I disclaim ownership of the Darkwing Duck staple characters.

I give warning for any side effects that may arise directly or indirectly from reading my stories. Of course, there won't be any proof to lay the blame on me.

No actual parsley plants were harmed in the making of this episode.


Wisteria


Reginald stared at the fateful transmitter invention, sitting on the trolley opposite him in the kitchenette. Not for one second had he guessed such a result was possible.

There was a sound of shaking of leaves approaching the doorway.
"There you are." The giant Wisteria bush crammed through the doorway. "I don't know why I put up with you as much as I do. You're pathetic."
He jumped up, shaking. "I'm not! Give me a chance, I-I'll do something. Prove I'm good enough for you!"

The huge shape of Wisteria blocked out almost all the light as she towered over him. "You? What are you going to do, start selling fruit on the sidewalk? Rob another stupid jewellery store? Please." She swung her branches wide, knocking him backwards against the wall. "Why don't you face it, you have nothing any woman could want."
"But ... I made you ... Wisteria ... we're ... we're the same!"

"You're a waste of water, have you seen those bills?" She picked up a rates notice from the table.
"I ... don't drink anymore than you do. Perhaps ... maybe a different brand of ferti-"
"Get out! I don't want any more fertilizer, I want peace and quiet. All you do is talk, I'm ... fed ... up."
"Okay! I'll come back in ..." She picked up a pot of parsley seedlings sitting on the windowsill and threw it at him. He ducked and it crashed behind him.

"Get out!" She screamed at him. Reginald scrabbled to a stand and bolted for the door.


Reginald sobbed as he ran as fast as he could from his greenhouse. Successfully adding intelligence to a plant, and Wisteria turned out to be incredibly spiteful. He moaned. How could life be so unfair?

Something rushed past Reginald. He twisted about and something was glimmering before him. "What is that?" But he didn't have a chance to discover the answer. Darkwing Duck tore around the corner in pursuit and crashed headlong into Reginald. Together they tumbled through the glimmer.

They crashed onto the ground in pitch black. Darkwing scrabbled away from him, and a moment later he had a bright torchlight in his face.
"Bushroot." It was a moment, and Darkwing shone the light away, surveying the darkness.


"We're trapped in some sort of cavern." Darkwing considered.

Reginald meanwhile considered Darkwing's total lack of scariness in this place. The instant his attention fell elsewhere, Reginald had felt empowered. For once in what seemed ages, nobody was being mean to him. Then another horrid thought crept into his mind. "You don't think I'm a threat?"

"Well, I hardly think you should be, we're both trapped down here together, we'll need each other's help to get out." Darkwing paused. "Assuming you want to get out of this cavern. No light ever comes down here; that means you'd starve. Also, considering that you have no backup, no. I don't think you're much of a threat at this moment."

Reginald stood up. Darkwing Duck wasn't anything very special. He had a mass of tricks and training, he was physically able, emotionally psyched for battle, and had a few little conjuring tricks for showmanship. Comparing to Reginald, however, Darkwing Duck was just a duck.

The crime fighter took a step away and Reginald jumped him, coiling his vines around him.


Darkwing Duck struggled but Reginald just increased his grip on him.

"You'll die without light down here, Bushroot." Darkwing said quietly as Reginald stared at him with all his bottled emotions.
"I thought you said you had a way out."
"It's not like it's a secret, Bushroot. I can't just tell you and then you'll be free."

"What made you think I thought that? I may be part plant, but I'm not stupid. I just caught you!" It felt very empowering, to outmatch Darkwing Duck, alone. But Wisteria would still hate him, and after he killed Darkwing; then what?

Then nothing. Reginald sighed and let Darkwing go. "What a trivial thing it is after all." He frowned as Darkwing pointed his gas gun at him.
Then the crime fighter lowered his weapon again. "What's trivial?"
"The fight between us is trivial. And it never ends."

"It isn't trivial to me. When you commit crimes, you endanger others. You take away other peoples freedom, their rights, like the person who threw us through this portal. They just don't care about our wellbeing."

Darkwing turned away, "this direction looks promising, let's try this way."


Darkwing took a single step when out of the darkness came miniature snarls.

"What are they?"

"Garden gnomes?" Darkwing shone his torch, "Uh, no, try goblins!" He fired his gas gun, a net expanded, sweeping over a section of them, he reloaded the gas gun but hesitated. The goblins were closing in all around them. "Sleep tight." He fired the grenade near their feet and swept up his cape, covering the two of them, protecting Reginald and himself from inhaling the sleeping gas. "Okay." He said after a few moments of silence. "Come on." He pulled away from Reginald, and in the gloom of Darkwing's torch, he saw the horde of goblins fast asleep. "Watch your step."

"I didn't think ..."
"Shh!"
They put some distance between them and the goblins. "I didn't think those sorts of creatures were real."
"They're charmed to be a perimeter defence. I thought Morgana's garden gnomes were a touch excessive, I change my mind; that was excessive."

He swung the torch around.
"What?" Reginald looked around. "You stopped the defence spell."
"There's always more than one, and I'm hearing something."

Reginald listened. It was a growing hiss. Long ropes whipped across the floor like snakes. They sprang up into the air around them, circling about, wrapping the unlikely pair up like Birthday presents. Reginald yelped as the ropes toppled him over and dragged him across the cavern floor, Darkwing beside him.


"Welcome to my party, boys." The rope dragged Reginald up into a chair, Darkwing in the chair beside him.

"Tula, you won last time. You got exactly what you wanted." The strange witch came forwards. Her hair was brown and straggly and she looked like skin and bone.
"You fooled me. You lost me my victory." She pointed a long gnarly finger accusingly at Darkwing.
"Don't blame me; you probably cast the spell wrong."

"I didn't get to cast the spell!" She spat at him. "Without the rest of you, your feather turned to dust."
"Wait, it ... it turned to dust? Oh, no, of course it would." Darkwing's voice sounded strangled, as if she'd diagnosed him with a terminal illness.
"What does that mean?" Reginald asked. Tula snatched a hunk of petals from Reginald's head before Darkwing could even think to answer. "Ow!"

"I was just making tea." Reginald glanced at Darkwing who had a look of horror on his face. The crime fighter started to struggle against his ropes. Reginald watched the woman drop the bits of him into the small cauldron. She stirred it, and then poured two ladleful into a cup. She turned, and with that same equilibrium, she approached Darkwing with the full cup.

"No, wait," Reginald finally realised what she was doing. "I'm not edible!"

Tula grabbed the Duck's beak, and forced the brew down his throat. Darkwing had no choice but to choke it down.

She stepped back triumphantly. "This is my retribution." There was another glimmer that appeared at the wave of her hand. She gestured, and the ropes cast Reginald and Darkwing like tops through the sparkling air.


"Darkwing?" Reginald got up to his feet.

Darkwing fumbled his fingers along the ground before standing up. "We're ... back in St Canard." He stood up, "she's escaped".
"You have some strange ideas about priorities." Reginald looked into his eyes; they were already at full dilation. "Is it a bit bright out here?"

"I'm fine." Darkwing backed away from him and hit the wall. "Maybe ..." He gulped, tugging at his collar, "feeling a little ... hot." The Duck was already hot and perspiring? Reginald clasped his hands to his beak. Darkwing was definitely not fine!

Darkwing staggered along the street. Reginald followed him, knowing what was coming up next, he couldn't just leave. Darkwing caved to the ground, his hand to his chest.
Reginald knelt beside him. "This is awful."
"I'll be alright, I just ..." Darkwing grimaced. "When my heart rate steadies off I ..."
"We can't wait around till then; come on, help me." Reginald forced him back on his feet.


With some difficulty, they got to his greenhouse. The instant he'd helped him onto the bench, the greenhouse shook with Wisteria's voice.

"What useless thing have you dragged home this time?"

"He's sick. He's been poisoned with Atropine."
"I'm sure you had everything to do with that." Reginald cringed, shutting his eyes as she rained demeaning statements down on him. "You worthless, good-for-nothing ..." Then quite suddenly she stopped. He looked around.

Darkwing Duck was pointing his gas gun at Wisteria. He was sweating in the fever, Reginald knew he could barely see, his heart rate was erratic and he'd pass out any minute. But regardless of how sick he was, the crime fighter's hand was still steady, aiming the gas gun squarely at Wisteria.
"Do you love her, Bushroot?"

Reginald gulped and swallowed. He gazed, longingly at Wisteria, who towered above all the other plants. She choked out the light for anyone trapped in her shadow. On her exterior features was the cruellest expression he'd encountered, rivalling even Negaduck's. "No." Reginald answered in a hoarse voice.

Darkwing triggered his weapon, and a water bomb hit Wisteria. She screeched and wilted. In a brief while, she was dead.
"Where'd you get that liquid weedkiller?" Reginald squawked, looking at Darkwing in horror.
"It was under the bench." Darkwing pointed him to the horrific white bottle of weedkiller below. "And I always carry water bombs."

The fate deciding gas gun slipped from his fingers. "She didn't love you, Bushroot. Who else would have weedkiller in this greenhouse but you or her?" Darkwing collapsed onto the lab bench. Reginald straightened him up so he wouldn't fall off.

Then he examined the forbidden bottle. "Why didn't you use it on me?" He asked nervously, standing up to see him, but Darkwing was already unconscious.


"What do I do?" Reginald paced the greenhouse.

Spike watched him, getting increasingly dizzy. Reginald looked at Spike. "I can't tell the other Four." He started pacing again. "Oh, they'll just think I'm mad. If Negaduck found out, he'd kill him. Oh, heck, and then he'll kill me for being such a shrinking violet." Reginald stood in front of the unconscious Duck. It had crossed his mind to kill Darkwing Duck, back in the cave. Before he realised it had been too easy.

"... Thirsty ..." Darkwing mumbled.
Reginald picked up the watering can and filled it up. He realised, as he made his way back that he didn't have anything else to serve water in.

Darkwing grabbed the can and took a gulp from the top of it before Reginald snatched it back. "Not too much!" He tugged, determined to have it. It clattered, splashing to the floor. Despite being so sick, the crime fighter still had all his brute force in his possession.
"Th-thanks, Launchpad." He collapsed back against the table.

Reginald looked over at Spike, shaking his pod. Reginald took his best friend's advice and didn't correct the crime fighter.