#pkdt17

[adamarinayu]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Look who updated something for the first time in ageeees

Also guess who's feeling regret at how short they made these chapteerrss

[callme--starchild]

Meet-Cute

As an artificial intelligence, Uno could be considered the most advanced existing in the 20st century. Modesty aside, he could be considered the greatest project of Master Everett, and that’s why he could not feel more proud.

He was the soul of the Ducklair Tower, in the blink of an eye he could secure enough to keep his master’s secrets protected, be the eye in Duckburg’s sky and also polymath.

Very literally. Analyzing each camera, always active, the AI could be alert to any unforeseen situation on the streets of the city, and the network was not as protected against invaders as high companies thought — or, at least, not against invaders like him.

Anyway, he knew a vigilante who could handle adversity easily. And he was sure he wouldn’t mind protecting his home and family.

It is not as if I had done it for two years.

*

“I’m back!”

Despite not needing to breathe, Uno could feel how he relaxed when he heard the sole of the boots on the secret floor, Donald crawling with exhaustion and ignorant of the screech they cause.

“Welcome, honey, how was work?” But for some reason, Uno did not want his partner to discover that he was worried about him, so that, simulating the appearance and voice of a housewife mockingly, he made a chair and a coffee table appear.

Paperinik collapsed in the chair, dropping his cap to the floor, the intelligence being able to perceive at a glance the dark tone under the plumage of the superhero’s cheek and how he held his side making a grin.

“Bad,” he growled, trying to ignore the pain in his body to take off his boots, sighing with relief as he began to massage his webbed feet without bothering to remove the voice modulator. “I underestimate tonight’s thieves too much; they are currently in prison, but I think I’m not as dynamic as I thought after after two years of heroism.”

Uno sighed heavily before his metal hands began to massage the duck’s shoulders in circles. One of the disadvantages of not being biological is the inability of touch; but judging from the hoarse exhaled sigh, it was necessary.

“You must be more careful, PK. And listen to me when I tell you if those criminals are petty or not. Apparently they broke your left rib and twisted your wrist, but besides that and your bruised cheek you don’t have deep wounds, but I need to check them to make sure they aren’t  too  serious.”

Donald growled under his breath and, despite not being able to read his thoughts, he did not hesitate to access, finally withdrawing the modulator and the mask.

"You must be hungry after a busy night, Old Cape. Do you want to eat something specific?” Leaving the hero’s shoulders hesitantly, he arranged a small plate with chocolate cookies and a glass of milk on the coffee table.

It wasn’t a buffet, but it would keep his partner distracted while he took care of the medicine cabinet.

“I’m fine thanks. The important thing is to secure the wounds, and perhaps keep them discreet in Scrooge, Della and Duckworth’s eyes” still, he took one of the cookies with his healthy hand.

Opening the first aid kit, Uno could not help but roll his eyes. Despite the considerably good record, Donald was too relaxed for his taste, at least as far as his double identity was concerned, and he was honestly surprised that he agreed to be checked without thinking twice.

Perhaps the wounds were unbearable, he wanted to think taking the bottle of alcohol.

"Well, Avenger, I will need you to take off your suit,” he said abruptly, and smiled slyly when the man was about to choke on the milk. “I want to take care of the chest first, being the most injured area, but I need your cooperation. Besides, you have changed in front of me multiple times, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

And trying to ignore the rising heat at the soothing tone of his partner, he began to undress, drowning in vain the moans of acute pain.

Before the duck finished unfastening his belt — with Uno’s help given his crooked wrist providing more clumsiness, they both knew it would be a long night.

However, as an android, Uno felt that he had much to learn. In spite of the technological advance that was the tower, he could not say the same of the machinery and robotics even after eleven years since he was deactivated. Primitive, he felt that his master’s old suit did not cover enough screws and intersection points.

He would have to change that as soon as he left the tower. He was sure that he could not bother because a little money was reduced in his account, the economic benefit being the last thing interesting for his inventor.

Pressing the lobby button awkwardly, he appreciated for a moment his blurry reflection in the elevator doors. He recognized that having transferred his computer system to the body had been impressive, but having no total control of the tower as he wanted, he knew that going down one hundred and fifty-one stories would be a late experience.

Meanwhile, the android continued to contemplate his reflection. Certainly, it could be said that he had almost completely replicated the appearance of Everett Ducklair, being stature the only difference.

And speaking of that, he would soon have to decide which alias he could use, if he did not choose to be called Uno.

But while he was fixing the scruffy synthetic hair, a smile slipped on his face.

He couldn’t wait to see Donald’s face when he saw him.

*

Fitting the shirt and reciting what he would say once again, Uno’s eyes widened when he began to ascend Killmotor Hill.

He had seen it more times than he remembered through surveillance cameras, but he had to admit that it was completely different. He didn’t remember that he had big changes eleven years ago anyway.

He fiddled with the hem of his shirt when the taxi started up the hill. He knew that he also had his master’s vehicle available and the Duckmobile could be altered and his fellow hero’s car could not be distinguished, but installing driving programs and modifying the car would take time, perhaps more than it cost to build his body, and honestly he wanted to see Donald.

Probably his impatience was contagious.

That is probably why he quickly got out of the little yellow car, paying a fee and tip clumsily. He still had to master his new legs, but fortunately he was a quick learner.

"Save the change!” Uno could already feel the smile on his face once more. He stumbled, certain to be seen only by the taxi driver before he began to drive away.

It’s not like he’s going to tell Donald after all.

And speaking of, the android could see him through the slits of the gate. Turning his back, he leaned against the copilot door of old 313, apparently talking on the phone.

He must admit that he looked good when he was wearing a tuxedo.

“Okay, Della, don’t worry, I’ll buy it right now… No, no, I just got back from work, how are the kids?” As he used to do when he was restless, he began to pace in front of the entrance, this time playing with his jacket flap.

Uno’s smile became warm.

“What about Uncle Scrooge?” He stopped once more, putting his free hand on his hip. It was perhaps too gratifying to no longer see a bandaged wrist trying to be foolishly hidden, as well as a deflated cheek.

He could still remember to visualize how much it had cost Donald to excuse himself twelve years ago, even though it was such a banal thing like an Beagle Boys’ assault.

Until the duck finally caught a glimpse of him, and he grimaced without taking the cellphone away from his ear. Whatever kept the man busy, he knew that was not the reason for his scrutiny.

“I have to hang up, my boss is calling me. Be careful, I love you.” A smile peeked over his face, and he was sure that his gaze shone for a moment on the prominent dark bags under his eyes.

Anyway, those moments were ephemeral. As soon as the call ended, he did not answer his boss’, who was probably already waiting for him.

As if it were a wasted candle, his partner’s gaze went out again, and his frown returned.

He knew he couldn’t blame him.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?!” This time addressing him, the robot noticed Donald’s tense shoulders, “if you come to see Scrooge McDuck do it another time, he isn’t here at this moment.”

It made him look like the thirties he was now, and he disliked it. Still, he couldn’t help smiling with sneer. Apparently the family had gone on an adventure, and wanted to take advantage of that time.

“Is that how you get an old friend who just wants to surprise you, Hero?” Looking down and putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he giggled when he heard the aforementioned snort in fear, “I knew you loved me but not so much.”

Despite the sarcasm, he saw himself giving a small smile to his partner. His face was the poem he knew it would be, and before he knew it he was guarding the moment in his database.

On the other hand, Donald felt his vision cloudy, his throat dry and his sweaty hands, feeling like the cellphone slipped until it fell from his hands, the sound of the screen cracking invading the environment. He would recognize that look, that modulated voice wherever he went.

But that was practically impossible, right? Otherwise he would have to run to the houseboat on the humble patch of Car-Cans at his disposal, despite his trembling legs.

He had promised to leave that life behind, let the acclaimed superhero die as soon as he heard the triplets cry for the first time; and to date he had not reconsidered returning to it.

Head H could wait a few more minutes.

“U-Uno?” But, in addition to Gyro, he recognized that only one person, or intelligence, knew of the existence of that double life.

But he had literally seen him die, and he couldn’t cry it because the Spear incident occurred. No, it can’t—

“I’m really sorry for the delay, the Tower was reactivated a few weeks ago, and since then I’ve been rebuilding this body.“ Uno interrupted his thoughts, lightly rolled up his coat to show the intersection points under the synthetic feathers of his arm, the smile without disappearing from his face when he saw the astonished expression of his friend; “I missed you too, Old Cape.”

As if it were a trigger, that nickname was enough for tears to begin to fall freely down the duck’s cheeks.

It can be, he thought agaze and not bothering to wipe away his tears.

“U-Uno?” Finally he could speak after what were tortuous seconds, feeling his breath fade into a breath he didn’t know he had contained, repeating once more the name that he would not think to mention again.

As if on cue, the manor’s gate opened, and Uno adjusted the sleeve again. Despite the speed of his circuits, he could not react when the duck pounced on him, the untrained robotic legs causing them both to fall.

The Agency could definitely wait a few minutes.

“This is a dream, right? It can’t really be you.” Muttering in tears, he hid his face in the nook of the tallest duck’s neck. The android smiled sadly fiddling with the hair feathers.

"Did you really think you will get rid of me so easily?” If he had known that the feathers were very soft, he would have made a body with a sensory system sooner. With one hand he caressed Donald’s head affectionately and with the other he attached him against him. “I thought you had more faith in me.”

He was there, he really was there. And judging by the reaction of his partner, he knew he would not regret it. But now he would have to concentrate on finding a new benchmark for his database; He didn’t think he could tolerate being away from him anymore.

That, and mentalize how to answer the family’s questions as soon as they returned, because he had arrived to stay.