Sometimes, hidden away in his greenhouse on the outskirts of Saint Canard, Bushroot would take time to stop and contemplate.

Life had a funny way of throwing Dr. Bushroot curve balls. It started with having an opportunity to work at the local university- doing the work he had always dreamed of- only to be the laughing stock of the science department; which of course led to being FIRED from said department. And that leaving to him experimenting on himself out of desperation. But he had been successful! His experiment did exactly what it was supposed to- he was able to survive off the sun… just not in the way he had originally visioned or intended. Then there was, of course, the horrible luck of having the sweetest woman in the city - no, the world!- fall prey to the LIES presented about him by the media and that no good Darkwing Duck. Painting poor Reginald Bushroot into a monster, leaving him an outcast. A very lonely, and a very miserable cast. An outcast that if maybe he was a LITTLE bitter- enough to try and ruin Christmas, even- it was all because he was made that way by others being cruel and showing the mutant plant-duck that he would forever be the universe's punching bag.

He also thought dating a potato was a good idea at one point, but Bushroot didn't like thinking about Posy and it would rather be forgotten.

'Though,' he thought to himself, 'I guess I'm not COMPLETELY alone.'

It was true, he did have his plants and his venus-flytrap bodyguard- more of a pet, really- named Spike. But what he had of them in quantity, and though they did their best to fill his void and want of companionship, they just didn't do so well in the conversation part. There was only so many times the scientist was willing to discuss how great the sun was, before he had his fill. And, not so surprisingly, he had reached it very early after his transformation- right when the newness of his abilities stopped being… well, new. But he couldn't blame the plants. It wasn't their fault. If that was all they talked about it was because they didn't know what it was like to experience much anything else. They had never been a duck, as he had.

So no, if he had wanted conversation, Bushroot found it elsewhere.

This thought caused Bushroot to smile as he thought about being a part of the Fearsome Five. While Negaduck was beyond scary and gave him the willies, the other guys weren't so bad! Quackerjack and Megavolt he had previously been introduced to, during one of his stays in prison. THOUGH, admittedly it hadn't been a pleasant first meeting- Quackerjack had been busy trying to use him to make his electrical pal jealous, and Bushroot didn't like feeling used. That, and he was pretty sure Megavolt still kept the grudge. However, joining the gang of villains was how he had been acquainted with someone else. Someone nicer, someone better!

It was how he met the Liquidator.

The watery, jargon spouting canine had been everything that Bushroot had ever wanted in a friend; he was nice, he was a good listener, he never made fun of him, and he actually seemed to enjoy Bushroot's company. Not only that, but the guy was everything he wished he was; powerful, confident, handsome, good with words... seriously, it seemed like the Liquidator always knew just what to say, on the fly, in any situation. Impressive.

"Yeah, impressive..." Bushroot sighed to his own reflection, as he sat slumped over a small lilypad pond in the corner of his greenhouse. One hand traced lazy patterns in the water's surface, his other hand preoccupied with supporting his head. Despite his heart being all a flutter, the eyes reflected back at him were full of a forlorn sadness.

His daze was broken, when Spike plopped his big head atop the stone wall of the little pond, right next to his master. The flytrap whimper-grumbled in concern, and Bushroot patted his mop of hair.

"Aw, I'm alright, Spike. Just a bout of love sickness, is all."

Spike lifted his head, and growled at Bushroot, incredulously. Bushroot frowned back at him.

"Hey, don't look at me like that! And this is NOT Rhoda all over again, thank-you-very-much. Nope, this plant duck has learned his lesson-" He paused there to sigh, dramatically, and slumped back over his pond.

"No one dates a shrub."

It was true. Saps like him always came last, especially when it came to the love department. Life kept throwing these wonderful people he would get close to- first Dr. Rhoda Dendron and now Liquidator- only for him to soon after get TOO close. From his side, only. It had been that way with Rhoda. They had only worked closely with each other for a week before Bushroot had fallen head over heels for her. And those feelings had only grew by the days of knowing her; and before he knew it, four years had passed the scientist by.

And he probably would have never let her know his true feelings, if he hadn't been fired. Or turned into a lyceum nycanthropus. Then there was the fact Darkwing Duck had gotten into the picture and mulched the possibility of there ever being anything between Rhoda and himself. Sure, it was Rhoda that had turned him down- a fact he was still a bit bitter about- but Darkwing Duck has been the infestation in their flowerbed, for sure!

But time had become a pesticide and the blossoms of his love grew anew. Now there was another he wouldn't mind sharing his garden with.

"Yeah," Bushroot grumbled to himself, " and my prospects aren't much better either."

Sure, he doubt there was a way that weedkiller of a duck could possibly put much strain on the friendship between the salesman and himself- both he and Liquidator DESPISED Darkwing, after all! Yet, there were still issues. Issues involving the fact the Liquidator wasn't looking for a relationship- and not one with a guy. Liqui had once mentioned having an ex-wife in passing, and that seemed proof enough.

"Although," Bushroot argued with his own thought, absent-mindedly scratching under Spike's jaw- the flytrap panting from happiness, " I only had interest in ladies before, too. Well, er, one woman. But, but things changed! Maybe Liqui could, if I-"

If he what, wooed him? If it didn't work on a potato, there was no way he was going to make it work on somebody as suave and charismatic as the Liquidator. Just face it, he was just too wonderful and Bushroot was… not.

"Oh, who am I kidding? He'd be scraping the bottom of a fertilizer sack," he wilted with a heavy sigh.

Spike wilted right alongside of him for a moment. Then, as if struck with an idea, he leapt up, and took off to fetch something. Bushroot turned to look, curiously, when he returned with his old tuxedo, and a single red rose.

"Aw, cut it out, Spike. I told you, it's a waste of time. Just like me."

Spike growled in frustration, but he had gotten through to his master, it seemed. Bushroot bent down and took the rose from him, looking it over, thoughtfully.

"Then again... I guess there's no harm in being nice to a friend whom you appreciate, is there?"

"Nu-uh, nuh-uh!" Spike agreed, shaking his head from side to side.

The mutant plant-duck smiled softly at the rose, as an idea struck him. Blue. He would need lots and lots of blue. Loads of it, oodles of it! He had most of what he needed already there, it shouldn't be so hard- he WAS a botanist, after all. But… he would still need a few additional things. Which meant leaving his sanctuary.

The thought surprisingly enough didn't wilt him, as Bushroot called to his flytrap eagerly.

"Hey Spike, how about a walk? I think we'll need to do some shopping."