An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Happy Holidays + (belated) Merry Christmas + Happy New Year to everyone! This is my @duck-secret-santa-2025 gift for @3rte! They wanted "anything Louie or Boyd related," so I came up with a little secret Christmas mission for them! ^_^
I hope you enjoy, and that you're having an awesome holiday season! 🥳😊💜✨
(Full story at link above and also included under the cut)
The Science and Scheming of Sneakery
Summary: Louie needs some help pulling off a secret Christmas mission!
--
“‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the mans-”
“Shh! We don’t want to wake anyone up, and we don’t need narration.”
“Sorry.”
It was a quarter past eleven, and the whispers followed each other down the dark hallways of McDuck Manor, down a seemingly random route of lefts, rights, right again. Each shadow felt thick, carrying a warmth only to be found on this night even in the furthest corners of the house, pressing against vistas of fluffy, quiet snow falling outside as they passed each window.
Louie Duck wasn’t taking chances this year. He’d had this route planned out for months, checking out the most remote hideaway spots when he was sure no one was looking, or even thinking about him. Not as easy a thing to pull off anymore with a houseful of growing teenagers.
He had recruited Boyd earlier to help him with a “secret post-bedtime stealth task,” after they had all gotten back from a Christmas lights walk in the Sabrewings’ neighborhood in the early evening.
The McDucks were going all-out on playing host this year for the holidays, with pretty much every single person who was part of their family, by blood or bond, being invited to spend Christmas at the manor. With how wide that net was thrown and how many people that meant, Louie wouldn’t be surprised if their mail carrier showed up for cocoa in the morning.
So maybe he was exaggerating a little bit. But that didn’t matter so much.
What did matter was that it meant a Christmas sleepover for all the kids, most of whom were currently nestled in sleeping bags either in Webby’s room or the boys’ room.
What also mattered was that Louie had access to Boyd’s unique abilities on the night he needed them the most.
“What is it that you need me to do?” Boyd whispered, his volume carefully adjusted to Stealth Mode.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Louie answered cheekily. He stopped in front of a nondescript door, the bronze of its handle worn from years of use, and eased it open so they could shimmy through. They were in a small guest bedroom, nothing particularly special about it save for a rather extensive reading corner with four bookcases and a plush green armchair dividing them, a book propped up against its armrest as if left there for only a moment until its reader came back. Otherwise, it looked like the room was simply waiting for its next occupant, something it had been waiting for for a while.
He continued, “For now, I need you to help me carry something, but first, you gotta close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“So you don’t know where the final spot is, in case I need it again.”
Louie knew it was probably a moot point even as his accomplice complied with his request anyway, seeing as how the room would be a quick search, and Boyd’s ultra-sharp senses could probably pinpoint his location to a tee – hiding spot was four drawers down from the top of the dresser, within a ruffled pile of blankets and pillowcases, in another pillowcase as a disguise, leaning towards the left side of the furniture – but it was the principle of the thing. Where’s the fun in a Christmas secret if you didn’t play along?
Targets acquired, Louie spun around and saw Boyd now covering his closed eyes with his hands, looking all the more like he was counting down for hide-and-seek than just waiting for him. He wasn’t quite tapping his feet, but rather almost bouncing in place, eager to be a part of the action.
The green triplet rolled his eyes but still smiled at the sight. With not as many years under his belt of being a real kid, Boyd cherished it all the more and threw himself into life with that much more gusto, something that even someone like Louie couldn’t help but admire and get swept up in.
A sudden, loud gust of snow from beyond the walls brought him back to focus. “Alright, open ‘em up!” he announced, ready to keep going, even as a twinge of vulnerability overtook him.
Boyd uncovered his eyes to see Louie holding two large, thick square presents, identical in size, one stacked on top of the other. The top one was wrapped in cherry-red paper, striped with a glittery, almost sugary silver, and the bottom one in a cheerful wintry blue, adorned with snowflakes and sparkles of various sizes. They each had an unassuming little label in their centers, marking them as from Louie, to Huey and Dewey, with love.
Louie fidgeted in place. This was the first time someone else had seen these gifts, even wrapped. No one knew just how much work he’d put into these, a project he’d been working on in earnest since at least the summer, and which included a matching one for himself, something for their own triplet-y Original Three. The reserved part of him was still insisting, Turn back now! Give them to them after, in a more private setting so everybody doesn’t see what a big softie you really are!, but he was more determined to see this through.
Naturally, after a moment of dazzlement, Boyd asked, “What are they?”
Louie chewed at the inside of his beak. One little step at a time. “I’ll tell you after all this, I promise. But…do you wanna carry Huey’s for me?”
“Sure!” The task of carrying his best friend’s gift seemed to appease him for now, and with the utmost care from both sides, Boyd lifted the top package from the stack.
“Alright, let’s go!”
The journey back to and past their starting point was way less of a mystery, with it becoming obvious that Boyd had memorized the route in the way that he fell in line next to Louie, and even took the lead around some corners. Still, Louie found it fair that the kid should get to be in on more of the secret than he originally planned. (He’d probably just look for another hiding spot next time around anyway, to mix things up – not that he ever wanted to go through this much work again for a gift, let alone two. (Except he already had plans for a gift for Uncle Donald’s birthday.))
They still cut an adorable Christmas scene, however – just two boys sneaking through the silence of the house, clad in comfy pajamas, hugging gifts close to their persons – and it was only enhanced when they came upon the landing of the grand staircase to behold the absolute splendor of the McDuck Christmas tree, backlit by the hopping oranges and reds of the fireplace in the foyer.
The tree itself, at least two-thirds the height of the room, had an overall uniform quality to its decoration, but upon closer inspection one could see where each resident of the manor had claimed their own section.
Webby had opted to drop in from the ceiling on a harness this year to decorate most of the upper part, including the star. Huey had tried to make a good impact on the areas that people would first see, using updated Woodchuck guidelines and the couple extra inches he’d gained since last Christmas. Dewey had found a couple square feet at eye level and placed both the sparkliest ornaments he could snatch first and at least two dozen candy canes into the small area. (It was best not to stare at his section too long, lest one fall victim to a sugar-vision dizziness - Huey had succumbed to the red-and-white forest first, staring into the depths for almost an hour before Uncle Donald found him.) And Louie had kept his part elegant and simple, opting for a “glitter and gold” theme that circled the lowest layer of the tree. The adults had filled in the patches with their own tastes, tying everything together for quite the beautiful, wonderfully chaotic centerpiece.
There were already a lot of presents under the tree – those from the family to each other, and for those coming in the morning – but it was clear that Santa had yet to arrive, if nothing else than by the clue of an untouched plate of cookies and milk still sitting on an end table near the tree. Louie noticed absentmindedly that there were also some tables now set up along the other sides of the room, covered for now just in festive tablecloths. Probably for whatever special Christmas breakfast buffet that Mrs. Beakley had planned for everyone.
Boyd started to move ahead of him, making to take that first step down the last section of staircase.
“Whoa!” Louie shouted through his hushed tone, heeding him off by stepping in front of him. “Easy, buddy! We can’t just ‘go in there.’” He gestured to the foyer now behind him with a nod over his shoulder.
“We can’t?” Boyd asked, tilting his head.
“Nope,” the green triplet confirmed. He then took on a guilty edge, gesturing and rubbing at his neck as he held onto Dewey’s gift with one hand, his eyes circling their surroundings. “See…the thing is…I’ve gotten a bad rep over the past couple of years for sneaking peeks at my gifts from Santa which is, apparently, ‘such a crime.’ Meh. Anywho, Mrs. B said that she put in lasers this year.”
Boyd perked up at that. “Really? Where?”
“I don’t know exactly, and I don’t know if they’re just a trip-sensitive security system or if they’ll singe me or set off loud alarms or what, but I’ve never seen Mrs. B act so mischievous in my time here. And just from one look!” Louie groaned and looked to the dark, far-off ceiling above him. He didn’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed with the (definitely-not-retired) spy’s antics, or both. And the one year he was trying to do something nice late on Christmas Eve!
He turned to stand by Boyd again, looking out at their final target, surveying the battlefield together. “All I know is, they won’t interfere with Santa’s job, so the gifts themselves and the area in front of the fireplace are probably safe, but best not to risk it. And that it all starts at this part of the staircase. That’s all she would give me. Other than that, I don’t know if they’re just floor lasers or a whole invisible light show out there, but we need to actually cross it somehow. Which leads me to why I need you tonight.”
Boyd’s eyes were just about starting to glow, his curiosity had been piqued so much. “Yeah?”
“First question: do you have any sort of special laser-field-detection vision?”
“Surprisingly, I do not. But I can recommend it to my dad!” There was a little, barely perceptible beep as he processed an internal reminder.
Louie was surprised at that. He himself had seen Boyd shoot lasers right out of his eyes, but he supposed there was a difference between having lasers and seeing external ones. He’d have to have a talk with Gyro and Boyd about the strengths of observation for adventures and missions and the like, not just running headfirst into danger all the time.
No matter. He came prepared for just such an answer.
“No worries. Plan L–” Like heck if he was going to let Mrs. Beakley even get near the name of this plan. “–assuming they’re just floor lasers, I need you to hold me and fly me over so I can put the gifts under the tree.” (He could’ve just asked Boyd to place them himself, but Louie had to do it – it was a matter of gift-giving principle.)
Louie was fully ready to be told off, that he was being reckless, to just wait until the morning to sneak the gifts in amidst the chaos. Instead though, he actually saw Boyd’s eyes sparkling with electrical, excited energy and one of the biggest grins he’d ever seen on him.
“An epic Christmas quest with lasers?! I am IN!” It was almost hilarious and quite amazing the contrast that his exclamation created when mixed with his Stealth Mode volume.
Boyd proceeded to stack Huey’s gift back on top of Dewey’s in Louie’s arms. Once they were sure they were secure enough for the trip, Boyd stood behind Louie, grabbed onto him, and lifted him into the air.
Thankfully (and Louie didn’t even realize how worried he really was about this until he let out a big sigh of relief), there were no lasers criss-crossing the airspace. He really didn’t want to become sliced duck, not in his own home, not on Christmas.
Boyd kept them moving at a brisk pace, but was still careful and mindful of his cargo, both friend and gifts. It gave them both a chance to really marvel at the beauty of the tree in all its shiny Christmas glory, tinsel and ornaments reflecting firelight back at them as they descended in an arc from the landing.
Louie heard Boyd utter a stunned, “Wow…” from above him, and was touched that he was getting so much joy out of his little mission. The duck found himself in equal awe, not just from the tree, but from the viewpoint of the foyer he was getting. He’d been through this room countless times, but just a little change of perspective left it feeling brand new, especially with its current decor.
Yet there was something missing, and Louie realized what it was when only the sounds of crackling fire, distant flurries of snow, and the muted whirring of Boyd’s robo-flying-inner-workings reached his ears.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
They needed stealth music.
Louie grinned and whispered to the boy above him, “Hey, Boyd! Can you play some Derek Blunt theme music? Still quietly!”
“Sure can!”
Within a few seconds, a deep, determined bass line started playing from somewhere on Boyd’s person, and Louie felt the urge to tap and groove with it, but settled for humming along. After all, he was still in a precarious spot, a reminder that the music was for his mission, not a movie.
They neared the tree, and Louie started calling out directions.
“Okay, more towards the fireplace! A little more to the left, and forward a few inches. Now just a little lower, aaaand…okay! Hold me steady here!”
Boyd kept his focus ever more so on his grip, keeping his friend safe from the mysterious, dangerous lasers (and from a faceplant into a pile of presents). He couldn’t quite see what Louie was doing, what with being above him and with the fringe of the gigantic tree blocking most of his view, but it seemed that Louie was determined to make sure his brother’s gifts were well and truly hidden.
“And now a little further out from the tree, please! Just a little more!”
Boyd complied again, figuring that Louie just wanted to check his work and readjust other gifts to suit his needs. Except…
It’d been a background measurement thus far, something he wasn’t even conscious of most of the time (like blinking for his non-robotic friends), but Boyd had a built-in scale and could sense the minutest shifts in weight. His sensors had measured Louie with both presents in hand, and then one, and then nothing. And now…now they were reading a completely different additional weight.
“Louie?”
“Y-Yeah?” He sounded like he was struggling to deal with some difficult objects.
“Didn’t you already place the gifts?”
His struggle seemed to solve itself and there was some rustling of paper going on. Louie, for his part, didn’t miss a beat. “Just adjusting things! I don’t want everyone to see these, y’know?”
“But you were four-point-eight-four kilograms heavier with both gifts, and then just two-point-four-two kilograms heavier with one gift, and now you’re five-point-seven-nine kilograms heavier and–”
“Relax! I’ll be done in just a second…”
Boyd had gathered enough data to come to a firm conclusion: Louie was trying to sneak a peek at his gifts, and was using his powers to do so!
“Nope. Nuh-uh. Let’s go!” Boyd declared in that still-cheery way of his, yanking the other kid right out of the moment.
“Hey!”
Louie’s volume was getting dangerously louder, and in the surprise and scuffle of it all, mixed with the smooth nature of pajamas, he started to slip from the robot’s grip. Luckily, Boyd caught him upside-down by his ankle before he could even register the sensation of free-fall – he was pretty sure he was going to get a bruise in the morning, with how tight Boyd was holding on for dear life. They flew back much quicker through the air, landing on the stairs again in an undignified heap.
They both sat up right away, Boyd checking his joints and Louie rubbing the back of his head, wincing and breathing heavily. Save for some of the pile of presents being in a different configuration than when they arrived, his mis-deed might as well have not even happened.
Louie grumbled to himself. Served him right for choosing the most frustratingly-good goody two-shoes to help him out. He chanced a glare at his so-called accomplice, but as he did, he caught Boyd’s eye, and noticed that the Derek Blunt music was still playing from somewhere on him.
The two burst out laughing. It was the kind of silly laugh that had no real rhyme or reason to it, no explanation needed, just kept them going until they were laying on their backs, all laughed out, breathless and absolutely giddy.
Louie sat up once again, still chuckling, and offered his hand to Boyd to help each other stand up. He then stretched and yawned, but had no intention of going to bed just yet.
“Wanna go have some cookies?”
“Definitely.”
--
“Were they even real presents for your brothers?”
“Of course they were! I can be good and bad at the same time, you know! It’s called good characterization, thank you very much!”
Boyd laughed at Louie’s overly-dramatic defense, the latter joining in quickly enough.
They had made their way into the kitchen, giggling and shushing each other the whole way through and trying to outpace each other in mini sprints of speedwalking. Needless to say, their spirits were high.
With a proper snowstorm now keeping them company amid dim lighting, Boyd sat at the kitchen island, swinging his feet back and forth, while Louie produced a covered batch (out of many for tomorrow) of Mrs. Beakley’s Christmas cookies. He set them in front of Boyd along with a couple of glasses and nudged the napkin holder over to him, then walked over to the fridge and opened it up, something immediately catching his eye.
Boyd was peeling back the cellophane on the cookies when he came back and set a carton of milk on the surface. He then produced a second drink, from behind his back.
“Here,” Louie muttered bashfully, pushing a can of cherry Pep at him. His last cherry Pep (until Mrs. Beakley got more). “This is for you, for helping me out tonight.”
Boyd looked from the drink up to him, his eyes sparkling again that night, softer this time. “Are you sure?” Even if it hadn’t been the last Pep, Louie’s penchant for the cherry ones in particular was known far and wide across Duckburg. Him sharing any cherry Pep was definitely a Big Deal.
“I’m sure.”
Louie was surprised by how quickly Boyd moved to catch him with a sudden oomph! of a hug, but he returned it just as quickly, smiling and patting him on the back a few times before they each took their respective seats. Huey was right – Boyd really was one of the best hug-givers.
“So…” Boyd began, surveying the cookies for the best ones to choose, “what were those presents?”
Louie blew out a little breath, catching the tips of his bangs with it. He figured Boyd was going to save the Pep for later, so he worked on pouring milk into both glasses, taking his time. It really wasn’t a big deal, he knew that, but he still felt…embarrassed and shy at how much effort and love and care he put into these gifts. He needed to plan a proper heist or something soon to restore his cool, laidback reputation. He took a final breath.
“They’re…scrapbooks. Special handmade triplet scrapbooks for Huey and Dewey, and I also made one for myself. I got the idea from all the ones Webby does – but I didn’t even tell her about this, so please don’t tell her, or anyone! They have a lot of photos from these past years especially, but also from when we were growing up on the houseboat, from Uncle Donald’s albums.” He took a long sip of his milk and wiped the back of his hand across his beak. “Man, do you know how many copies I needed to make at the copy store in town so no one would find out?”
“How many?”
Louie chuckled. “Eh, that was mostly rhetorical. But it was a lot for sure! And there’s still a lot of blank pages so they can do what they want with those, really make them their own.”
Sentiment aside, he really was excited about that part, to see how his brothers would let their own creativity flow. He smiled to himself over that as he pulled in the cookies that the other had set on a napkin for him – a Christmas tree sprinkle cookie and a standard chocolate chip. He took a bite out of the first one, the star on top vanquished in a moment of yumminess.
“Those are very thoughtful gifts, Louie,” Boyd said after taking a bite of his own cookie, a snowman sugar cookie.
“Thank you,” Louie returned quietly, a wave of warm fuzziness reaching his cheeks. He then added, “And thanks again for helping me with all this tonight. Just remember: it needs to stay totally top-secret until they open them! Complete mission confidentiality!”
Boyd straightened up again, eager to carry on with his secret agent role, and saluted Louie. “Understood crystal-clear!”
They laughed and carried on with their conversation and sweets, a moment of calm and friendship before the morning brought a front of chaos. They got swept up in the peace and coziness, until the distant sound of the grandfather clock in the living room striking twelve caught their attention, their ears listening intently for each chime.
When the final one rang, they turned back to each other and shared an easy, warm smile.
I’m not even a little bit late to @tealottie’s ducktales fashion week so don’t you DARE check the dates I’m watching you. Just hush up and take your Beakleys.
