Drops of Duckburg
By Miss Ang
(Very Special Thanks to JE Zison of www.disneywriter.com)
(Drops of Jupiter © Train)

Steelbeak sighed as he kicked back in his chair, tossing his suitcase on the floor. Feels good to be home, he thought. Feels even better to be me again. He frowned, looking out the door towards the eggmen moving furniture down the hall from the elevator. I wonder how *she's* doing?

Gabe swallowed, her throat tight for the third day in a row as she told the movers where to put her things. "Put the bed over there... no, there. And that..." She frowned as she sank onto her mattress, running her hands through her long brown hair. I don't know if I can do this. Live without any connection to someone who's become my best friend in the whole world. In the name of a job. In the name of my LIFE. It sucks. Everything's a mess. Nothing makes sense... She sighed, watching them set her boxes down, her dresser, everything that had once resided above the Goldeneye. "What's gonna happen over at the GE?" She managed to ask.

"It's being torn down," one of the more coherent eggmen replied.

Torn down. My life's torn down, too. I guess this is a move in more than one way.... She stood, then began to arrange her belongings. "You can go now."

For the next few weeks, Steelbeak watched as his new neighbor down the hall - and old friend - skulked her way down the halls. Or rather, he didn't watch. Gabriel barely left her room, and when she did, he didn't get the chance to talk to her. Once or twice, he thought he saw her wearing a suit... by the time he rubbed his eyes to double check, she was gone, and he'd been left to ponder this odd occurence. From what he remembered, Gabe never, ever dressed formally. It had always been jeans, a tank, and that damned maroon sweatshirt of hers. But he thought he'd seen it strategically placed on a bench by the stairwell, forgotten and left to anyone who would have it.

"Gabri-el," he mused aloud. "What're you doin' to yerself?"

Later that night, Steelbeak meandered into the employee lounge, only to notice a new girl sitting at the table, her hair up in a braided bun and a mug of coffee at her side as she looked through a manila folder. She wore a prim, navy blue suit jacket and seemed not to notice or acknowledge his presence. The stereo was on, its music lending a tiny bit of comfort to the cold room.

Now that she's back in the atmosphere
With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey
She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there's time to change, hey, hey
Since the return from her stay on the moon
She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey

"Uh, yo," he said uncertainly. "I'm Steelbeak... "

"I know," Gabriel replied, turning to look at him, her expression quiet, if not downright cold.

"What .... Gabe?"

"Gabriel, please," she corrected him, pulling a pencil out of her bun and correcting a mistake in the folder. "I really need to finish this. I'm on a deadline."

Steelbeak gaped silently for a moment, until the weight of his metal jaw began to register in his nervous system. "You ..."

"You have work to do, too. We've got a lot of catching up. Unless you want to take up High Command's previous suggestion regarding our gallavanting back in Duckburg."

"But what about Tegwen?"

"Tegwen who," Gabriel said curtly, furiously crossing something out in her files. "When are these typists going to learn that it's past, not passed...."

"But but but..." He stammered, staring at her in disbelief.

"Agent Steelbeak," she growled, standing up and grabbing him by the lapel. As Gabriel took a hold of him, Steelbeak's gaze naturally turned down, and he realized that she wasn't wearing a shirt under the blazer. However, he didn't have time to stare, because her angry glare seemed to pierce his mind and draw him towards her eyes. "If you want to die, fine, keep your mind in the past. FOWL is your present and your future. I realized it. It's time you did, too. We owe them far too much to be 'exploring our inner selves'. This IS our inner self. I hope you won't forget it again. Ingratitude can be a dangerous thing." Shoving him away, Gabriel sat back down in her chair, brushing off her skirt before returning to her paperwork.

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken
Your best friend always sticking up for you
....Even when I know you're wrong
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance
Five-hour phone conversation
The best chai latte that you ever had...
And me....

Shaken, Steelbeak blinked repeatedly as the truth and validity of her words sank in. She's right. But ... "Gabriel?"

She sighed. "What."

"Are we still friends?"

"......." Gabriel sat in silence for what seemed like eons. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, hesitant. "Yes, Steelbeak. ... I hope so."

Satisfied, he straightened the rumpled lapels of his suitcoat and headed up to his apartment. The sound of the break room's stereo followed him quietly down the hall.

But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back toward the Milky Way
Tell me, did you sail across the sun
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded
And that heaven is overrated
Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
One without a permanent scar
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there....?

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