Disclaimer: Well, if I owned any of the Darkwing Duck characters, nine out of ten I wouldn't be sitting here and typing this fic. So that makes Aviana the only character that I can call my own.
I know I may sound like a broken record, but the reviews are awesome everyone. Thanks a million!
Sproing! Clang!
Negaduck grimaced as another chunk of metal fell off his precious motorcycle that he was currently wheeling down the street. He walked alongside the bike, supporting it by the handlebars. The severely bent wheels squeaked miserably with every turn, the shattered rearview mirrors dangled perilously. The once smooth chrome was now crumpled like one giant paper ball, and a small trail of smoke billowed from the end of the totaled vehicle.
Negaduck made every attempt to salvage his dignity as he walked his pitiful bike down the road. Aviana strode along with him on the other side of the motorcycle, cocking an eyebrow as yet another piece parted ways with it. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. She had only been wearing a tank top underneath her sweatshirt after all, and that was now dripping around her waist. Bare feet did not help either.
Aviana looked at her surroundings. The street was getting filthier with each step, the buildings more decrepit. There were next to no cars on the road, and in their stead were various shady-looking characters. They kept their distance, however – most of them who caught sight of Negaduck seemed to turn away, and those who did not received a sharp glare from the black-masked mallard. That alone appeared to teach the hoodlums a lesson.
"Where are we going?" Aviana asked, watching a fistfight break out on the other side of the road.
"I'm going to a special little place of mine. I don't know where you're going or why you're following me," Negaduck answered, staring straight ahead.
"Gee, why would I be following you," Aviana pondered sarcastically, "when I could wander the streets of a city that I have lived in less than a week while there is a psychotic cyborg out there craving my blood. H'oh boy, isn't that a tough one."
For a second, Negaduck looked as though he had been slapped in the face. His expression quickly changed to outrage and he snapped, "And you think traveling with me is safer? Did you forget who I am? I'm Negaduck, the most evil, cunning, menacing…"
Aviana rolled her eyes as the mallard's ego took over. She waited about two minutes before finally tuning back in.
"…intelligent, devilishly handsome duck ever – "
"Uh huh. So what's this special little place of yours anyway?" Aviana asked, desperate to change the subject.
"If you must know, it's a mechanic I hold in high esteem," Negaduck replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
The duckette glanced at the train wreck rolling beside her.
"What? You're gonna get this thing fixed?! Wouldn't it be cheaper to just buy another one?"
"Money's not an object in this case," Negaduck stated, a smile playing at the corners of his beak.
"As in you're the kind of guy who'll do anything for his wheels."
"No. As in I'm the kinda guy who the mechanic will do whatever I say," Negaduck answered, then added maliciously, "or suffer the consequences."
Aviana shook her head, secretly amused. She looked at the once-motorcycle-turned-scrap-metal a while longer before breathing in disbelief, "And to think we lived through that."
"Heh, it was a good ride, almost makes it worth it," Negaduck commented.
"I was pretty impressed with driving skills," Aviana said without looking at him.
The mallard felt himself fill with an unusually large amount of pride at her compliment. He had never really seen her show satisfaction in anything other than getting the better of him since he had met her.
However, Aviana added, "Impressed right up until you crashed into a wall."
Negaduck scowled.
"You seem to find some sick pleasure in bringing people down, you know that?" he snarled.
"Oh and you're one to talk," Aviana shot back.
Negaduck gave her a harsh glare, which the duckette returned in full intensity. Both attempts at trying to intimidate the other were lost.
Negaduck stopped and turned into a rundown garage. Aviana paused before entering. The place looked as if someone could just breath on it and it would collapse. Besides, the mallard was wearing on her nerves.
Suddenly she heard several catcalls behind her. She whipped around to see a gang of street thugs motioning and whistling crudely, epitomizing everything Aviana despised about the opposite sex.
To the thug's surprise, the duckette they were calling at gave them an ugly look and raised a select finger, then disappeared into the garage.
*~*~*~*
A scrawny, greasy-haired rat sat wiping a hubcap with a dirty rag with enough holes in it to make any Swiss cheese manufacturer jealous. It was ridiculously late at night, but in this part of town, one would find it safer just to get their shuteye during the day. His head still bent over the disc, he heard the sound of footsteps and wailing wheels.
Without looking up he put on a false, macho bluff and called, "What kinda crap metal do I gotta deal with tu-day, dirtba – eep!"
The filthy mechanic finally lifted his eyes from the hubcap and caught sight of the infamous yellow jacket, black mask and cape, and most devastatingly, the duck wearing them.
"Well well, "Spineless" Lou Spindle! How nice to see you! Oh, sorry to interrupt; care to finish what you were saying?" Negaduck crooned in a dangerously friendly voice.
Lou's eyes widened and his face paled. He twitched once, then smiled, showing his grimy buckteeth.
"N-n-no, no sir. Did anyone ever tell you what a snappy dresser you are?" he oozed in a sycophantic tone, "Anyway, I wasn't saying anything, I – "
"I didn't think so," Negaduck growled, then pulled forward his sorry motorcycle, "can you bring it back to its original magnificence?"
Lou stared at the wreckage. It looked like the mallard had driven it off a cliff – numerous times. The mechanic then looked up at Negaduck, who stood completely unscathed, albeit soggy.
Not one to ask questions, Lou went back to his work and looked the bike over. Though the rat was prone to cowardice, flinching, and being frightened by small animals, he was truly a mechanics genius. It was one of the few places in which he could place his self-assurance.
"Sure I can fix it," Lou said confidently, "It's – "
The mechanic was cut off by a duckette marching angrily into the garage, grumbling to herself. She came to a halt beside Negaduck, crossed her arms heatedly, and finally finished with a disgusted, "Men!"
Negaduck and Lou stared at her with an air of indignity. Aviana shot them both a fiery glare.
"What are you two looking at?" she barked.
Negaduck and Lou went back to business.
"I can fix this thing, just give me a week. I'm a very busy man you know," Lou said in an important tone.
"I want it by this evening," Negaduck said brusquely.
Lou's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
"Are you nuts?! This looks more like a recycling bin than a motorcycle! How am I supposed to fix this thing in just a few hours? Even if I did nothing but work on it, it would take at least two days, but a guy's gotta sleep you know, and I've got other customers, who've offered me much better terms. Speaking of which, I'd be glad to bump your bike up on the ol' to do list if you propose a better, ahem, deal," Lou said, rubbing his thumb and fingers together.
In a flash Negaduck had reached up and grabbed the rat by the collar of his uniform and dragged him down to eye level.
"Here's my deal: this thing will be sparkling by six o'clock tonight, the time when I will arrive to pick it up. Take it or leave it. And trust me, you don't want to leave it!"
Though he already had the trembling mechanic at his mercy, Negaduck grasped a wrench and held it above his head for good measure.
Aviana watched as the black-masked mallard threw his weight around, knowing that he was going a tad too far.
"Cool it Cape Boy, he might pass out," Aviana muttered, raising an eyebrow in Lou's direction.
Negaduck snorted and grinned, but Lou gave Aviana an ugly look. Negaduck growled and forcefully yanked the mechanic's head around to face him.
As the two continued to argue over the bike, Aviana took to strolling around the garage. It was completely filthy. Grime streaked the walls, various parts and tools, including some that should not be found in any mechanic's shop, littered the floor. However, her eyes soon fell on a pair of black combat boots, much like the ones she had lost in the bay.
She picked them up and brought the shoes to her face, and her nostrils became overwhelmed with the smell of fish.
"Hey, these things smell like the docks," she commented aloud.
"'Cause it's where they came from," Lou stuttered while looking down the barrel of a pistol. In the mean time, Negaduck held the gun in one hand while casually admiring his nails on the other.
"Can I keep them?" Aviana asked curiously.
Lou's eyes narrowed quizzically, but he replied, "Sure, have it your way."
Negaduck dropped the pistol, and Lou seized the opportunity and dove behind a nearby car.
"Do you have a death wish or something? Didn't those stupid kinda shoes almost, oh I dunno, drown you?! Why would you wear them?" Negaduck asked, exasperated.
"Because, I like them, they're what I'm used to. And I don't have to worry about drowning just as long as I never ride with you again," Aviana returned as she pulled on the boots.
"'Just as long as I never ride with you again,'" Negaduck mimicked in a mocking tone, "smart-aleck little…HEY! Just where do you think you're going?"
Negaduck fired a warning shot as Lou attempted to creep out the back. The rat gulped, staring at the smoking hole in the wall an inch from his face.
Negaduck placed the pistol under his cape and spoke to the quaking mechanic, "Six o'clock. I'll be back. And if this thing isn't the model of perfection…well, I'll just leave it to your imagination."
With an evil smirk the mallard turned on his heel and strutted out of the building, his cape billowing behind. Rolling her eyes, Aviana followed.
The night sky was slowly but surely loosing its inky darkness. The royal blue hues had begun to lighten, signaling to all creatures of the night that fun time was over.
"See, I told you money was no object. I've got him wrapped around my finger, just like the rest of this sorry city," Negaduck boasted.
"Congratulations, you mercilessly bullied someone unable to stick up for himself. You must feel wonderful," Aviana said with a look of disdain.
"Hey, he had it coming, that stupid, mooching, grimy little – "
"He had it coming!" Aviana repeated, "Like Hell he did! I don't care how irritating someone is, you just don't throwing your weight around like that! How would you feel, if someone bigger and stronger than you just tortured you, brought you pain and fear, for no reason except to make their own miserable selves feel better?!"
Negaduck stood silent. Funny, he knew exactly how that felt. And from the look on Aviana's face, it appeared that she did as well.
Aviana glowered at the mallard, expecting a tirade of choice statements to come flying back at her. However, he uttered not a sound. His stony expression told her everything she needed to know, and Aviana felt her own face soften.
The two regarded each other in the twilight, silent on the outside, screaming on the inside. Every emotion writhed within the shell each had encased themselves, like an armor protecting them from further wounds. Each prepared to hold the darkness inside to the grave. At the same time, each finding a wordless understanding from the other.
"So, where's Black Fur Avenue from here?" Aviana asked, uneasily breaking the spell.
Negaduck looked at her suspiciously.
"Not far, but I can't grasp why you would want to go there. It's not exactly the crème de la crème of St. Canard."
"I could tell," Aviana muttered, "unfortunately it's where my apartment is."
"You've got to be kidding."
"It's the cheapest rent in the city."
"True, because most of its clientele gets stabbed," Negaduck quipped.
Aviana crossed her arms.
"Just give me directions, Fuzzy."
"Fine," Negaduck seethed, "go to the intersection up the road and – "
Negaduck stopped and looked over Aviana's shoulder. The duckette turned to look, then swore under her breath. The gang of street thugs had returned, grinning ominously in her direction.
While Aviana's glared daggers at the hoodlums, Negaduck watched her. There was an odd feeling in his stomach, and he looked to the gang once more. Trying not to think of how much he was going to hate himself in the morning, Negaduck inhaled deeply and mumbled, "Nevermind, I'll just take you."
Aviana turned around slowly. Raising an eyebrow she asked knowingly, "What was that?"
"Don't push it," he growled.
"You don't think I can take care of myself?"
"If you can't, your shoes will," Negaduck replied.
Aviana admired her boots.
"It's weird, but I actually kinda like the smell of rotten fish," she mused.
"Same here."
"Look at that, we have something in common."
"Yeah yeah yeah, less talk more walk girlie. This night couldn't get any longer…" Negaduck said as he started down the street.
"Aw, does Fuzzy need his beauty sleep?"
*~*~*~*
"And that's how I trapped this entire city in an impenetrable force field and took over St. Canard."
"But what about Darkwing?"
"Ha. I put a crumb on the bridge so he could find the hideout. Trust me, he would have never noticed the giant flag if I shoved it right under his beak. Anywho, I then had him take a nice long drop off the skyscraper."
"Really? Well the Justice Ducks saved him, I presume?"
"No. Apparently a garbage truck did. Damn public services."
"Well, then what?"
"I had those knobs formerly known as the Fearsome Four capture the Freak League. Then, thanks to the science of pain, I showed those losers who's large and in charge of this town."
"Let me guess. Darkwing came leaping forth to foil your evil scheme and save the day."
"Of course not. I got bored with his valueless virtue voodoo and ditched the whole thing."
"He beat you, didn't he?"
"Yeah well…only because he had help from his crummy courageous club! Stupid yak…"
"Yak?"
"Nevermind."
Negaduck and Aviana strolled down the back streets of the "bad part of town." Morning was approaching and the night owls of St. Canard were gradually disappearing, leaving two pairs of webbed feet to claim the street as their own.
The fact that they were both completely exhausted had lessened their inclination to argue, so Negaduck and Aviana got to talking. Talking led to telling stories about past adventures, which led to Negaduck talking and Aviana listening, which both were fine with. The mallard had to admit, she was a pretty decent listener.
"But what about you and the rest of the Fearsome Five? I think I saw that electric guy – Megavolt, right? – I think I saw him on the news once, but other than that, I've never heard of these guys. You seem to have neglected to mention them."
"Yeah, well, there's nothing worth mentioning. They're a bunch of traitorous, sniveling losers whose only talents include wasting my precious time," Negaduck snapped bitterly.
"I see," Aviana responded, too tired to venture further on the subject.
At long last, they reached the shabby apartment complex.
"Well, this is my stop," Aviana said as she climbed the porch steps, "Till we meet again."
"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" Negaduck asked.
"It's like talking to a brick wall with you isn't it? It's the Devil's Eye. You can't escape it. You, me, Darkwing, we're all – "
"Involved. Yeah, I got that one. You know, I find that you're a bit too obsessed with this thing. I suggest you lay off this Devil's Eye crap or your brain just might explode," Negaduck declared from the bottom of the stairs.
Aviana scowled down at him and cried, "You don't understand! This 'Devil's Eye crap' is no joke. It's as serious as it gets! It's life or death!"
"Oh really. Wow, you reeeeeally need a hobby. I've never seen someone so fixated on a magical black rock in my life. Get a life for cryin' out loud!" Negaduck yelled.
Aviana stared at him icily, listening to his words echo in her head. She had come to realize that he was not the egotistical, prone-to-violence jerk she had originally conceived him to be. The truth of his words stung, but a mixture of pride and pain kept her from giving in.
"Yeah, whatever you say Fuzzy, I'll keep that in mind," she muttered sardonically.
"That's all I ask," the black-masked mallard replied with an equal amount of cynicism.
Aviana shook her head.
"Goodnight Fuzzy," she said, and disappeared with a soft shut of the door.
Negaduck grunted. He started towards Billy-Bob's Fish'n Chips after the longest conversation he had partaken in without feeling the compulsion to hurt the other person in years.
*~*~*~*
Drake Mallard awoke with a jolt. His breathing was labored and he looked about the room wildly. Slowly he relaxed, realizing that he was safe in his own bed, in his own room, in his own house. He was not on top of that building, trembling, and his parents…
Drake shook his head in order to clear the images from his dream. That was all behind him now, and it was a new day. He enjoyed a nice, long stretch. Boy, he felt unusually well-rested, wonder what time it was. His eyes drifted lazily to his alarm clock.
Drake froze in mid-stretch.
"6:12 PM! THAT'S WAY TOO LATE!"
In his extreme weariness the night before, he had forgotten to set the alarm, and now was the time to pay the price. He leapt off the bed and hurtled down the steps, hastily trying to put on his robe, but only managing to get it on one arm.
Meanwhile, Gosalyn was busy placing an arrow meticulously on the string of her bow. She took careful aim, then fired. The arrow soared and came to a halt on the head of an inconspicuous statue.
"Bulls eye! Did you see that Honk?"
Honker Muddlefoot did not remove his eyes from Squishee the Squirell's Big Book of QuantumPhysics.
"Wow Gos that's really good," he said automatically.
The redhead crossed her arms indignantly.
"Hey, you didn't even look! How's my sidekick supposed to be alert and ready for anything if he's got his beak buried in some book?"
"Sorry Gosalyn."
The two looked up as Drake made contact with the bottom of the stairs with a loud 'thud!' and turned wildly into the kitchen.
"Gotta get coffee! Gotta get coffee!" he gasped zippily.
Honker turned to Gosalyn and asked nervously, "Do you think your dad really needs the caffeine?"
"Who knows," she answered and headed toward the kitchen. Honker followed warily.
Drake had the coffee maker running, and was now pacing back and forth impatiently, his eyes never leaving the worn appliance.
"C'mon c'mon! Out with the java already!" he cried.
"Jeez Dad, take a chill pill, you're gonna have a coronary!"
"No! Can't chill! Overslept!"
"What's the big deal, if you're late it's not like you'll get detention," Gosalyn protested resentfully.
Drake yanked out the coffee pot and dumped the steaming liquid into his mug. He dashed to the refrigerator and reached a hand inside, searching for milk.
"No Gos, I won't get detention, St. Canard will just be pulverized. Who knows what Taurus Bulba is up to, he could have already reduced the city to rubble!"
"All because you overslept?" Gosalyn asked skeptically.
Drake's hand fell onto what he believed to be the milk, but was in fact an orange juice carton. Without looking, he poured it into his coffee and raised to mug to his beak.
"Uh, Dad…"
"Mr. Mallard…"
"It's my responsibility to protect this metropolis and it's citizens, there's no time for sleep – YECH!"
Drake coughed out the gigantic gulp he had just taken, spraying coffee and orange juice all over the kitchen.
"Ew gross," Gosalyn commented, cringing.
The mallard smacked his forehead and tossed the mug into the sink. He sped into the living room, his robe trailing behind him.
osalyn gasped and followed, calling, "Dad, did you forget our little discussion? You can't go out there alone!"
"I won't be alone, I'll call Aviana, if she's not already on top of things," he rambled guiltily.
"Who?" Gosalyn and Honker asked in unison.
"Someone who's helping me out with the whole Devil's Eye thing," Drake said, tearing towards the blue chairs.
Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, and turned to Gosalyn with a stern face, "Now listen to me young lady: you're safe here, Taurus Bulba knows nothing about where we live, and I want to keep it that way. If you set one foot out of this house, I will take you camping every day for the rest of your life!"
Gosalyn's beak dropped in shock at the mention of the heinous punishment.
"Fine," she grumbled.
"That's my girl," Drake said, and ran to the chairs.
"And don't worry, I'll be careful-"
THOMP!
In his haste, Drake tripped over the nefarious living room rug and became airborne. His flight ended when he hit the blue chair and his head became wedged between the cushions.
He mumbled something that was thankfully muffled by the pillows. He reached up and brought his fist down on the statue, and disappeared in a blur.
The instant he was out of sight, Gosalyn tore up to her room.
"Where are you going?" Honker cried.
"To get my gear!"
"But Gosalyn, you heard your dad, he said – "
The redhead slid back down the banister, clutching her Quiverwing costume. She began slinging on the outfit as she spoke to Honker, "He said that I can't set one foot out the door. He never said anything about two!"
"Yeah but that was implied!"
"Implied or not, he never said anything about Quiverwing Quack leaving the house either, so there! Besides, what I'm doing is for his own good!"
"What's that?" Honker asked.
"Let's just say I'm getting help from an old friend of his," Gosalyn replied, swishing her cape dramatically.
Honker adjusted his glasses and looked at his friend worriedly.
"Just…just…just be careful, okay?"
"Don't sweat it, Honk! Dad and I will be back in one piece! Bulba's never beaten us before!"
"Well…okay."
"See ya soon!"
With that, Quiverwing Quack quickly darted out the door.
"I hope so," Honker whispered with a feeling of dread.
*~*~*~*
The station wagon came to a halt in the empty parking of a random drug shop.
"Remember: wait for my signal. Then we'll bamboozle those buffoons."
"Cut the crap Jim."
"Fine. Let's go."
Drake listened as his parents vacated the vehicle. He was confused beyond all reason now; his parents' tone was different than before. It was darker, less confident.
Shrugging, the duckling crept out the car, tingling with excitement. His little feet tiptoed down the night-covered street.
"Hey, where'd they go?" he whispered to himself, searching for his parents.
His question was answered by the sound of two gunshots exploding through the wall of silence. Drake jumped in shock, and his heart pounded. There were several loud and heated shouts, one of which bore a remarkable resemblance to his father's voice.
Mustering up his courage, Drake ran towards the sound of the chaos, coming to a halt in front of a dark alley. It seemed so large and foreboding, practically oozing danger. The duckling stared into the blackness, as if fearing it might consume him. His bravery wavering ever so slightly, he gulped and moved stealthily forward. The shadows increased all around him, and he could not see a thing.
Stretching his arms out in front of him, Drake called nervously, "Mom? Dad? WHAAA!"
His feet came in contact with a bulky something on the ground, and Drake fell like a ton of bricks. He quickly pushed himself up on his hands and knees.
"Hey, what's the big idea?" he shouted angrily, trying to mask his fear.
Suddenly his tiny hand landed in something warm. He speedily recoiled and, as his eyes adjusted to the night, stared at a murky liquid dripping from his fingertips.
Drake inhaled sharply, and without another look at whatever or whoever it was he had tripped over, jumped to his feet and sped down the alley. He could see the eerie light cast by the moon at the other end, and the voices of several strangers echoed in the night. He skidded to a halt at the end of the alley, and gazed across the street.
Drake recognized two of the many adults, but the rest remained anonymous. To his dismay he could see that they were struggling. One of the strangers finally broke free and dashed into an adjacent building, and the others quickly darted after him in hot pursuit.
"Oh boy!" Drake cried excitedly.
His webbed feet scraped the pavement and he quickly crossed the street, coming to a standstill in front of the building. He leaned back in awe, gazing at its height. While not the St. Canard Tower, it sure was a sight to behold.
"Duckman Brothers Insurance," he read slowly, testing his developing literacy skills.
The name held no significance with him, but no matter. His parents were in there! He burst through the doors, causing yet another pair of feet to trigger the silent alarm.
Drake followed the sound of the angry shouts, and soon found the group of adults sprinting up a flight of stairs. No way was he going to miss any of the action. The little duckling joined in the chase. He climbed the stairwell at top speed, and stopped for a breather at the top.
"You've gotta be kiddin' me," he gasped, watching his parents continue up the dozens of staircases. Shaking his head, he followed.
*****
At long last, Drake Mallard reached the last flight of stairs. Now both confused and exhausted, he opened the door in front of him, only to find himself on a rooftop.
"Cool beans," he breathed. He had never been on one of these before!
His head snapped up at the sound of his parents. From behind the door, he could see them and four others all huddled around a shivering duck.
"So Stones, why is it they call you 'The Snitch?'" cooed the especially large one in the middle, "Huh? Tell me, I wanna know."
"I told you Tad – I d-didn't say a word," the terrified duck stammered.
"Sure you didn't, and the cops just magically knew where all the meth was and who was handling it. Of course Stones, how could I have been so naïve?"
"Go ahead, d-do your worst! Anyone with eyes will be able to see you guys up here!"
"Don't fret, we'll make this one quick, well, at least for us," the large adult seethed, "Loose lips sink ships, and loose lips get blown to bits! Jim and Cummings, you guys take the right. Kathie, Sucie, you two take left. Hooter, you stay with me."
The small owl stood obediently by the large figure, while Drake watched his parents move to their respected positions. The duckling nearly fell over in shock when the two people he had trusted his entire life brandish guns and point them mercilessly at Stones' head.
"All right Stones, it's time you learned that ruining crime doesn't pay – "
"NOW!"
Jim and Kathie Mallard leapt in front of Stones, standing like a wall between the victim and the hit men.
"Mallards! Get outta the way! We got some target practice to do!" Sucie yelled.
"Not today pal!" Jim declared sternly, "I'm afraid you're scheme has come to an end!"
"Way to be cliché, Jim," Kathie mumbled.
Drake felt his heart nearly burst with pride. His parents weren't monsters, they were the good guys! He was the son of heroes!
Negaduck gasped and woke up suddenly as a spasm passed through his body. His heart was pounding and could not seem to take in enough air. He shuddered and looked about his hideout. Why did those memories have to revisit him? Why could he not just lock them away and destroy the key? He had to think of a way to block them, before he they went any further…
Negaduck shuddered once more. Shaking his head, he pushed himself off the mattress and walked nervously to his bag of loot. Negaduck rummaged through it until he came across a very expensive watch. It was 6:12 pm, Lou should be ready by now. A nice, long ride around town would sooth his nerves.
Negaduck tugged on his jacket and cape. He put his hand up to his face, touching his mask reassuringly. Still breathing heavily, the mallard snatched his hat and strode out into the sunset.
*~*~*~*
High above the city in Darkwing Tower, Drake Mallard popped his head through the green turtleneck, then made a frantic grab for his jacket. He could not believe it – one of the most important cases of his life, and he almost slept right through it.
No sooner had he bound the purple mask to his face when J. Gander Hooter's face burst onto the giant computer screen, a rare look of panic on his face.
Slightly taken aback by his abrupt entry, Darkwing quickly regained his composure. In a strong, controlled voice he called, "What is it, J. Gander?"
Darkwing could here several screams in the background, along with many loud slams. This was unusual, even for S.H.U.S.H. Darkwing felt a slight pang of foreboding, and rightfully so.
"Darkwing, you must come quickly," Gander cried desperately, "SHUSH is under attack!"
The next thing Darkwing knew, a great explosion sounded behind J. Gander, and the screen went blank.
NOTE: Hope this one was long enough for ya Negsfan ;) Anywho, for the Darkwing fans, don't worry, there will be a lot more of him in the next chapter. For anyone looking forward to next chapter, thank you for one thing, and I will try to get out the next chapter as soon as I can. School really blows.