground. “Looks like playtime’s over, kiddo.” 

“Hello, Mr. Tino!” Rosie exclaimed. “How was your meeting?” 

She hugged him enthusiastically, tiny hands squeezing his waistline and nearly knocking him off-balance. 

“Frankly, a bit boring,” Tino admitted once he adjusted his footing. “At least you and Michael are having fun.” 

Michael rolled his eyes. “What demands did the great and almighty Dumbwing make this time?” 

“Please don’t call name-call in front of Rosie,” Tino said as he ruffled Rosie’s flaming red curls. “She’s an impressionable child.”

“Fine, I’ll ask Jack later,” Michael said with a huff. His eyes flicked to Rosie, and his entire expression softened. “I get a goodbye hug too, right?” 

Rosie immediately latched onto Michael. “Don’t worry!” she chirped. “You get a goodbye hug too!” 

Michael laughed and patted her back. “I’ll be sure to pass your goodbye hugs onto Dan and Jack, okay?” 

“And Mr. Starling too!” Rosie added. 

Michael stiffened, though Rosie didn’t seem to notice. “Uh, sure. Him too.” 

Absolutely not, Michael mouthed at Tino. 

Starling loathed any form of prolonged physical contact. But Tino held his tongue, knowing he would confuse himself if he tried explaining that to a six-year-old.  

                                          --------------------------------

Much to Tino’s chagrin, they didn’t beat the rush hour traffic on the bridge. He turned the radio to a kid-friendly station and hoped the orphanage director would forgive him for being late. 

Caution was highly advised when dealing with St. Canard drivers. Really, Duckburg’s sister city was anything but saintly. 

Rosie didn’t mind though. She folded her hands in her lap, sitting like a dainty little princess upon a flower-patterned booster seat. 

“The view is pretty, Mr. Tino,” Rosie said. 

“It is,” Tino said, though he believed Audubon Bay was more dangerous than beautiful. There was a reason why crime shows loved using this body of water as a background. 

“It looks like the set of Darkwing Duck,” Rosie remarked.

“The main set was modeled off this area,” Tino said, pointing to a tower just above the toll gate. “That’s Darkwing’s lair over there.” 

Rosie craned her neck as she took in the sheer size of the tower. “Is he always up there if he’s not fighting bad guys?” she asked. “That’s awfully lonely.” 

“Darkwing Duck is the loner type,” Tino admitted. “I don’t think he minds.” 

Starling preferred doing everything himself, whether it involved thwarting crimes on a TV show or making himself the center of attention. In the best case scenario, people tolerated him. 

Still, it seemed like a lonely way to live. 

Of course, Michael and Dan would insist that Starling brought it on himself. Tino wasn’t a match for either of them when they were riled up, so he kept his beak shut on the matter. 

                                           -------------------------------- 

It was another hour before Tino got home from driving Rosie to the orphanage. The sunset lit up the sky in brilliant warm hues, and Tino was glad he made it home before nighttime. He didn’t like driving in the dark. 

He parked the car next to its usual spot near the mailbox, figuring that he had some time to check on his flowers before dinner. He circled the front lawn of the house, humming a bouncy tune as he checked the leaves of a violet. 

So far, everything seemed fine. The bushes wouldn’t need trimming for a while, no aphids were destroying his flowers, and the pansies were thriving. 

Before Tino could walk up to the front porch, the front door was suddenly wrenched open, bouncing off the wall with a harsh bang. 

“-AND GROW A DAMN SPINE!” Michael screeched, storming out of the house. He brushed past Tino, cursing Starling under his breath. 

Tino let him go. Michael’s temper cooled much faster when he had a few minutes to collect himself.

Dan and Jack watched Michael stomp down the sidewalk from their safe position in the hallway. 

“I’m guessing something important happened after all?” Tino asked, already dreading the answer. 

Jack nodded. “Dabble decided to use Starling’s idea for a meet-and-greet.”

Marino Dabble had the most volatile relationship with Starling out of all the directors in Darkwing Duck. He always seemed to provoke Starling during filming, disregarding any of Starling’s demands and cutting scenes whenever Starling shouted a contradicting order to keep the cameras rolling. 

“Except he wanted Rosie to be center stage,” Dan added. 

“Starling didn’t take it well,” Jack said. 

Tino wasn’t surprised, but he prayed Starling wouldn’t take his anger out on Rosie for taking his limelight. She was an innocent kid, and Dabble was putting her in the line of fire. Starling became irrational and even more temperamental when he believed someone was cutting into his screentime. 

Not for the first time, Tino wished he could be as outspoken as Michael or as respected as Jack. 

“Is that why Michael’s mad?” Tino asked. 

“I’ll go after him. He’s probably had enough time by now,” Dan said, gently pushing past Tino and hurrying out the door. 

“The meet and greet is two weeks away,” Jack said as Tino sat down at the dinner table. There was already a hot cup of tea and a strawberry salad in front of him. “We should prepare Rosie so she won’t be overwhelmed.” 

The deaths of Rosie’s parents had been widely publicized by both the Duckburg and St. Canard media. While details varied between newspapers and tabloids, the one thing that held true was that little rich girl Rosie had been left under the care of several maids while her parents had a date night. On the way back to the car, they were mugged and murdered for their money and valuables. Rosie found out the next morning, and she was shipped off to a St. Canard orphanage within a week. 

The killer was never caught. 

Several months later, a talent scout discovered Rosie’s acting abilities while searching for a suitable child to provide a voice in an animated film and introduced her to the studio. 

When Rosie wasn’t in lessons or voice-acting, she wandered over to the Darkwing Duck set, making polite small-talk with everyone she came across. Starling was the only one who ignored her presence.

He was always too caught up with himself to notice anything an inch away from his beak. 

Though Rosie only voiced a side character in the animated film, the life she breathed into the drawings captured the audience’s hearts. Tino had cried for twenty minutes straight when Rosie’s character sang a lullaby to herself after getting separated from her parents. 

Now that he gave it some thought, that part wasn’t an emotional act for Rosie. She knew those feelings all too well. 

Tino took a small bite of his strawberry, suddenly aware of Jack scrutinizing him like an interesting statistic. 

“Jack, can you please stop? It’s awkward when you do that,” Tino mumbled. 

Jack shrugged, gaze snapping to the table. “Sorry. You’re thinking about Rosie again, aren’t you?” 

“She’s...she’s a good kid,” Tino admitted. “Kinda deserves a permanent home, you know?” 

“I know,” Jack agreed, his mouth twitching. “She loves science.” 

“Just smile,” Tino suggested. “It looks good on camera.” 

“I don’t see any cameras at the moment,” Jack said as he squeezed a lemon into his water. “And besides, someone has to be the aloof, responsible one in this house.” 

Aloof. Sure, Tino snorted. 

Because aloof people totally shouted at the game show channel on TV. 

                                                 --------------------------------

Tino tore the purple wig off his head and dropped onto the green room’s couch in exhaustion, shoulder still aching from Starling’s punch during filming. Dan tossed him an ice pack from the small freezer. Jack made sure they never ran out of ice packs. It was a necessity when one worked with Starling. 

Tino gratefully placed it on his shoulder. 

Michael immediately launched into a tirade on where Starling could stick his overly large fedora, but Tino was only half-listening. They’d been through this song and dance before. 

There was a safe way for actors to punch and kick in fight scenes, but Starling never held back, which led to the Fearsome Four not holding back out of self-defense, and everything just snowballed from there. 

Starling had been more irritable during filming than usual, but Tino chalked it up to a hissy fit caused by Dabble’s decision to include Rosie in the meet and greet even though she wasn’t part of the Darkwing Duck cast. 

“-AND GET ALL THE WRINKLES OUT THIS TIME!” a voice shouted from outside the green room. 

Speak of the devil. 

“Stupid incompetent wardrobe team,” Starling muttered as he swept into the room. He’d discarded the cape, but wore the rest of his Darkwing Duck costume with overblown pride. 

Starling ignored everyone as he headed straight for the fridge and pulled out a brown paper bag that contained his lunch. Tino tried not to gag at the canned tuna and sauerkraut smell. 

Dan and Michael shifted over to Tino’s side of the room, occasionally shooting livid glares at Starling. Michael’s face turned the same shade of red as his Quackerjack outfit. He was only holding back for Tino’s sake. 

Since when did Starling take his lunch in the green room anyway? He hated eating around people he believed were beneath his association. 

“I’ve never been to a beach, Mr. Jack. Is it nice?” 

“Sure is. Natural saltwater is the best. Just don’t get it in your mouth though. It doesn’t taste good.” 

Jack neatly hung his coat on a row of hooks next to the door. Rosie tried to follow his lead, though she was too short to hang it herself. 

“May I take your jacket, young lady?” Jack asked with an elegant bow. 

Tino grabbed a pillow to muffle a sudden case of the giggles. So much for being the aloof one. 

Rosie smiled and folded her puffy pink jacket over his outstretched arm. Like a true gentleman, Jack placed it on the hook and patted out the creases. 

Starling rolled his eyes at the display and turned his back on them. But Tino knew he was watching Rosie bounce on her tip-toes as she explained everything she learned in her singing lessons. 

                                               -------------------------------- 

“I am the terror who flaps in the night! I am the faulty cord in the outlet of evil! I am Darkwing Duck!” Starling dramatically held his cape out behind him as he appeared in a puff of blue smoke. He shifted not-so-subtly to the left in an attempt to show off his best side. 

Since only Dan and Jack were needed for this episode, Tino and Michael watched the filming from the sidelines. It was for the best. Rosie’s reading tutor had unexpectedly called in sick, so she was able to spend the afternoon with them. 

Tino didn’t want Rosie exposed to a Michael and Starling showdown just yet. Things tended to get ugly. 

“Give up! St. Canard’s hydroelectric dam belongs to us!” Dan shouted, a sinister cackle escaping from his throat. 

“You’ll pay for stealing electricity and throwing St. Canard into the Dark Ages!” Starling retorted. “Let’s get dangerous!” 

The prop team immediately dumped a bucket of water on Starling from the catwalk above the set, throwing the bucket at him for good measure. They didn’t bother disguising their gleeful smiles. 

Starling spat out several plastic goldfish, coughing as he declared how pathetic the attack was. Then Jack crept up behind Starling and threw a quick punch to the back of his head. Starling crumpled dramatically. 

Rosie frowned as Jack tied Starling to a pole with a water hose. “I hope he isn’t hurt,” she said. Her fingers nervously drummed against her pink dress. 

“Unfortunately,” Michael muttered. 

Tino elbowed him lightly. “Starling’s a resilient guy. He’ll be alright. Besides, Darkwing Duck always wins.” 

Starling slipped out of his restraints, which were already loose to begin with, and shot a column of smoke from his gas gun at Dan and Jack. Their surprise only lasted for a minute, but it was enough for Starling to subdue them. 

“And the vigilante is once again victorious against the vile villainous scum!” Starling crowed as he tossed Dan and Jack into the set’s jail cell. He struck a final heroic pose to wrap up the episode. 

While the film crew reviewed the footage they captured so far, Starling strutted off the main set and grabbed a soda from a nearby drink cooler. He didn’t free Dan and Jack from the cell even though the key hung on a peg several feet away. 

Pushing down a burst of anger at Starling’s carelessness, Tino left Rosie with Michael and freed his friends himself.  

“I need an aspirin,” Dan groaned, nursing a bruise on his cheek.

Jack folded his arms across his chest, not looking too worse for wear, but Tino could tell he favored his right leg.

“I should invent an instant healing ray gun,” Dan sighed. “No more bruises, cuts, or pimples and it won’t leave a scar either.”

“A huge hit on the market,” Tino said.

“Supply and demand,” Jack added.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Not all of us majored in economics.”

As they rejoined Rosie and Michael, Starling sauntered over. His fedora was pulled low and tilted sideways in his usual careless, jerkwad fashion. The edges of his beak curled into a sneer.

“It’s awfully nice to have coworkers who allow a little brat to steal my thunder,” Starling growled.

“Don’t call Rosie a brat!” Michael shouted, clenching his fists. Dan stepped in front of him, whispering soothing words to prevent him from punching Starling in the face. “You don’t know her. You don’t know her at all!”

Tino shielded Rosie behind his back. She clung to his waist, innocent green eyes flickering between each adult. He couldn’t meet Starling with equal aggression, remain calm and cordial, or invoke a balance between the two extremes.

This would have to do for now.

“None of us played a role in Dabble’s decision,” Jack said. His tone was even and controlled, but Tino heard the slightest edge of steel creeping in. “I suggest releasing your frustration towards him in the studio’s gym instead.” 

Starling’s cape flared out as he stomped up to Jack. His beak was several inches away from Jack’s nose. “And where exactly were your so-called diplomatic skills when I needed them? Either the fans come and see me because I’m there, or they don’t show up cause I’m not. Who’s the main character of this series? Who’s the person everyone watches the show for? Who’s the inspiration, the fighter, the creme de la creme of all superheroes? Cause last I checked, it sure as hell isn’t Liquidator!” 

Starling always referred to them by their character names. He couldn’t be bothered to remember their actual names, or more importantly, that they weren’t megalomaniacal villains. 

“Go away,” Dan said as held onto a seething Michael. “Some of us have lives outside a fictional world.” 

“Darkwing isn’t fictional, you half-wit!” Starling snarled. “He’s—I’m right in front of you!” 

Starling pointed an accusing finger at Dan, but a grimace flickered across his face and his arm fell to his side. 

“You’re hurt!” a little girl’s voice cried. 

The tiny pressure around Tino’s waist vanished. 

Before anyone could say anything, Rosie latched onto Starling’s fingers, holding his palm with one hand while the other carefully pushed his sleeves away from his wrist.

Michael’s eyes widened, Dan gasped, and Jack’s brow furrowed in worry. 

Tino bit the inside of his beak. 

Rosie had broken Starling’s no-touching-me-offset rule. Everyone agreed with this rule, no matter how much they disliked Starling. 

No hugs, no pats on the back, no friendly jostling, no handshakes. 

Starling hated physical contact unless it involved beating someone up during filming. Nobody asked why, and Starling never offered an explanation. 

A red mark circled Starling’s wrist. Starling’s breath hitched, looking as though he desperately wanted to pull away but couldn’t make his body move. 

“You should put some aloe on it,” Rosie suggested. “It’ll sting, but it takes the pain away.” 

Starling didn’t seem to hear her. 

“Rosie, let him go,” Jack ordered. 

Rosie cast an unsure glance at Starling’s wrist. 

“Now.” 

Startled by Jack’s no-nonsense tone, Rosie let go of Starling’s hand. 

Recovering from his frozen state, Starling scoffed and rubbed his wrist against his blazer to shake off any lingering traces of her touch. “Whatever,” he muttered as he stalked off. 

“Mr. Starling?” Rosie called. 

Starling paused in the doorway, inclining his head towards Rosie. His eyes were covered by the brim of his fedora. 

“I’m sorry,” Rosie whispered. 

“Don’t do it again, kid.” 

Though his tone was blunt, it wasn’t haughty or condescending. 

Maybe there was some cordiality in that universe-sized ego after all. 

                                           --------------------------------

Starling was talking to Rosie. 

Okay, so most of the conversation was about himself and how badass he looked on camera, but he wasn’t entirely ignoring her.  

Rosie clasped her hands together and maintained a respectful distance. She learned from the first incident, taking Jack’s lecture to heart on how some people disliked touch and a few tips on what she could do to respect their boundaries. 

If Starling noticed, he didn’t give anything away. 

Tino found his aloe bottle in the wrong cabinet with traces of green ointment on its side. Wordlessly, he wiped away the extra moisture and returned the bottle to its proper place. 

He had a hunch on who misplaced his aloe, but he didn’t think it was worth mentioning. 

Over the next few days, Rosie settled into a routine. She learned, she played, she voice-acted, and she ate lunch with Starling. 

Michael balked at the last development. “Girl’s gonna ruin her nose,” he muttered, shaking his head incredulously when Rosie barely reacted to the smell of Starling’s canned tuna and sauerkraut sandwich. 

                                           --------------------------------

Tino’s day to drive Rosie back to the orphanage rolled around again. It was the day before the meet-and-greet, and they’d spent the entire week preparing Rosie for her first public appearance. 

Rosie could answer questions and smile like a champ now. She’d do well tomorrow. Tino didn’t mind fading into the background and talking to the occasional fan who wandered his way. 

That’s how the Darkwing Duck cast did things. 

Starling soaked up everyone’s attention and signed autographs while everyone else formed a nice backdrop. 

Starling’s animosity to Rosie had lessened over the past few days. While he still wasn’t pleased by Dabble’s decision, he managed to grasp that it wasn’t Rosie’s fault. 

“Got everything?” Tino asked as Rosie slid a math workbook into her princess-themed backpack. 

“Ready, Mr. Tino!” Rosie exclaimed, slipping her backpack over her shoulders. “I don’t think I’d be able to sleep tonight. I’m just happy I can see all of you tomorrow!” 

Tino couldn’t help but grin at her unbridled honesty. 

“Bushroot! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Tino suppressed a sigh. Only one person called him Bushroot outside of filming, and it wasn’t a person he tried to interact with on a casual basis.

“Yes?” Tino asked politely, channeling what he believed Jack would say in this type of situation. “I need to drive Rosie to St. Canald...I mean, St. Canard. Sorry that we’re in a hurry here. You know how bad the Audubon Bay Bridge is during rush hour.” 

The corners of Starling’s beak turned up. One could call it a smile, but only with a very loose definition of the word. 

“Is your face alright, Mr. Starling?” Rosie asked. 

“What’s wrong with my-” Starling’s snappy mood returned for a brief moment, but he coughed and busied himself with smoothing down his clothes. 

Which consisted of Darkwing’s turtleneck and unbuttoned purple blazer. 

Tino was starting to believe that Starling had no life outside of Darkwing Duck. 

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Starling said. At least he dropped the not-smile. “I wanted to see you off. We talk at lunch, but that’s only an hour. Not even an hour if Dabble decides to rush us.” 

Rosie bounced on her heels, eyes glazed over in thought. She had a tendency to bounce while thinking. 

“Can Mr. Starling come along too?” Rosie asked, tugging on Tino’s sleeve. “He never finished his story about the malfunctioning jack-in-the-box in the ‘Knick-knack Paddywhack’ episode!” 

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea...” Tino trailed off. Rosie’s curls had gone limp. Tino wondered if she had secret hair powers. 

Starling looked a bit crestfallen too. 

If Jack, Dan, or Michael had been in his place, they would’ve ignored Starling and left already. But Starling was actually interacting with Rosie. 

Interaction that didn’t involve punching someone or bossing them around. 

Tino lost the battle. That’s what he got from looking at Rosie when she was nearing disappointment. 

“Alright, he can come if he wants,” Tino sighed. 

Rosie cheered and Starling puffed out his chest as if he never doubted that Tino would refuse. 

                                          -------------------------------- 

“-Darkwing Duck on the brink of defeat, nothing but open air behind him and a monochromatic malefactor cackling madly in front of him! Then he remembers how much the citizens of St. Canard depend on him to keep the criminals at bay, and in a sudden burst of strength, he clubs Paddywhack with his trusty gas gun and seals him in the cursed jack-in-the-box!” 

Tino concentrated on switching to the middle lane, choosing not to comment on  Starling’s deliberate omission of how he got stuck in the springs of the jack-in-the-box during the Paddywhack fight scene. 

Rosie listened attentively, eyes sparkling as she envisioned the scene before her. 

They hit the usual traffic on the Audubon Bay Bridge just as Starling’s tale ended. Rosie didn’t bat an eye. She loved seeing the cargo ships sail through the bay. 

But Starling groaned and tilted his seat back at a thirty-degree angle.  

“Hey bush-for-brains, can’t this seat go back more?” Starling growled, yanking at the lever in a futile effort to make the seat tilt further. 

“It’s an old car,” Tino admitted. “You’ve already got it at the max.” 

Starling rolled his eyes, but at least he stopped trying to mutilate the lever. 

Rosie swung her legs, looking towards the horizon, oblivious to Starling’s numerous complaints with Tino’s car. 

“Rosie, I was thinking of becoming your legal guardian,” Starling said as he slipped a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. 

Tino caught his eye in the mirror, but Starling either didn’t notice or care. Tino returned his attention to the road, trying not to complain out loud when another driver cut him off. 

Rosie’s head whipped around so quickly that Tino was sure she’d have whiplash in the morning. 

“You don’t wanna live at the orphanage forever, right? Living with THE Darkwing Duck is better than those guys,” Starling declared. 

After a brief moment of silence, Rosie smiled at him. “Thank you, Mr. Starling, sir! I’d love for you to be my legal guardian!” 

She reached out for a hug, but Starling just raised an eyebrow at her. “First rule, kid. Don’t touch me,” he reminded her. 

Rosie teared up, but she seemed more happy and relieved. “Mr. Tino, I have a legal guardian now!” she exclaimed. 

Tino knew she was equating ‘legal guardian’ with ‘parent’, but Rosie didn’t realize she’d just accepted a self-centered, vain, gloryhounding jerk who didn’t deserve either title. 

Tino wasn’t looking forward to breaking the news to Michael. He’d dropped hints recently about taking Rosie in. 

“I’m glad,” Tino said. 

He was the worst liar in the world, but Rosie beamed at him anyway. 

                                         -------------------------------- 

When they got to the orphanage, Rosie immediately broke away from Tino and Starling so she could gather her belongings and say goodbye to her friends. 

“Jim Starling, the one and only Darkwing Duck. There supposed to be a few papers I can sign so I can take legal guardianship of little Ruby here?” Starling asked the orphanage director. 

“Actually, it’s Rosie,” Tino corrected, shuffling his feet when Starling glared at him. 

Seriously, who took in a kid without bothering to learn their name first? 

But the orphanage director simply dropped a huge packet of stapled papers into Starling’s arms. “Just sign in the highlighted areas,” she said, returning to listlessly stirring her coffee. 

St. Canard orphanages must’ve been in worse shape than Tino realized if they were willing to hand a kid over to Starling without asking any questions. 

Starling took out a pen topped with a Darkwing Duck figurine and scribbled an enormous loopy signature in the highlighted portions. He flipped through the papers so quickly that Tino only had time to read the bold print on top of the page. 

“Wouldn’t it be better to read the page before you signed it?” Tino asked. The look on Jack’s face would’ve been priceless if he’d been here. 

Jack’s biggest pet peeve was how people never read the fine print before they signed a document.  

Starling huffed. “You wanna be here all night?” 

“Well, no-” 

“Then shut up and let me sign this in peace.” 

Thankfully, the next page asked for name, date of birth, address, and the usual things that were asked on important forms, forcing Starling to slow down. 

Tino’s leg bounced as watched the clock. The hands crept towards five-thirty. Rosie would need to eat soon. 

And Starling’s usual dietary habits shouldn’t be passed onto any six-year-old. 

“Do you even know how to take care of a kid?” Tino asked. 

Starling’s hand clenched around the pen. A glob of blue ink stained the paper. Starling tried to rub it away, but only succeeded in smearing it across his hand. 

“Can’t be that hard,” Starling shrugged. “She gets food, a place to sleep, a stuffed animal or two, and a famous actor for her legal guardian. She could use someone to help her navigate the adoring public anyway.” 

“And caring about her?” Tino asked. “Love, attention, guidance, school?” 

Starling rolled his eyes. “Look, I give her a roof over her head and she doesn’t need to share her stuff with a bunch of other snot-nosed brats. She can run and play and hang with you and everyone else. She can go wherever she wants or do whatever she wants.” 

Starling signed the last document with a flourish and set the clipboard aside. 

Tino gritted his teeth, but there was nothing he could do to counteract Starling. 

                                          -----------------------------------

Starling’s apartment was several blocks away from the studio, and judging by the amount of dust that had accumulated over the furniture, it hadn’t been lived in for a while. 

Tino delayed going home in favor of helping Rosie unpack and settle in, cleaning the lonely, secluded guest room until it was suitable to sleep in. Tino dressed a spare mattress in a Darkwing Duck bedspread, pushing down a pang of anger at Starling for his lack of preparation when it came to bringing a kid home. 

Speaking of which, wasn’t it the guardian’s job to make a kid feel at home? 

Rosie hadn’t complained once, but that didn’t make it right. 

Tino probably would’ve stayed all night, but he was booted out after he disagreed with Starling’s decision to feed Rosie an unhealthy Hamburger Hippo kids’ meal. 

                                          -----------------------------------

Tino didn’t get home until eight in the evening, and the rice and bean plate Jack had left for him in the fridge tasted like cardboard. 

“You missed Pelican Island,” Dan said as he fiddled with a blender-like invention. “They almost got off the island, but then Dahlia found out that Georgio kissed Valerie and they broke the sail in their fight and all of Mason’s progress got set back by three weeks. Then they look in the almanac and find there’s a monsoon heading their way so now they have to delay leaving the island and find shelter as soon as possible cause the rains are gonna hit in less than a week-” 

Tino listened to Dan ramble about the show, focusing on his commentary and allowing Starling’s legal guardian status to slip his mind for the time being. Tino wanted to break the news gently and hopefully minimize any casualties that might ensue, but he’d need time to work on framing his words so that nobody thought it was the end of the world.

Jack leaned against the doorframe, coolly staring at Tino. Finishing his dinner quickly, Tino scraped the remaining crumbs into the trash and took much longer than necessary to wash the dishes, feeling Jack’s eyes bore into his back the entire time. 

Jack never pushed the issue, but he always had the uncanny ability to sniff out a lie. 

Dan and Michael were locked in a heated debate over who Georgio was better off with, suspecting nothing out of the ordinary. 

                                            -----------------------------------

The meet and greet started at noon, but they arrived at the venue an hour early to help the film crew set everything up. 

Dabble had reserved a section of Barks Park for their public appearance. It was a good park with plenty of grassy hills, a playground, and a bike trail. 

It was popular for family outings, Tino recalled, hoping to spot Rosie’s red curls among a group of children who were playing soccer nearby. 

But there was no sign of Starling or Rosie. 

Starling always arrived later than everyone else so all the attention would be drawn to him. Tino just hoped that Rosie didn’t adopt Starling’s compulsive need to be fashionably late. 

“Places, everybody!” Dabble barked. “That means you, Michael!” 

“I’m in the middle of something!” Michael called as he twisted a green balloon into a sword for an excited boy. 

“Put that helium pump away and get your jester butt over here!” 

Michael rolled his eyes, but he did a handspring-cartwheel combination that propelled him to his seat and wowed his young audience. 

The Fearsome Four’s table was on the right end of the gazebo, while the writers and artists’ table was to the left. The table in the middle had two empty chairs. 

“Wait, we can’t start yet! Where’s Rosie?” Dabble shouted once noon hit. He tapped his watch in frustration. 

“It was my day to pick her up,” another director admitted. “But I called the orphanage and they said Rosie doesn’t live there anymore.” 

“What?” Dabble cried, tearing several white feathers from his head. “Then where does she live now?” 

The director shrugged. “I asked, but some kid knocked over her coffee cup and she hung up to deal with them.” 

Tino’s hands clenched in his lap. Sooner or later, someone would remember that he dropped Rosie off last night and put two and two together-

Jack’s hand came to rest on Tino’s shoulder. 

And Tino knew he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Rosie’s new legal guardian is-”

“I AM THE TERROR WHO FLAPS IN THE NIGHT!”

A column of blue smoke flared out. Several children tried to touch it, but their parents pulled them back.

“I AM THE CAUSE OF GRAY HAIR ON CRIMINALS’ SCALPS! I AM DARKWING-”

“Rosie, get up here! You were supposed to open the meet and greet ten minutes ago!” Dabble called.

Rosie nudged her way through the crowd, politely excusing herself as she made her way to the front of the gazebo. Michael waved, and Rosie returned the gesture, much to Starling’s disapproval. 

Starling crossed his arms as Dabble hurriedly gave a microphone to Rosie and whispered a few instructions to her.

“Are you kidding me?” Starling scoffed. “She’s not even part of the show! And you interrupted my introduction! I spend two hours ironing my cape and this is the sort of reception I get?” 

“You shouldn’t be wearing that outside of the studio!” Dabble hissed, gesturing to the Darkwing outfit. 

“There’s plenty to go around,” Starling scowled. 

“It costs money to make those-” 

“Shouldn’t we let Rosie speak now?” Dan mumbled. 

Rosie held the microphone loosely in one hand, the other nervously fiddling with a ribbon on her dress. For all the preparation they did, Rosie wasn’t experienced enough to handle an argument between Starling and Dabble. 

Starling snatched a spare microphone from the writers’ table. “Well, as much as I love verbally sparring with Babble here, I just want to take a few minutes to address something of the utmost importance.” 

“They’re kids,” Michael hissed. “They’re not interested in whatever you have to say.” 

True to Michael’s prediction, several kids left the audience to pursue more fun activities.

“As a man of action, Darkwing Duck always seeks opportunities to eliminate criminal scum and rescue innocents,” Starling declared. Tino could just imagine his pompous beak growing Pinocchio-style. “And of course, I’m Darkwing Duck, so I believe it’s time for me to put my lessons into practice. And what better way to do that, I wonder, then to become a legal guardian to a talented St. Canard orphan?” 

Michael gripped the tablecloth, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “He didn’t...” 

“I’m Rosie King-Fisher’s legal guardian,” Starling grinned. He bowed, expecting applause and praise. 

But Starling’s words seemed to go over the children’s heads. But the parents understood, shooting venomous glares at Starling as they steered their children elsewhere. 

“Hey! Where’s everyone going?” Starling called. He looked genuinely baffled that nobody was interested in the meet and greet anymore. “Seriously, isn’t this usually considered a good deed or something?” 

An empty water bottle smacked Starling in the face, and Tino silently thanked whoever threw it at him. 

Michael’s face turned a brilliant shade of red, and Dan was forced to hold him back as he screeched profanities to Starling’s face. Starling yelled back, and most of the backstage crew was too dumbfounded to interfere. 

Between calming Michael down, berating Starling for his impulsive decision, and Dabble trying to do damage control, Rosie’s presence was quickly forgotten. Jack gently pried the microphone out of Rosie’s hand. He took her by the hand, made eye contact with Tino, and inclined his head towards the gazebo’s other opening. 

The chaos allowed all three of them to slip away unnoticed. 

“Will Mr. Starling be okay?” Rosie asked as they reached a picnic area that contained several other families eating lunch and enjoying themselves. “And Mr. Michael?” 

She worried about Starling. 

Tino had never seen anyone worry about Starling before. 

“They’ll argue, but they’ll be fine,” Jack assured her. He knelt down to Rosie’s level, but he was still much taller than her, and she had to lean back slightly to make eye contact. “Is Mr. Starling treating you alright?” 

Tino made a small noise in the back of his throat. Starling never treated anyone alright. 

“He took me in,” Rosie said. “He’s kind of grumpy, but he did microwave me frozen waffles. We never got waffles at the orphanage. It was just oatmeal.” 

She spoke as if everything were really that simple. And to her, maybe it was.

“Are you happy?” Jack inquired. 

Rosie smiled. “Yes, sir. I’m happy to have all of you care for me.” 

There was a tiny twitch in Jack’s shoulders. 

Jack probably debated taking Rosie in too, but his logical mind drove him to question the expenses and sacrifices it would take. It wasn’t just Michael and Dan who toyed with the idea. 

And Tino had entertained it too, Multiple times. 

“Rosie, why don’t you go play?” Tino suggested. “It’s a nice park. Run around and have fun.” 

“Are you sure?” Rosie asked. 

“Jack and I have to talk,” Tino said gently. “We’ll stay here if you need us though.” 

At Jack’s encouraging nod, Rosie hugged them both and ran off to play. 

                                       ----------------------------------- Moments later, Rosie joined a game of tag and was having the time of her life. Confident that she’d be fine, Tino and Jack settled at a picnic table under the shade of a sturdy oak. 

“You knew the entire time,” Jack said. It was a statement, not a question. “Starling became Rosie’s legal guardian yesterday.” 

“Yes. Starling mentioned it in the car and Rosie agreed immediately,” Tino admitted. 

Jack didn’t reply. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him,” Tino whispered. “Rosie seemed so happy though. I think she just wanted someone to get her out of the orphanage. It didn’t matter who.”

“You work with Starling. You know how he disrespects everyone,” Jack snapped. “Waffles and giving someone a place to stay doesn’t make him a good guardian overnight. And you just...didn’t say anything?” 

“Please, every time Michael brought up adopting Rosie, you said something about not having an adequate guest room for her,” Tino shot back. 

“Starling knew you wouldn’t say anything because you’re such a pushover! He deliberately targeted you!” Jack shouted, drawing everyone’s attention to them.  

Tino ducked his head, waiting until everyone lost interest and returned to their lunch. While he was more embarrassed from the sudden scrutiny, Jack seemed to interpret the motion as more of a guilty expression. 

Jack moved to Tino’s side of the table, wrapping his arms around Tino’s shoulders in a sideways hug. “Sorry, Tino. I didn’t mean that. I swear I didn’t,” he said frantically. 

Jack rarely stumbled over his words, so Tino knew that the entire situation had gotten to Jack’s head. 

“I’m alright,” Tino said quietly. “Guess we’ve gotta stop beating around the Bushroot now, huh?” 

“You’re never gonna let me live that pun down, are you?” Jack sighed, but his lips were twitching upward. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

They watched Rosie for a while. Her pink dress was caked in grass stains and there was a leaf in her hair, but she was radiating happiness with every spring in her step. 

“Rosie deserves to be happy,” Jack said. “I wish we could’ve said something sooner.”

“She is happy,” Tino assured him. “Didn’t you hear her? She’s happy we care about her.” 

“But does Starling care about her? As more than a publicity stunt?” Jack asked. 

“I don’t know,” Tino shrugged. “Starling’s a hard guy to figure out. If he does care about her, maybe he could be a better person. If he doesn’t, then we’ll keep our home open to her so she won’t be alone.” 

“We’ll have to figure out that guest room.” 

“You’re planning to drag us all to the store to look at paint swatches for an entire afternoon, aren’t you?” 

“Guilty as charged.” 

Rosie shouted in joy as she tagged another girl and darted away before she could be caught again. She looked just like any other six-year-old instead of the little orphan girl. 

Though she could probably do with clothes meant for playing in, Tino noted. 

A rustle of the leaves from the leaves above him caught his eye. Curious, Tino peered up into the branches of the oak. There was a dark shape leaning against the crook of a thick branch and trunk. It was hidden from everyone else’s view, concealed by the verdant leaves. 

Though his eyes were concealed by the brim of his hat, Tino could see a ghost of a smile forming on his beak.