Author's note: Things are picking up. A lot happens in this chapter, including the introduction of an original character.


Gizmoduck's head was whirling. He had lost track of Darkwing. Again. He called J. Gander on his elbow phone and apologized for losing the masked mallard. Hooter was gracious in his reply, but the director reiterated the importance of catching Darkwing before the police did.

With a twinge of guilt, Gizmo agreed and returned to the air. He scanned the streets below for another hour, but by then he figured Darkwing would have gone home to talk to his family. The thought of the Mallards skipping town didn't make Gizmoduck's job any easier... Especially since he wasn't sure how his next meeting with Darkwing would go.

Gizmo was pretty certain he could talk Darkwing into going back to S.H.U.S.H. if the agents didn't try to arrest Darkwing again. However, if Darkwing escaped and Gizmo had to pursue him again, there was a distinct possibility that he would need all of his suit's functions to arrest the crime fighter. And after today's flying and yesterday's activities, the Gizmosuit's battery was getting low.

Normally, he wouldn't worry. As Fenton, he could hang out with the Mallards and let his suit charge in the guest room. As Gizmoduck, he would have had Launchpad hook him up to the Thunderquack for a jump start. Plus he had a spare battery to swap out, just in case. However, with the homicide hanging over his head and his relationship with Darkwing already fractured, Gizmo wasn't sure he would get a chance to charge the suit once he got back on Darkwing's trail.

Deciding the best thing to do for now was rest and charge the suit, Gizmo ducked into a parking garage and changed back to his civilian identity. He walked out with briefcase in hand and headed to a phone booth to call the closest, and cheapest, hotel. After making a reservation, he called Ma'ma to let her know he was staying in St. Canard. Hearing her complaining about missing one of her soap operas gave him a sense of security as nothing else did. And right now he sorely needed that comfort...


Back at the Mallard residence...

Drake sighed and leaned back on the couch, ready for the day to end. He had tried steering Gosalyn around the truth, but she was not taking the hint.

"So how come the police were shooting at us if all J. Gander wanted to do was talk?" she demanded.

"I don't know, Gos," Drake admitted. "Maybe they thought I was Negaduck..."

"That's a lame excuse and you know it!" Gosalyn got up in his face, pressing a finger to his beak. "Now I want some answers and don't you make something up!"

"Gosalyn..." Drake warned.

She realized she was standing on his stomach, pinning him to the couch. She flopped down beside him, crossing her arms sullenly. He sighed again and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Kiddo, I'd rather not share this with you..." He raised his finger to still her protests. "But...I'm not going to mince words either. I don't have any answers right now. All I know for certain is someone was killed and I'm getting blamed for it..."

""Killed?"" Gosalyn squeaked. "As in, murdered?"

Drake grimaced. "That's the gist of it. I was about to get some answers before "Gristle-cough" interrupted Hooter. Now I'm not only "Wanted" for a crime I didn't commit, I'm also completely clueless on where to begin my own investigation. I checked the police reports, but other than the arrest warrant, there weren't any details... The newspapers haven't printed anything on the case yet, nor is there anything on the radio. I guess I'll have to find out what's going on with the rest of St. Canard..." Drake grudgingly turned on the TV.

Gosalyn gazed up at him out of the corner of her eye. As Drake flipped through the channels, Gosalyn laid a hand on his outstretched arm.

"Dad, give Darkwing a break for now, okay? I don't want you to get arrested or..." she gulped and continued. "worse. Not without S.H.U.S.H. backing you up..."

Drake smiled gently and stroked her hair. "I know, Kiddo. I've been thinking along the same lines. Until I know more, I'm not even sure if I have an alibi..."

Gosalyn hugged him, resting her head over his heart.
"Just promise me you'll stay safe."

He smiled warmly and continued stroking her hair.
"I promise..."


Fenton waited until Monday afternoon to check on the Mallards. Sunday night, he was simply too worn out to confront anyone. He checked in to his room at the hotel, plugged in the suit, and went out for a late dinner. His dreams were plagued with ninja ducks dressed in purple capes and Beagle Boys until the coffee pot started brewing.

As soon as Fenton sat down for breakfast, his boss called. Fenton had to explain to Scrooge why he was in a hotel instead of chasing down the museum robber. Fenton could tell Scrooge was none too pleased to hear he was taking a break from crime fighting, but Scrooge softened when Fenton explained the situation with Darkwing. Although Fenton was relieved to hear Scrooge give Darkwing the benefit of a doubt, and pleased that his boss would support him in whatever he needed, it didn't make his job any easier.

Fenton spent part of the afternoon waiting for the suit to finish charging while he paced the room. He couldn't help but wonder: number one, why would Darkwing kill an already defeated thief; and two, what did the diamond thefts have to do with anything? The two cases had to be related somehow. Fenton knew Darkwing didn't steal the diamonds. He'd been on the scene after the robbery, and they had both seen the guy in the ski mask run away and put up a fight. Besides which, Fenton just couldn't picture Darkwing as a thief. A psychopathic ninja, maybe; a killer, possibly, with the right motivation; but not a thief. Darkwing could have used his talents for evil long ago. And Fenton was inclined to trust Drake Mallard if nothing else. That guy loved his daughter too much to jeopardize her safety and the security of her home.

Fenton brightened at that train of thought. He would go to the Mallard's home and, if Drake was there, he would convince him to turn himself in for Gosalyn's sake. Appealing to Drake's fatherly heart would not infringe on Darkwing's oversized ego.

So two o'clock found Fenton standing on the doorstep to the Mallard's house, holding peace offerings. He had Hamburger Hippo for Launchpad, a game for Gosalyn, and a tub of pistachio prune ice cream for Drake. He also had picked up several special edition newspapers, just in case he needed something to shock Drake into his senses. The only thing he did not have on him was his Gizmoduck suit. For the moment, he was willing to give Drake a chance to surrender quietly. If Drake was even home...

Fenton craned his neck to peek through the window and rang the bell impatiently. He hoped Drake had resumed his normal life and not skipped town. He was not disappointed, for the door opened to a very flustered looking Mallard.

"Fenton! What are you doing here?" Drake asked crossly, his brows knitted in suspicion.

Fenton couldn't pretend he was here for a casual visit and Hooter's warning suddenly came back to him.
"Do not approach him alone... he's a potentially lethal force..."

Fenton cleared his throat, sweat pouring off his brow and staining his purple jacket. "Uh, can I come in for a moment? I don't want to make a scene in front of your neighbors."

Drake frowned fiercely, looking like he intended to say "no," but, after a furtive glance next door, he stepped back to admit his visitor.

Fenton saw the Muddlefoots in their yard, gardening and barbecuing and knew it would take little provocation for them to come over and visit. Turning down a caller was a surefire way to invite them in...

"So... where's Gos and Launchpad?" Fenton started casually, placing his peace offerings on the kitchen table and rearranging his hold on the papers.

"Goslayn is still at school and Launchpad is out. Now, to what do I owe this unwonted pleasure," Drake growled through his teeth.

Fenton flinched. He delayed answering as much as possible by putting the food in the frig, but all the grand speeches he'd prepared for this moment fled his memory. He decided to just take the direct approach and hope for the best. Setting a firm expression on his face and adjusting his tie, he used his Gizmoduck voice to address the scowling mallard.

"Darkwing Duck, you are hereby arrested on behalf of the City of St. Canard."

"What!" Drake jumped a foot back.

Daring to move closer to the stunned duck, Fenton placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry it's come down to this, Wingy. If you will please gather your things and come out to the car with me quietly, you can change clothes in the back. If this case goes to court, I might even be able to talk the judge into reducing the sentence."

Drake looked around wildly, and Fenton realized he might have made a mistake coming here alone. Could he stand up to the crime fighter in combat? He was pretty sure the answer was a flat no without the Gizmosuit, which he had left in the car as a gesture of good faith.

However, Drake did not take a defensive stance as Fenton half-expected. Instead, Drake shrugged off the restricting hand and marched into the living room. Fenton followed him warily.

Drake turned back to face him, his hardened expression unreadable.
"You know I won't surrender quietly…" he crossed his arms, his determination to stay put obvious.

Fenton threw up his hands in exasperation. "But Drake, you're a criminal now! You crossed a line with that incident the other day!"

The defensive mallard's eyebrows shot up, clearly shaken.
"What incident?"

Fenton pulled the newspapers out and held them up for Drake to read, watching him over his hand. Drake's face alternated between annoyance, genuine shock, horror, and something else… Fury? Fenton seldom saw such emotion in the other crime fighter's eyes when he was unmasked.

"Darkwing Duck: Hero or Monster?"
"Masked Marauder Turned Murderer!"
"Police Close Borders in Search of Masked Menace!"

Drake eyed the incriminating headlines with growing alarm.
"This is crazy! You really think that was me?" he demanded, his voice stretched.

"I don't know what to think anymore!" Fenton replied, his hands shaking slightly as he set the papers on the couch. "My gut tells me you're innocent, but S.H.U.S.H. wants me to arrest you! I can't just let you walk away, I'd be aiding and abetting!"

Drake held up his hands as he put more distance between them.
"Now wait just a second! I didn't kill anyone! I never have! I purposefully designed my arsenal to take down crooks as painlessly as possible. Which is why I carry sleeping gas, itching powder, tear gas, laughing gas, Plaster of Paris, tacky glue, chewing gum…The only things potentially deadly are the weedkiller and shears, and Bushroot regenerates." Drake tapped his jaw in thought for a moment. "Although there was a time I carried a machete after a jungle trek…and an ax and bow. Of course arrows serve multiple non-lethal purposes…"

Fenton shook his head. The past didn't matter at the moment.
"Sorry, Wingy, but I have my orders." Fenton crossed his arms. "I came as a friend, but if you continue to resist, I'll have to use force…"

"Pah!" Drake scoffed. "Some friend…"Let me in so I can arrest you in your own house!" Sorry, not interested."

Fenton squeezed his fists. "Oooh! Why do you always have to be so difficult?"

"Well get used to it, Robobreath! I don't need to squeeze into a one-wheeled trash compacter to prove I'm a hero!"

"That's it, Darkwing! I'm taking you in, even if I have to reveal your identity!"

Even as the words left his mouth, Fenton regretted it. The shock and outrage on his former ally's face, along with the knowledge that his own secret identity could be compromised if S.H.U.S.H. made Darkwing talk, made Fenton wish he could take it all back. Seeing Drake clench and relax his fists and breath deeply to calm himself made Fenton wish again that he'd brought backup. Gizmoduck had seen Darkwing lose it simply because he'd been offered help.

"I don't care what you or the cops say," Drake replied defensively, his voice leveling as he continued. "If my sterling (slightly tarnished) reputation and our past partnership don't convince you I'm innocent, I can only promise you this. You do NOT want me as your enemy…"

Fenton braced himself. "Is that a threat?"

"A warning. Nothing more, nothing less…Take it however you want."

Drake took two long strides forward, forcing Fenton to retreat slightly. The mallard seemed taller and more deadly than Fenton had ever seen him. The accountant wanted to melt into the floor under the icy stare.

Seeing Fenton's reaction, Darkwing's anger faded. His voice, when he spoke again, was soft and calm, yet the underlying darkness in it chilled Fenton nonetheless.

"Just so we're clear, there are a few things I don't tolerate from anybody," Drake said levelly.

Fenton nodded.

Drake's eyes flashed as he spoke. "Rule number one: never, EVER involve my family. Hurting me will ultimately crush Gosalyn. Whatever you do from here out, remember her."

Drake's face softened for a moment as he thought of Gosalyn, but the expression turned feral in the next breath. Drake grabbed Fenton's lapels, getting close to his face.

"Rule number two: this house is off-limits. I will defend my property for Gosalyn's sake. My personal relationship with you isn't worth two beans compared to her. I will do anything to protect that girl. Understand?"

"Perfectly," Fenton replied in an even tone. He didn't want to reveal his fear, nor did he personally want to involve Gosalyn at all. That was something they agreed on. Both heroes would do anything for their loved ones, even if it was illegal.

Drake studied Fenton's face carefully. Seeming satisfied, he released his captive.
"We will always be on the same side, Fenton. If you believe nothing else, remember that." Drake stepped back.

"What are you going to do now?" Fenton asked guardedly as he straightened his coat and vest.

Drake sighed wearily. "The only thing I can…"

Without looking back, Drake pulled something out of his vest that looked suspiciously like a grenade. Thinking he meant to kill himself, Fenton sprang forward in an attempt to rescue him.

"No wait!"

Fenton landed in a thick cloud of acrid smoke. Coughing and waving a hand at the fumes, Fenton groped forward, finding the smoke bomb. He threw it aside as he searched, but he already knew what he was going to find. Drake, and Darkwing Duck, had vanished.


Drake leaned against the wall, willing his pulse to slow. He'd slipped through the garage into a concealed trap door that led to the tunnel under his house. Not even Gosalyn knew of this exit. He had started on it last month while she was at the movies and he had completed it last night so that he could go to the tower even if someone was in the living room. He couldn't risk using the spinning chairs with Fenton there.

He knew Fenton might try to meet him at Darkwing Tower with the Gizmosuit. Drake didn't want to get caught at his hideout... or at home. He could see it now; Gosalyn coming home in time to see Gizmoduck hauling her pathetic-looking plainclothes hero to jail.

The fact that he had purposefully told Launchpad to take Gosalyn and the Muddlefoot brothers to the park to avoid this very scenario wouldn't soften the blow any for her. Most likely, she would go on a rampage and get hauled away by social services. Drake shivered at the thought. For him, that mental image was more frightening than any of his heroic battles had been...

He needed to find out what had happened. He didn't even know who he'd been accused of killing. The fastest way to find out was to get his own copy of the press release; one that he could read at his leisure.

Exiting through an old subway tunnel, he merged with the crowd. Picking up a discarded paper from the ground, he ducked into an alley to read. His thoughts were racing to put the pieces together.

Flintheart Glomgold, the second wealthiest duck in the world? he gawked. That is preposterous! Darkwing has only been to Duckburg twice, and I haven't been in years.

Drake continued scanning the article.

Hold the phone! Glomgold was incognito when he was found! Why, anyone could have knocked off the old buzzard! Why blame me?
Wait a second...What was Glomgold doing here in St. Canard? In disguise, no less? He should have been in a limo, meeting with business leaders and charlatans. Not in front of a store owned by his competitor in the middle of the night! Looks like Darkwing Duck needs to do a little investigating...

Drake tossed the paper in a dumpster and left the downtown area, not wanting to give anyone a chance to look too closely at his face. The intelligence of the average citizen may not be on par with his own, but it didn't take a genius to figure out he and Darkwing Duck shared the same profile. Only a handful of unrelated avians bore a resemblance to his distinctive beak and jaw.

Pausing in front of an electronics store, he watched a news broadcast covering the place where the body had been found. They were interviewing the store manager, who had little add, but took advantage of the coverage to play for sympathy. The preliminary police report placed Glomgold's time of death at 3:11 am Saturday morning.

With a chill, Darkwing recalled his own whereabouts that night. He'd been there, investigating the robbery at McDuck's Della's Diamonds store. He remembered now, the rasping cough uttered by the robber he'd gassed and kicked, and Gizmoduck's concern.

Drake staggered and leaned against a building, suddenly crushed by guilt. What...what if I really did kill someone...? He gulped at the thought. I'd be no different from the criminals I arrest! I've crossed the line. There's no going back now... But wait...That's impossible. I couldn't have killed anyone... The guy from the robbery was fine when he led Giz and me on that wild goose chase around town. He'd certainly been fast on his feet. But, what if he'd been nursing broken ribs and a bone had punctured his lung? That would have dropped him, and in the middle of the night, nobody would have been there to help him...

Trembling, Drake tore himself away from the building. He wanted to run to the police and turn himself in, just to alleviate some of the guilt and worry. But a part of him resisted the idea. He still wanted to believe in his innocence. He didn't have any proof that he was responsible, and even if he was, it had been an accident. How was he to know who was behind that ski mask? If he was locked up, he wouldn't be able to find the facts on his own.

He couldn't make any rash decisions now. He could hardly think straight. He needed to get away! Find a safe place to gather his thoughts and wits.

Darkwing Duck' and Drake Mallard's usual haunts were out of question of course. Even criminals would turn him in for the bounty on his head! And S.H.U.S.H. knew the location of his hideout as well, though why Hooter had sent Gizmoduck instead of sending his agents there in the first place was a question for another time. And it irked him. Enlisting Gizmoduck! Of all the insults they could heap on Darkwing's ego, that took the cake!

The only place Drake could think of that Gizmoduck and S.H.U.S.H. probably wouldn't check right away was Morgana's. Launchpad and Gosalyn would know to look for him there, and Morgana could shelter him. She might even be able to help prove his innocence, or at least get some of the facts that had not been publicly released.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, he blundered into a mugging. Literally. He ran smack into the mugger, disrupting him in the middle of pounding a pig in a bedraggled suit and giving the pig a chance to run away. Drake straightened his beak and found himself staring up at a growling dog.

"Uh, heh heh. Sorry about that little slip-up. I'll just be on my way…"

Drake stood and looked around. His jaw dropped. A dozen young men varying from troubled teens to small-time thugs he'd personally put away a couple times glared back at him, rolling up their sleeves and pumping their palms with their fists.

"Hey Scraps! How 'bout we have some fun wit' dis guy?" a rat said to the terrier facing off with Drake.

"Yeah," said a duck with a scarred bill and a bandanna over one eye.

The dog, Scraps, just growled, ignoring his companions.
"You just made the biggest mistake of your feathery life, Bud," he said. He dressed in a studded leather jacket, jeans, and a spiked collar with a beret on his head. From the size and condition of his scarred fists, Drake could tell this scraggly terrier enjoyed pounding people personally.

"How much ya got on ya there, Pops?" The scar billed duck smirked, holding out a palm while drawing a knife with his free hand.

Drake's temper got the best of him. He sprang up and latched onto Scarbill's flannel shirt, looking him straight in the eye.
""Pops?" I'll have you know, I've tackled criminals twice your size using only my pinkie finger! Ever seen your "Pop" do this?"

Grabbing Scarbill's bandanna, revealing a perfectly normal eye behind it, Drake wrapped the duck's beak with it. Springing back to the sidewalk, Drake yanked hard on his end of the bandanna, sending the duck spinning into the rat. Both slammed into a dumpster and fell dizzily to the sidewalk.

"Not bad," Scraps admitted. "But let's see you do your fancy tricks with this!"

Scraps threw a blue pocketknife at Drake. Drake dodged and it bounced off the brick siding, its blade chipped and hilt cracked. Scraps scooped it up with tears in his eyes.

"Awww. I can't believe I did that! My Pappy's eagle..." the terrier stroked the hilt lovingly.

Drake could hardly believe what he was seeing and hearing. Calling a knife an eagle? "Pappy" must mean the dog's grandfather. Must be a family heirloom... Uh oh...

Scraps glared at him. "Look what you made me do! You'd better hope ya got enough on ya to cover the expense of fixing it!"

"Uh, heh heh..." Drake turned his vest pockets inside out. "I'm afraid that's a negative..."

Scraps lunged. Drake dodged and jumped up on the back of his neck. The terrier wasn't much taller than he was, but he was heavily muscled. The dog groped for him. Drake covered his eyes with the beret. Scraps grabbed the hat in his teeth and yanked it out Drake's grasp. Squaring his shoulders, Scraps ran full-speed toward the brick apartment complex, intending on ramming Drake.

Drake twisted his feet up in the air and pushed off the wall, flipping unharmed to the sidewalk, while Scraps hit the brick. Scraps rubbed his head. Drake surveyed the scene and saw the gang members fading into the alleys. Apparently, they weren't too keen on helping their leader. Drake straightened his vest proudly.

"Yet another triumph for the monument of might and mystery..." Drake broke off as he noticed Scraps giving him a strange look.

"Ya know, you remind me of someone..." the terrier squinted at him.

This proclamation broke through Drake's ego, reminding him that he was supposed to be blending in. His courage failed him at the moment and his knees shook. Scraps rose to his feet, but before he could move or say anything else, the reason for his gang's dispersal became clear as a patrolling police car pulled up to the curb. Scraps fled as two cops burst out of the vehicle with their guns drawn.

"Halt!" one cop ran after Scraps while the other turned to Drake.

"You don't look like a street thug... Did you assist a mugging in progress just moments ago?"

Drake straightened his shirt collar. "If by "assist" you mean break it up so the pig in the lawyer suit could get away, yes."

The goose scratched his head in a way that reminded Drake of Launchpad. "Hmmm. Well, good work. I guess..."

Seeing that his partner was going to need some backup, the cop pulled out his radio and turned toward the alley,

"Stay right there, Mister, we're going to have some questions for you..." the cop started speaking into his radio, but Drake was already making his escape.

The last thing he needed was to be questioned and possibly recognized by someone at the St. Canard Police Department. They would have to solve this case themselves. He had more important things on his mind.


Later, at a creepy house downtown...

"Dark! What a pleasant surprise," Morgana yawned as she blearily opened the door to her daytime visitor. Not even her house guardians got up before six pm.

Drake took in her loosely hanging hair and lack of makeup and dropped his gaze, shamefacedly. Holding his hands behind his back and twirling a toe on the wood deck, he quietly tried to explain.

"I'm sorry I didn't call first... Things have been...kind of crazier than usual. I'm so sorry to wake you, Honeybunch, but I...I don't know where else to go..."

Morgana stepped aside, letting him enter before cupping her hands around his cheeks and looking him seriously in the eye.

"You know I would do anything for you, Drake. Even if it is a little on the early side..." Patting his shoulder, she gestured to her living room. "Why don't you take a seat..."
A divan scuttled across the floor to bump into the back of Drake's knees, making him fall on it.
"... And enjoy some refreshments while I tidy up a bit," she added.

She magically zapped her hair into its characteristic coiffure while a cart laid out with an innocuous-looking tea set settled in front of Drake. Morgana left before Drake could vocalize his objections. He glanced nervously back at the kettle and hesitantly reached for it. He squeaked when it rose unassisted and poured a steaming brown beverage into a cup.

Fortunately, the cup remained inanimate and Drake finally worked up the nerve to touch it. Nothing happened other than a tiny bit of tea sloshing onto his finger. Yelping from the heat, he stuck his finger in his mouth and brightened. Not a bad flavor...

By the time Morgana rejoined him, Drake was on his third cup and had even sampled a cookie. Morgana beamed, glad that her darling duck had finally trusted her cuisine enough to try it. She settled beside him and waited for him to speak.

He was more than a little hesitant; telling someone he cared for deeply that he was wanted for murder was worse than being pursued by a friend.

Taking a slow breath, feeling the warmth from the tea fill his frame, Drake looked Morgana in the eye.
"Morg...I don't know how to tell you this... I don't suppose you've been keeping tabs on the news, have you?"

She stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully before replying.
"You know I don't have cable. And newspapers never last more than a minute around the gargoyles... I'm afraid the radio frequencies I intercept are the only sources of normal news I get... Is that a problem, Dark?"

He wasn't sure if he was relieved or even more nervous.
"Well, no... It's just that I've been rather busy lately. Gizmoduck is in town...and he's trying to arrest me."

"Arrest you? For what?"

"Murder..."

Drake recounted everything he'd done and come across at the Della's Diamonds store break in, including his treatment of the crook. He then shared what he'd read from the papers and gave his theory about the jewelry heist being a cover for something that involved both the second richest duck in the world and Public Enemy Number One, Negaduck. He admitted that he needed help putting his theory to test and wasn't sure how to go about securing evidence when he had the cops, Gizmoduck, and S.H.U.S.H. breathing down his neck.

Morgana kissed his forehead. "I promised I would help you, Dark, and I will. The first question that comes to mind is whether or not that really was Glomgold at the break in. And, no offense to you, Honeywumpus, I can't imagine your kicks having enough force to kill someone. Even aimed at the throat, it should have merely choked him and knocked him out. And your smoke is only dangerous to asthmatics. I think we need to take a close look at the autopsy results and the police report. Eek! Squeak!"

The plump black bats dutifully left their perch on a curtain rod and circled Morgana's hair, awaiting orders. A big brown spider dangled down from the ceiling. Morgana cupped the spider fondly in her palm and deftly delivered orders to all three creatures.

"You two take Archie to the police station and search the medical examiner's lab. Bring back anything you find on Flintheart Glomgold. Archie, look up the police files on a computer and find what you can on a break-in at Della's Diamonds on Friday night going on to Saturday morning. Print out a copy or bring the original files. Bring whatever you can. Here is a satchel to carry everything in. Hurry, my pets."

The three saluted and Archie hopped into the satchel. The bats grabbed the carrying strap and grunted. Morgana took pity on them and gave Archie a shrinking powder to use on any evidence they gathered. She then assured Drake that she would restore everything to its rightful size when it was safely in her clutches.

Meanwhile, she tried to convince Drake to get some rest. Of course, he refused, but Morgana was prepared for his stubbornness. She snapped her fingers and the fireplace lit. The divan scooted closer to the warmth and a second tea set settled next to the original.

Feinting drowsiness, Morgana yawned and snuggled against Drake's shoulder, pulling a blanket around them. He looked worriedly around the room, trying to come up with an excuse that would provide him an escape route. However, within minutes, he was overcome with warmth and contentment and couldn't fight his eyelids any longer.

Morgana smiled and snuggled closer when she felt his tension fade. His head lolled on top of hers and she gently eased him onto his side, laying his head on a pillow. He started snoring loudly and she grimaced. That was one thing she hadn't counted on. She put a silencing spell on him without disrupting his sleep. There. Now maybe she could catch up on a nap before her pets returned and Drake's friends tracked him down.

(Author's note: Thanks, Irual, for inspiring this scene. Even heroes need to rest sometime.)

The animals returned a few hours later, but Morgana chose not to wake Drake. She instead shooed her pets to another room, with treats to reward them for their help and cooperation, and looked over the evidence they had brought. She had finished reading the files and was just about to retire to her room when she heard Drake stirring.

She checked on him and saw dark circles under his eyes. She wasn't proud of what she did next, but she deemed it necessary. Her Dark couldn't function on so little sleep... She tricked him into thinking it had only been twenty minutes since he'd dozed off and that she was still waiting for the animals to return. Drake protested that he was ready to get up, but Morgana wouldn't hear it. She blew a small puff of sleep sand on him.

"I'm sorry Dark," she whispered, before reopening the door to Dreamworld and joining Drake's dreams, keeping an eye on him and protecting him from Noddoff.

When she herself was too tired to entertain either duck or goblin any further, she paid Noddoff to leave Darkwing alone and went back to her world, sealing the door behind her. She slept for a while on the chair across from Drake, catching up on the hours she'd lost earlier.

Drake woke the next day refreshed and eager to get started. He saw Morgana was still asleep and tried to tiptoe around her, but somehow she sensed him. She greeted him with a smile and a kiss. He returned the affection, but kept his head clear by asking if her pets had returned yet.

Morgana feigned ignorance and made an excuse about checking on their progress. She let the bats and spider out of her bedroom and led them to the den, acting like she had been worried about them. Stroking Archie with one hand, Morgana took the objects out of the silk pouch, using the powder to returned them to their normal size and handing them to Drake.

"Thankyou, Archie. Here are the files, Dark," Morgana said.

Drake studied the reports carefully. "Says here the body was found outside the store... Same height and weight. Still no guarantee that it's Glomgold..."

Drake froze suddenly and stared at something closely. He fumbled for his pockets, seeking something he would ordinarily carry as he pointed out what he had noticed to Morgana. "Hold the phone! This evidence was altered!"

Guessing that Drake was looking for a magnifying glass, Morgana conjured one for him to use. He took it without comment, too focused to think about manners at the moment. He made a triumphant sound.
"Yes! That's it!"

Morgana peered over his shoulder (easy enough, considering she towered over him) and studied the photo. It was a closeup of a bearded duck's face. Drake pointed.

"See here? The side burns look like they used to be brown, not gray! I never met Glomgold personally, but I've seen him on TV and in the papers enough to know what he looks like!"

"That's great news, Dark!" Morgana beamed.

"Not really... Somebody is in the morgue." Drake's face was grim as he explained his viewpoint. "I may not know who, but I am responsible for him, whether I killed him or not. It's up to me to find out what happened to this John Doe and the real Flintheart Glomgold. And why the police are covering this up! There's no way a Medical Examiner could mistake cheap makeup effects for the real thing! "

"I may not be able to help you with this stranger," Morgana said, "but I can track down Glomgold for you. All I need is piece of cloth or a brush that's been in contact with him to identify his aura."

Archie mumbled something and produced a sprig of hair Eek had gotten from the lab.

"Oh, wonderful, Archie! Thank you my dears. Whatever would I do without all of you? Just give me a minute, Dark, and I'll have answers for some of your questions."

Closing her eyes, Morgana held the hair and focussed. After several long minutes, she had the name of the duck, and the fact that old Bill Harrington had been dead from a stroke long before the police found him in front of the jewelry store wearing a ski mask. Unfortunately, Harrington didn't know why he had been used to frame Darkwing, nor did he care. Morgana wasn't about to give up, though. She told Darkwing she was going to teleport to Glomgold's house and get a feel for his aura so she could track him down.

Within minutes, she was gone and Drake was left alone in her creepy house. He looked at his watch and was surprised to see he had slept through the night. He decided, rather than sit there twiddling his thumbs and eyeing her furniture, he was going to do some investigating on his own.


(Note: this next scene was inspired by Irual's stories, where Morgana's house has sentient gargoyles capable of interaction.)

Not long after Drake left, Gosalyn and Launchpad stepped up on Morgana's porch. Gosalyn banged on the door and the gargoyle face threatened to bite. Launchpad backed away, nearly stepping into the pit fall on the porch. Gosalyn shoved him out of harm's way and pointed back at the glowering door knocker.

"You'll have to knock, Launchpad. I can't reach," she said.

Launchpad grimaced.
"Uh, that thing likes the taste of me. Can't we just go around?" he adjusted his scarf nervously as he eyed the gargoyle face.

More house guardians flew from the roof down the walkway. Gosalyn put her hands on her hips and confronted her friend.

"Launchpad, if the front door is this protected, don't you think the back one would be too? Besides, Morgana will know we're here and let us in. We just might have to wait a minute..."

A gargoyle flew over Launchpad's head, dangerously close to his cap. He ducked and gulped, "Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of!"

The door knocker bared its teeth and growled, "The Mistress is not available."

"Okay, then tell Drake or Darkwing to let us in," Gosalyn replied levelly.

"He is no longer here."

"What! Where is he? Which way did he go?"

"That is not my concern."

Gosalyn jumped up and grabbed the sides of the gargoyle's face. "Well you better make it your concern! If something happens to my dad...!"

Startled by the duckling's vehemence, and the rock she raised threateningly in her fist, the gargoyle replied,"He is on foot, headed north. You can still catch up to him."

"That's better!" Gosalyn spat, bouncing back to the porch. "Come on, Launchpad! Let's go find him before somebody else does... Whoa!"

Gosalyn stopped in her tracks as she saw what was upsetting the guardians. Gizmoduck was on the path, easily batting the flying stone creatures away with his gizmos while approaching the house.

"Hey there, little Gizmobuddy. Shouldn't you be in school?" Gizmo called to Gosalyn.

She rolled her eyes. "Teacher work day."

"A likely story, but I'll bite... Kindly step away from the door, please..."

"Why?" Gosalyn asked.

Gizmoduck looked like he was going to explain, but he bit back the words and instead replied seriously, "If you respect Darkwing's wishes, you will go straight home and pretend you know nothing."

"What do we know?" Launchpad scratched his head.

"What are you talking about and what are you doing here? Answer that first!" Gosalyn demanded, glaring at Gizmo.

"I followed you," he replied. "I'm looking for Darkwing and if you don't already know why, then it is not my duty to explain. I promised him I wouldn't involve you, so please, Gizmobuddies, go home."

"Involve us in what? Gizmo, what is going on?" Gosalyn started counting on her fingers. "First the police shoot at the Thunderquack like we're terrorists or something, then Darkwing gets chased by S.H.U.S.H. He disappears without a note or phone call, then you show up looking for him! This doesn't have anything to do with some dead guy, does it?" Gosalyn got up in Gizmo's face.

"No!" he exclaimed.

Seeing her eyes narrow and her fist drawing close to his beak, Gizmo gulped, losing his nerve. He never had been very good with lies.

"Not exactly... Look, I was enlisted to arrest Darkwing and I used you to get to him. I'm not proud of the fact, but I promised I would protect you, so I won't bring you in for aiding or abetting."

"You think Darkwing is guilty? This has "set up" written all over it! I'm not going to let you near him, so unless you start acting like a hero and look into this mess, you're going to have to arrest me too!"

"Gosalyn!" Launchpad exclaimed. She glared at him.

"And you should be backing me up! I'm not about to sit by and let my dad go to jail for something he didn't do!"

Launchpad gawked and Gosalyn hesitated as she realized what she'd said.

"Uh, I mean my dad's hero. That's it. Darkwing is my dad's hero and mine too, so we're going to protect him no matter what!"

Gizmoduck sighed and shook his head. "I already know who he is..."

"Who?" Launchpad asked.

"Darkwing's identity. I found out after the party. Don't worry, I won't tell," Gizmo waved his gloves placatingly.

"But if you knew, why didn't you try to stop him...at...home..." Gosalyn suddenly understood. "You went there already! That's why he left..."

"I spoke to him. He drew the line and told me where he stood. He believes he's innocent, so I'm willing to help him however much I can. But right now he's got S.H.U.S.H. after him along with the entire justice department. If I don't get to him first, something bad may happen! The police have orders to shoot!"

Gosalyn paled and sank to the ground. Launchpad picked her up and hugged her.

"There, there, Gos. DW's smart. Nothing like that's gonna happen to him."

"I'll make sure it doesn't." Gizmo held a finger up. "One way or another, I'm going to get to the bottom of this and help Darkwing or my name isn't Gizmoduck!"


Author's note: Okay, just a reminder, this story is about Darkwing and Gizmoduck, so this is Launchpad' and Gosalyn's last major appearance in this story. I couldn't cut them out entirely because they are essential to Darkwing's character and they would understandably worry about him. Also I wanted to give Gizmo a chance to choose which side he'll stand on. The next chapter adds a few more pieces to the puzzle before the action really gets started.

Also, on a fun note, Fenton' and Drake's standoff was the idea that inspired this whole story.