Birds of A Feather
Chapter Five:
Not Anymore
Seasons have past since Darkwing's last run in with Steelbeak, but the crime fighter was still hot on his heels for attempting to ruin his image. Every attempt to capture the rooster had failed. He had not even attempted to contact police in assistance for bringing him in, for the mallard knew that Steelbeak lately had eluded their best officers. If he wanted him behind bars, he would have to do it himself.
In a cloud of blue smoke, Darkwing found himself in the apartment of his iron-jawed nemesis' bedroom. For as long as he was a crimefighter, the trick to the disappearing and reappearing in a cloud of blue or purple smoke was always kept a secret.
"I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the fox that raids your henhouse at midnight! I am Darkwiiiiing Duck!" He announced in his usual egotistical manner, poised dramatically on the foot of the rooster's bed.
Still, Steelbeak slept. He twisted his head back and mumered happily, as if to reply to the duck's entrance. "Youse came at de right time, babe. 'ow sweet of youse!"
Normally, Darkwing would be quick to handcuff him, but refrained from doing so for one very good reason. To awake Steelbeak suddenly, he would risk getting badly hurt. When startled, the rooster would be quick to bite. As much as risking injury and even death was part of his job, Darkwing wasn't in the mood to loose an arm or succumb to secondary infection. How would Gosalyn cope without him?
He would have to wait for the big fellow to wake up, and then pounce the very moment he sat up in bed. After all, good things happen to those who wait.
As if to further annoy Darkwing Duck, Steelbeak slept right through his entrance. Impatiently, the crimefighter paced about and looked through documents and other personal belongings to kill time. Every once in a while he would look to see if the big bird was still breathing. He had not known anyone to sleep in so late. 'Maybe one day he'll come to work late one day and get fired. Oh well.'
While meandering about in the kitchen, Darkwing got an idea. "Maybe if I can cook something, the slumbering supervillain would awake! Who could sleep through the savoring aroma of an English Breakfast?" He poked his head out of the kitchen and smirked slyly at the lazy avian. He had become paunchy in his middle age, and Darkwing took a good guess that this was attributed by his eat-like-a-bird appetite.
If I could make that breakfast, I could forge a note more or less saying that Bushroot made the breakfast. When he comes to the kitchen, I'll get 'em!
His hope died down as he suddenly remembered Steelbeak had no sense of smell. He slapped himself in the face and groaned, unintentionally "tweaking" his bill as he ran his hand down it. "Won't work, he couldn't even smell a rotting corpse if you put one in front of him!"
Taking a second glance at Steelbeak, Darkwing couldn't help but to notice his (temporary) innocence and peacefulness. This had been the second time he had seen him without anything covering his torso, but he hadn't really noticed just how massive his body really was. Just because Steelbeak looked cute and sexy, it didn't mean he would go easy on him. With just one hard slap, Darkwing knew he could easily kill someone.
"Some guys would kill to have a body like that . . . " He muttered, looking him over for the third time. Inwardly, he admitted to finding his body attractive. Suddenly, the rooster embraced him in a tight bear hug. Darkwing could barely gasp as the grip became tighter.
"I'd nibble yer scrumptious petals but I wouldn't wanna hoit ya!" Steelbeak spoke seductfully.
"Er, Steelbeak?" He laughed nervously, trying to squirm away from the hug. "It's not that you have bad B.O. or anything, but . . . Er, you could let go. I'm not Bushroot."
When the rooster finally opened his eyes, Darkwing was violently thrown across the room. As he crashed into a valuable painting, the F.O.W.L agent pounced him.
"What de 'eck are youse doin' 'ere?" Steelbeak demanded, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and giving him a rough shake. "Youse better not be lookin' t'rough my stuff!"
"Taking you to jail," Darkwing said casually, subduing Steelbeak with a well-aimed Webkick to the stomach. From there, he managed to tackle his adversary and handcuffed him. "What else would I be here for, Steelie? Coming over for a cup of tea? I'm smarter than you think, Steelie!"
Steelbeak cringed at the nickname, and raised his hackles. The thought of going to jail did not bother him, for he was a master of escaping. That nickname reminded him all too well of the Ammonia Pine incident nearly twelve years ago. Bushroot using the nickname was one thing, but it was another when anyone else did.
"Don't call me dat!"
"Why, is that a nickname that only Bushroot can use?" Darkwing smirked, teasingly tapping the rooster on the beak and then pulling his hand away as he got snapped at.
"None of yer business!" Steelbeak growled, biting through the handcuffs as if they were made out of raw spaghetti. He grabbed Darkwing by the scruff of the neck, opened the door and kick dropped him out into the hallway.
"Get outta 'ere!" He yelled, his voice booming like thunder. The door was slammed shut with such force it had cracked the doorframe. "Show yer face 'ere again and I'll kill yas!"
"Oomf . . . " Darkwing grunted as he went sliding across the navy-blue hallway carpet. Determined to bring the villain to jail, he used his cloud of smoke trick to make a pit stop at the Darkwing Tower. From there, he would fetch a tranquilizer gun. He had purchased it from the local zoo for use on the more dangerous adversaries when the gas gun wasn't effective.
With his new weapon concealed in his jacket, he marched his way back to the F.O.W.L apartment complex. Without watching where has going, he bumped into Bushroot and the two fell flat on their rears.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" Darkwing squawked, standing up and brushing dust off his jacket. "I just got this from the drycleaners, melonhead!"
"Hey, I wasn't the one walking around with his beak up in the air!" Bushroot whined, giving the duck a rough shove. "Thanks for stealing Valentino from me. We were having a good relationship and then you came along and ruined it."
Darkwing's eyes widened at this. How dare he accuse me of stealing that despicable villain! I wouldn't befriend him, let along go out with him!
"What do you mean? It was Steelbeak who tried to seduce me!" Darkwing said in a hushed tone and ignoring the looks of the general public. "That overgrown . . . "
Not believing this, Bushroot gave Darkwing a hard prod in the chest. "I bet you boinked him in the back of a limo!"
"I did not!" Darkwing gasped, regaining his posture. "I wouldn't sleep with that loudmouth, metal-eating, cackling hyena if I was paid a billion dollars!"
Bushroot folded his arms, looking down at the mallard accusatively. "Oh yeah? Well . . .You were the one who frisked him in the first place!"
"I had to make sure he wasn't carrying dangerous weapons!" Darkwing rolled his eyes. He knew Bushroot wasn't the most colourful plant in the garden, but thought he'd at least know what was involved in frisking. "I couldn't just let him walk about in the public knowing he'd use everyone for target practice! I think I know a little bit more about Steelbeak's ways than you do."
"Excuses, excuses . . . " Bushroot sighed, throwing his leafed hands up into the air dramatically. "Just . . . Execute him or something. I've broken ties with that stupid rooster!" With that, he stormed off in the opposite direction, ranting all the way. "That angst-ridden son of a hen was the biggest waste of time in my entire life!"
Darkwing wasn't shocked at this, and felt Bushroot's frustration. Yet, killing criminals wasn't his job; he wasn't that anti-villain. All that mattered to him was that when they cause trouble, they were off the streets and in prison. In spite of his anti-criminal attitude toward Steelbeak, he also couldn't help but to feel a little sorry for him. How would he react to hear Bushroot no longer wanted him?
He'll get over it. With a shrug, Darkwing didn't think any more of it and disappeared again in a cloud of smoke.
"Alright, Steelbeak! Time to take you out Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom-style!" He announced as he reappeared in the apartment, brandishing the tranquilizer gun instead of his usual gas gun. He headed straight down the hallway as he heard the shower running and someone singing.
Steelbeak sung "Roman Guitars" as he stroked a hand through his comb and massaged shampoo into his feathers. Over the rushing water, he did not hear Darkwing's voice.
Darkwing knocked on the door, and did his best impersonation of Bushroot's voice. He knew Steelbeak was among the smarter of the criminals he dealt with, but it was worth a try.
"Ooooh Steelbeak! I just came back from a heist over at Plover's Garden Centre. Got some nice ferns. Boy, is it ever hot outside. Mind if I come in to cool down?"
Sure enough, Steelbeak was too smart for this trick. He simply ignored him, and just to be obnoxious, he sung louder and turned up the pressure of the water.
Darkwing pressed an ear against the door to hear any response. There was none, but he wasn't quite ready to give up hope.
"Desperate situations call for desperate measures!" He opened the door a little, just enough to fit in the muzzle of the tranquilizer dartgun. Taking careful aim, he fired. What he didn't see was that there was a sliding glass shower door, and the dart harmlessly bounced off.
Instead of cursing to himself, Darkwing found himself staring at Steelbeak's nude form. He refrained from ordering the villain to step out and get changed, and also held back the usual witty commentary. He was in awe, and a strangely strong sensation of desire came upon him. Up until now, Darkwing had always been strictly a lady's man. He had spotted the rooster's exposed groin, and couldn't help but to feel a little jealous. Hey, he's bigger than me! Realizing what he was thinking, he gave himself another slap in the face and looked away.
Get ahold of yourself, Darkwing! This is Steelbeak! Not Morgana or any other cute girl. This is a dangerous villain! Steadily, he removed his jacket, set his tranquilizer gun up against the wall and continued to keep watching. As he opened the door a little more, he remembered there was something that needed to be said. For now, he would have to put aside his new feelings.
The very moment Steelbeak turned his back (and giving him a nice view of his posterior), Darkwing decided it was time to step in. He opened the door casually and slipped into the shower stall, all without the villain noticing. Slowly, he rested a comforting hand between the larger bird's shoulders. For what he had to tell Steelbeak, he wanted him to keep his cool.
Startled at suddenly being touched, Steelbeak spun around and stared down at Darkwing. Does dis guy really wanna off 'emself? He neither returned the affection, nor reacted aggressively in any way.
"What's the matter?" The mallard asked in a teasing tone. "Did I scare you?"
Steelbeak merely quirked an eyebrow, trying to figure out what Darkwing was trying to do, and what he should do about it. With a smirk, he stepped back, giving the 'intruder' a spray in the face with the shower faucet.
"Jes' what d'ya t'ink yer doin'? Youse gotta lotta noive to be 'ere . . . " He spoke tersely with a quiet growl. His silver eyes were void of any emotion, negative or otherwise. What he was feeling now was the calm before the storm. At any moment, he was ready to snap. "If yas knew what was good fer youse, I'd suggest ya'd hightail outta 'ere!"
Darkwing crossed his arms as a serious expression registered upon his face. "I have come here to tell you something. Have a problem with that?"
"Yes, dere's a problem wit' dat. I'm already taken!" Steelbeak bluntly replied, forcibly removing Darkwing's hand from him. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, giving the duck a "get outta here" look. He rightfully felt violated, and he was ready to throw the duck right out the window.
Darkwing shook his head disagreeably, not letting himself get intimidated. He had to tell Steelbeak the truth.
"Not anymore you're not."