Drake Mallard made it his New Year’s resolution to learn how to braid Gosalyn’s hair. Ever since she decided she didn’t like Pigtails anymore, her hair had been getting longer, more unkempt and shaggier. She always put it up anyway.

He didn’t even know where to start.

"I don’t get it DW, why d’ya wanna braid her hair? You never worried about that kinda thing before."

"I don’t know. I think she would look cute with a little French braid."

Launchpad was in awe. DW rarely had such moments of pure mushiness.

"Hey maybe there’s a book on hair braid in the library."

"What are you talking about? That is the most ridiculous idea I ever heard."

A few hours later he was at the St. Canard public library.

It would have to be a female clerk. He’d probably think he was some kind of weirdo. He didn’t even have hair what was he supposed to say. Hi do you have a book about how to braid a little girl’s hair?

He would look ridiculous. He would have to forget the whole thing. It was probably a bad idea anyway.

"Excuse me sir may I help you."

Drake froze, before he could think of anything to say it fell out of his mouth.

"Hi do you have a book about how to braid a little girl’s hair?"

He couldn’t think of anything better. He sighed.

"Hmm. I think it’s in the H 450s. Let me go check."

The Librarian walked from behind the counter.

Drake felt all the eyes fall upon him. It wasn’t like he was checking out old Playducks or anything; he just wanted to braid his daughter’s hair.

The Librarian must of thought he was some kind of psycho. Not that he could judge her expression well from the back of her head. What grown man in his right mind would need a book on this? He could see it now. Drake Mallard has a sick obsession with little girl’s hair. God he was thankful no one knew he was Darkwing, he’d never be able to live it down. Not to mention the Tabloids "Darkwing Duck has sick obsession with little girl’s-" conveniently leaving the part about hair out altogether. How would he able to face that down? That would look really good.

"Here you are sir. Here’s an older one and this is spiral back, with diagrams. This looks like a good one"

They really did make books on this stuff.

Drake Mallard wondered if he was blowing this whole thing out of proportion.

"Gosalyn are you going to bed."

"Why?" She was scraping a big thick comb through her hair. Sitting in front of her mirror making grimacing noises. She pulled the comb through once or twice and then gave up.

"Here Gos."

Drake picked up the comb and brushed at her head vigorously, getting out all the snarls.

Gosalyn sat humming in contentment letting her father touch her head. It’s nice to have someone to brush your hair. The other girls in the orphanage used to brush each other’s hair all the time. They rarely hung out with Gosalyn long enough to let them brush hers. They said she was weird and run off. She didn’t get along with them very well. She sighed contentedly.

Drake bit the bullet.

"Hey Gos, How about I give you a French braid?"

"What’s that? Does it come with chocolate and whip cream."

"No no no. It’s like a hair braid… only frenchier." Drake tried to explain

"Hmm. I knew a girl at the orphanage who could braid her own hair." Gosalyn said.

He placed the book under the chair so Gosalyn wouldn’t see him. It was almost beginning to wish Gos could braid her own hair. He looked at the diagrams in the book. They made the battle of Omaha Beach look simple. He crossed his eyes.

"Okay here we go. You take this piece here and then…"

He grabbed the two huge banana curls years of wearing pigtails had given her.

"And then you take this part here and twist it under."

"Oww." Gosalyn flinched.

"Does that hurt."

"Yes." Gosalyn said bitterly.

"Sorry, it’s I haven’t done it in a few years." Or never had tried it at all, same difference.

"What are you doing back there?"

Drake tried to determine the inscrutable directions in the book. It was like a yogi finger-wiggling trick. At one point some how he twisted together all off his fingers.

"Dad are you okay?" Gos turned around her head. "Ow. Sorry, I got a thin scalp."

"That’s okay Gos. Let me just." He grunted and tried to unstick his hands.

With a huge pop they were free.

"Man. This is so confusing. How do people do this?"

"I don’t know. I guess they just learn."

This had been a bad idea. Gosalyn’s head was hurting from him pulling, he was going cross-eyed from reading those crazy instructions behind his back, and whatever reason told him he was absolutely sure that every one at the St. Canard public Library thought he was a pedophile, he sighed.

"How did Momma do this?"

"Your mom used to braid your hair?" Gosalyn laughed.

"No." Drake defended "I don’t have hair."

Gosalyn laughed.

Drake ran his fingers through her hair.

"My Mom used to braid up my sisters hair every night, before bed. She did it perfectly every time."

"Well if you do it every night you’ll probably get that good too."

Drake reminisced aloud. His hand absently working through her hair…

"Grace would sit there and be chattering away, and eventually Momma would tell her to be quiet and stop fussing. And she would. Sometimes she’d fall asleep like a little baby before Momma was even finished. And Momma would talk to her about what had happened in their day and about all their little things. When I was two, it made me insanely jealous. On night I marched in there and sat on the bed. Ooh I was so mad I could have pulled her hair. But Momma put me in her lap and I wriggled around until I fell asleep. It’s one of the first things I can remember."

Gosalyn yawned.

"Well even if you don’t have a mom right now. I think there should be someone around like that. To braid your hair."

"Don’t be a dork, Dad. You’re really cool, someone’s gonna" she yawned again "is gonna wanna marry you some day."

"Thanks. You know this is nice. I don’t think I’ve ever told you about Grace or Mom or anything…"

"It’s okay I’m listening."

Drake didn’t even notice his fingers working as he talked about his sister. Gosalyn’s eyes dipped shut every once and a while.

"Gosalyn."

Gosalyn darted awake "I told you I’m awake."

"Gosalyn." He helped her out of the chair and into her bed.

He took one last look at her, and noticed something strange.

Her hair was all braided up, in a nice tight little French braid.

Drake beamed. He must have remembered it subconsciously when he was talking.

He shouted "All right. I did it."

Gosalyn woke up.

"What I’m awake. Tell me more about Grace, Dad." She wanted to listen but she was tuckered out. Her little eyes already heavy with sleep.

"I promise I’ll tell you tomorrow."

Gosalyn was asleep all ready.

"Good night, Gos."

He walked down the stairs to get ready to fight some crime. Who knows, maybe tomorrow he could try it again. He had always wondered how to braid a chignon.