The Mistress and the Madman Chapter 2, a darkwing duck fanfic

-Chapter Two-

Mistress Macabre's Marvels

When he returned to the house it was well past two. Launchpad had fallen asleep in the guest room and Gosalyn slept half hanging off her bed, her face upon an open comic book. He had changed clothes at the headquarters and he was still sore from the kick and prickly in the bill. He pushed her so she lay all the way on the mattress and peeled the book out from under her. He felt drained; he had since that woman touched him. Gosalyn stirred and rolled over kicking her legs over the side of the bed again. He shook his head and sighed. He blinked thickly as he went into the hall. The house was dark and quiet, he lingered in the hallway unable to shake the daze that he was slipping into. He must just be over tired, he convinced himself as he made his way to his bedroom. There wasn't much in his room, a dresser where he kept his "leisurely" wardrobe, a lamp, and a bed. He had no pictures, no mirrors, this room felt more like a guest room, and he often felt as if he was a guest here too as opposed to being the owner. He just didn't spend enough time here to feel any other way. He collapsed onto the mattress face first. He closed his eyes and he could see her again. She was burned onto his eyelids and he could still feel the pull of her green eyes. Who was she? Somehow he knew he'd see her again… what was it that made it more than a hopeful thought. It was all so strange, he couldn't shake this weariness, and he was rather embarrassed at how he conducted himself around her. Why was she with those…creatures and why were they breaking into that house? His thoughts drifted off and he fell into sleep.

He jolted awake when someone pounced on him. Groaning he opened his eyes and felt the throbbing pain in his head. Gosalyn sat on his chest staring at him.

"Late night?" She smiled. She was in a long nightshirt and her red hair stuck out wild and unruly all over her head. He groaned once again in response and put a hand over his achy eyes. He had been having dreams about the woman he heard being called "mistress". The kind of dreams that aren't appropriate to conjure let alone dream. But the oddest thing was he wasn't himself. In fact he had been multiple men, some were just having friendly discussions with her, about things he had no idea about. It was like he wasn't really there at all. The last one he could remember was the guy saying something about a ring.

"Well it's noon and Launchpad called you out of work when he couldn't wake you up. So are you going to sleep all day or what?" Gosalyn slid off his chest and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm up…. I'm up." He flinched as he sat up, God, this was a killer headache. She put a cold hand on his forehead.

"Hmm… you're not sick. So… Drake I've been thinking…. We should go out today! A little bonding time you know?"

"What did you have in mind that doesn't involve jumping out of a plane or bungee jumping?" He rubbed the stiffness out of his neck and noticed he'd slept in his clothes. Her eyes twinkled.

"Does the Thunderquack count as a plane? Or we could always go swimming with sharks…" She laughed at the distraught look on his face. She held up a page from the newspaper for him to read. The black and white ad made him want to curl up under the covers and sleep for the next week. "Ringling Beagles Circus is in the city can we go PLEASE?"

Twenty-three "no's" and a fist full of aspirin later he found himself being dragged along the flashing game tents and rickety rides. The place smelt of the bigger farm animals, which was fitting because hay was the carpeting of choice. It was packed with children that should have been in school (who were entirely too loud), not to mention there were an awful lot of well dressed business men there too, which he thought odd. Gosalyn wasn't concerned however, she had already won some "beautiful" sawdust filled prizes at games of skill, if milk cans ever rose against a person and being well trained in the art of knocking them down with baseballs was a useful skill to flaunt she would be set. He was stuck carrying the bizarre creatures as she make short work of a seven-dollar batch of cotton candy. They had sat through a bunch of acts, he couldn't remember much apart from holding his pounding head. He did remember seeing people on the trapeze, and a bear in a tutu, neither of which he really wanted the memory of. He couldn't take much more of this, he wanted to go home and sleep off this pain. An elegant looking man in a tail coat pushed hurriedly past him, now that he noticed it there was quite a lot of men in this back area of the circus grounds. A sticky hand gripped his in excitement.

"Oooh Drake! A freak show! Can we go?" She pointed ahead hopping up and down.

"Aghh…." He began but his weary mind wrapped itself around what she said. "Freak show?" The giant frog, the cadaver-man, the small strong man, and the were-duck… could it really be that simple? His eyes followed her finger to a large black tent that was just ahead. Large posters hung from the outside and the faces from last night stared somberly back at him. Each poster was emblazoned with the phrase "Mistress Macabre's Marvels." To her delight he agreed.

She ran ahead of him into the dark tent. A big crowd was collected inside; there were people everywhere standing, because there was nowhere left to sit. She stood up on her tippy toes and could see the edge of a large stage. She saw an empty bail of hay to her left and made her way to it. Just when she went to stand on it a glittering, transparent butterfly swirled around her head. In awe she reached up to touch it and it delicately shattered into sparkles. This was amazing! She couldn't believe Drake was taking so long! She hopped up on the hay and her eyes traveled along the swarming butterflies to the stage where they were originating. A pretty duck stood on center stage her eyes closed and her mouth moving slightly, the magic creatures curling out of her very fingers. Her hair had the color scheme of the Bride of Frankenduck, and she wore a blood red dress that hung off her shoulders. The crowd around her stared enchanted at the display; some eyes found the woman more entertaining than the trick, she noticed. Gosalyn couldn't help but notice how sad and tired the lovely lady looked. A burst of colored lights shot from the lady's fingers, the dancing light circled each butterfly and transformed them into hundreds of brilliantly colored, opaque birds. They dived gracefully over the crowd, a red one flew steadily toward the back of the tent and she saw Drake standing frozen at the tent's entrance, the bird staring him down. Had he seen the wonderful trick? She looked back at the stage through the breathtaking birds to the sorceress, she looked rather shocked at what she had just done. The members of the audience that were seated stood in an earsplitting ovation. The lady's surprise disappeared and she gracefully bowed. She snapped her fingers and there was a spark, the birds exploded into flower petals that showered down on them. Gosalyn felt Drake move in by her elbow, she kept her eyes on the sorceress not wanting to miss another spell. There was something different about her… she looked stronger, livelier than she had when Gosalyn had first seen her.

"Thank you!" Cried the lady on the stage over the dying applause. " Thank you all! So concludes our show. Please join us again!" She bowed again, her eyes were frantically skimming the audience, and they stopped next to Gosalyn. She turned to Drake and saw he was already returning the woman's gaze. The sorceress flicked her wrists dramatically. "On behalf of the Marvels and myself, Mistress Macabre, I wish you all good fortune and pleasant nightmares!"

There was an outburst of fire works and she was gone. The crowd clapped heartily and whistled loudly. When they finally caught on that there was to be no encore the throngs started to file out. Gosalyn sat on the haystack not wanting to attempt an exit with all the chatting people shoving, and pushing impatiently at each other, Drake joined her. She saw a lot of older men collecting at the foot of the stage talking excitedly and laughing loudly to one another. Now that she noticed it the crowd did contain a great number of men as well, magic wasn't the only reason they came the show she decided. Drake was quiet and his expression was unreadable. He was thinking something Darkwing-ish. The tent was almost empty now and the noise was softer.

"She was pretty, huh Drake?" She said with a smile. He looked at her coolly.

"Gosalyn I need you to wait here alright? If something happens just leave okay?" He stood up.

"What? What are you talking about?"

The crowd was gone save for the older rich looking men at the stage. Drake had seen the way the woman's magic had exploded when he set foot in the tent. The second he did those weak looking butterflies became vibrant birds; it was like he had triggered some sort of alarm. Then she had found him, searched him out in the faces of the crowd. There was no mistaking her, she was the woman from last night and he was going to have a few words with her. A curtain on the stage swept open and the lady walked back into sight. The men started shouting over each other pulling boxes out of their dress coats. Jewelry boxes and decadent candies were being held up for her. As he approached Drake caught a glint of a diamond necklace being brandished. It appeared "Mistress" was an appropriate name.

"Boys… Boys, I see you've heard about my wonderful company." She smiled at a portly bulldog that was quite foully drooling all over himself. "I'm sure you've also heard I thoroughly enjoy intellectual companions after my performances." She sat on the edge of the stage showing off a smooth calf. The hands closed in around her and Drake hung back, it would be impossible to question her in this. The Mistress fingered a jeweled brooch that was held up for her. "And my… you all are certainly eager to spend time with little old me. So who will I pick today… oh it's such a tough decision…" Her deep green eyes danced on to Drake and she smiled.

To his horror he felt a hand close around his wrist and yank it into the air as an all too familiar voice shouted over the slobbering aristocrats.

"Pick my Dad!"

"Gosalyn!" He hissed at her as he pulled out of her grasp. "What did I just tell you?"

"Your… father?" The woman spoke the word bitterly and the men surrounding her laughed obnoxiously. She looked kind of upset.

"He's single!" Gosalyn shouted at the nearest laughing man.

"Gos… please…" He grabbed her by the collar of the shirt as she took a swing at the laughing bulldog.

"I believe the lady Morgana said she wanted 'intellectual' company…" laughed the slobbering canine, "…not a dead beat dad and his loud little brat."

This time Gosalyn tried to restrain Drake; he grabbed the dog by the front of his well-pressed shirt.

"Now listen here 'friend' don't you ever insult my daughter…." He began in a menacing growl.

"That's enough!" The woman the dog had called Morgana was standing beside him. She eyed the pair of them thoughtfully, and then looked at Drake. "Mister….?"

He didn't answer; the look in her eyes told him she knew he was Darkwing. Apparently Gosalyn didn't see that

"Mallard!" Gosalyn chimed in. Morgana smiled at the little girl.

"Mr. Mallard, if you would please release him, I assure you he's not worth your trouble." Drake let the outraged millionaire free and she extended a hand to him. "Would you and your enchanting daughter care to join me backstage Mr. Mallard?"

"Keen gear! Would we!" Gosalyn grabbed Morgana's hand and pulled her toward the curtain. Hesitantly, Drake followed.

The glares of the hopefuls were fixed on him until he disappeared behind the curtain. The world behind the stage was dark and lit with eerie lanterns. There were curtained off sections of the big space that he knew to be the "stars'" quarters. In the center of the space a rickety table was set up. A group sat at the table, the familiar faces (mixed with a few new ones) followed them. Morgana was talking candidly with Gosalyn as she approached the table.

"Everyone this is Gosalyn Mallard. She'd very much like to meet all of you." She smiled kindly.

The were-duck, that had a mean kick, growled at the little girl. Drake fought the urge to attack the creature.

"Aren't you afraid of us terrifying monsters kid?" He snarled.

"Are you kidding? I live for this stuff! You guys are so awesome!" Gosalyn proclaimed ecstatically.

"Well it's nice to meet someone who thinks so." Laughed the cadaver duck. Then the good natured monstrosity launched into introductions. "I'm Viktor, 'the reanimated monster' as my poster says, that there is Talbot the were-duck, this is Lucy the Queen of the Frogs, though we just call her Queenie, that's Arnie the world's smallest strongman, then there's Sam the half man/half woman lion, and our ringleader the lovely sorceress Mistress Morgana Macabre. There's more of us but they're out at the moment."

"Wow! I'm Gosalyn and this is my dad Drake!"

So much for maintaining a secret identity, he groaned to himself. The eyes examined him but they did not see through him as Morgana had. Gosalyn with her unique charm quickly broke down the hesitant creatures and was making friends fast. Morgana held herself with a grace that made him recall his dreams, which made him even more uncomfortable. He stood taking in the scene, unsure of what would happen. Would they attack him if she revealed his secret? Would they use Gosalyn as bait? He was at a huge disadvantage and he hated it. When his eyes found their way back to Morgana she was already smirking at him.

"May I have a word with you in private… Drake was it?"

He didn't respond but followed her when she walked away. She led him to a thick curtain, which she pulled aside. The room beyond was dark, a rouge colored bed took up the far end, the center was occupied by an iron rod table and chairs with a clear crystal ball sitting on a gold eagle talon rested in it's center. There was a strong scent of incense that assaulted his brain; she held the curtain open as he walked in. She walked deeper into the room lighting candles with a point of a finger.

"Why do you hide your handsome face during the night?" She sauntered to the bed and sat delicately on the edge. He did not budge.

"I want you to leave Gosalyn out of this." He said firmly.

"Do you truly believe I would harm your beautiful daughter?" She said sounding genuinely hurt. "I imagine she looks like her mother?"

"She resembles her father and her mother quiet a lot actually. From what I remember anyway." He said flatly. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm afraid I'm a bit confused."

"Gosalyn is my adopted daughter."

"Oh," she flashed a dazzling smile, "…I see. Won't you please sit…. Um… what should I call you?" she laughed playfully.

"Listen. What do you want? You've got me out numbered and you've already proven yourselves to be more than I combat. So stop patronizing me!" He snapped.

"Well… how do you like that?" She said as she blinked at him. "I brought you back here to tell you that you've seduced me and you think I'm going to kill you? Darkwing darling, last night was not what it looked like. You must believe me. My friends were trying to get back something precious to me. It was taken from me and with out it my strength fades."

"You seem fine to me." His icy eyes were as cold as his voice. She sighed heavily.

"I promise I will never tell a soul your secret, so why don't you relax? I have something I want to tell you, I know it will sound ridiculous but I assure you it's true. It would just be so much nicer if you would please sit."

He couldn't help it. He wanted to trust her. It had to be how beautiful she was, and she had called him handsome. He had forgotten what a compliment that wasn't out of sarcasm could do, especially from a woman. Not that he was ever complimented by anyone near her radiance. After a moment he sat on one of the iron rod chairs. From her body language she had wanted him to sit beside her on the bed, but no matter how kindly she spoke to him he wouldn't allow himself to trust her so easily.

"What I am about to tell you is the essence of magic itself."

He had to hold in a groan. This was going to get interesting.

"When a witch or a wizard is born a true magic user, they draw their powers from an isolated personal magical source. For most they live their lives never finding or even knowing what this mystical hub is. They rely on a talisman of some kind that traps a reserve of this energy that was released when they were born. Then there are those who find their magical hub. Some come as animals, such as a cat, or others were an object like a sword or a stone, but it has also recorded that there were some that were in fact people." Her sparkling eyes held him captive, but could not dim his skepticism.

"Are you telling me that I'm this hub thing?" He heard the suspicion in his voice but by her enthusiastic nod she didn't mind.

"When we met last night didn't you feel it? We just had to be within feet of each other to have a reaction! There was a surge of energy in your case and a magic overflow in me! Then when we separated it was a serious withdrawal…. I can only imagine how ill you felt this morning. Was it like the intense symptoms of a hangover with out the alcohol consumption?" He fingered the aspirin bottle in his pocket vaguely. "But there's more, in all things, in every living creature there is a duality in the soul. You've probably heard of this before, certain people try to enhance one of the two essences for meditation, but they were meant for so much more! They're called Positrons and Negatrons. Negatrons are the negative force; they govern the world itself, restricting potential, grounding people with greed, egos, and hatred. Where Positrons enhance everything good and mystical, they guide the pure essence of life through us as they help us decide right from wrong. They intensify all that is good in this existence. So when a spell is being conjured the positrons try to create it, while the negatrons fight to repress it." She got off the bed and approached him with a dreamy smile. "You… are an exception." She looked so happy, like she was going to burst into tears, and she knelt at his feet. He shifted uncomfortably. "Darkwing Duck, Drake Mallard whoever you may be, you are made up almost entirely of positrons. I don't know how but there are an immeasurably small amount of negatrons conflicting with you!" Her hand reached toward his, he shot her a warning look and she paused. "May I show you that I haven't been lying?"

"The last time you touched me the tingling didn't stop for hours. Not to mention the…" He stopped. He didn't want to admit to the dreams.

"… the flashes of my memories? I'm afraid we imprinted each other. I was quite surprised myself to dream of an orphan who was…" she paused and met his eyes, "… treated so cruelly."

"What's to stop it from happening again?" He felt her warmth on his legs, it made his head swim.

"We're prepared now, you know as well as I do the effect we have on each other…" Her eyes peered serenely up at him.

He couldn't resist any longer. He felt his guard drop like a deep sigh, and surreal warmth crashed over him. He watched as her eyes rolled back slightly and she inhaled. The flames in the room shot up a foot and quickly returned to normality.

"You trust me?" She smiled up at him. "Can I see your hand?"

He turned his palm up and she gently placed her index and middle fingers in the center of his hand. A jolt shot through him and he bolted to his feet in alarm. He could feel every inch of him tingle like he'd been electrocuted. She stood up slowly, she was a good foot taller than him and in this light she seemed to glow. He felt something well up inside him, he pulled her close to him, felt the jolt again as she slid her arms around him. The candles suddenly extinguished themselves and he felt her lean in towards him.

"Oh Honeywumpus!" Intruded a loud voice from the other side of the curtain.

They froze and the flames re-ignited themselves. She was centimeters away and blushing.

"You can't go in there!" Cried the distraught voice of Viktor.

Drake mustered his strength and drew away from her. Her arms fell off him like wet noodles. He backed away from her and the curtain swung open. A lush bouquet of flowers entered the room followed by a balding duck with an unhandsome bulbous beak and large eyeglasses.

"Morgana my sweetest your lover boy is here!" He proclaimed.

Drake cleared his throat loudly pulling his wits about him, and the well dressed, obviously wealthy duck finally noticed him.

"I'll show myself out then Mistress Macabre, thank you for the palm reading. It was…. Interesting." He avoided looking at her. He slid through the swag and was confronted by the harsh unscented air outside her sanctum. He shuddered as the unnatural warmth left him and he felt a headache coming on. Viktor stood before him.

"You feeling alright Mr. Mallard?" He asked suspiciously.

"I'll be fine. I hope Gosalyn behaved for you." He couldn't put his finger on it, but he was sure he'd seen that man before.

"Oh she's a real stitch! I bet you're real proud of her!" Viktor started back toward the table. The way he walked complimented how he looked. He had and uneven step as if one leg was slightly longer than the other. Gosalyn was sitting on top the table entertaining the crew. A laugh erupted at her punch line and for a moment a person in a janitorial outfit came backstage.

"He got back here again!" Growled Arnie to the janitor. " Aren't you suppose to stop that from happening?" The janitor left with an angry flourish of the curtain. "I swear, I'm gunna have to break that guy's legs to keep him away from Morgana."

"Who is he?" Gosalyn piped in.

"Oh it's the one and only Reynold Tither, rich and nasty as they come." Said Sam with a shake of the head.

"No way! THAT was the owner of Quackerjack toys?" Squeaked Gosalyn.

"Yup. He's taken a real liking to Morgana…" started Queenie.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but we have to go." Interrupted Drake. A choir of disappointed voices arose and after drawn out good byes they left the tent. They passed the janitor on the way out, he was in a far corner angrily sweeping.

"So Drake, you stud! Give me all the juicy details! Did you guys totally make out?" Gosalyn burst into question.

"There are no juicy details and nothing happened! AND I don't want to hear those words come out of your mouth ever again…"

"You really like her don't you dad?"

They stopped in the bustling fair grounds and he looked down at her.

"What's with all this 'dad' stuff all of a sudden?"

"I don't know it just kinds slips in there. I'll be more careful if you want." She said bashfully.

"Don't. I like it." He smiled. She grabbed his hand and with like a shot let go.

"YOW! You shocked me!"

"Huh? Oh…. Sorry."

A soft light from an old lantern lit the room just enough for its inhabitant to find what he was looking for. This place was his but it wasn't his home. He had made so many homes over the years and each he had to leave before he was satisfied. But this place with it's skyscrapers, dark alleys, and abandoned buildings… this was the playground he dreamt of at night. This city was big and filled with children who needed to be reeducated. The mongrels ran around freely with their hand held gaming systems, their electronic doo dads and what nots. These things weren't toys. These things weren't fun, this was unacceptable. He pulled a faded polka dotted trunk out from under some riff raff. It was only a little dusty, it had the least amount of dust on it in this room, which was because he had used it more than anything else. He swung open the top and the familiar face smiled up at him, he was always so understanding. He never minded when he had to be hidden away from prying eyes, he was the best friend anyone could hope for. He smiled and sat in front of the trunk leaning in to chat with his favorite person in the whole world.

"Sorry you've been packed away so long Mr. Banana Brain, there hasn't been much chance for me to play lately."

"All work and no play makes Quackerjack a dull boy." Said the deranged looking Banana headed doll.

"I know, I know. You're the only one who seems to understand that. They all look at me like I'm wrong. They tell me what to do…"

"Not all of them."

Quackerjack stared at the doll.

"You know about that?"

"Of course I do. I'm not stupid." Sang the high-pitched voice. "But now even that one doesn't care… all they talk about it is him."

He felt so horrible. He thought he had done a good job keeping this foolish nonsense away from his dear friend, but he knew everything.

"I know. But what can I do? I've already done everything I could! All the others stopped apart from the ninny and this new one!" He whined.

"I think you know what to do. They're no better than the little monsters who destroy what we love."

"You're right." He shifted Mr. Banana Brain and pulled out the cowl made of dark black and red canvas. The large bells on the ends of the jester's cap jingled in a way that made him giddy. He smiled widely and held the cowl lovingly close.

"How do we find them Mr. Banana Brain? This city is bigger than a barrel of monkeys!"

"Maybe I can help." Said a dark voice from behind him.

His first instinct was to cower at the voice but he turned hesitantly. He felt his smile widen.

"Long time no see."

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Wooo. Long Chapter. Sorry about the length but I couldn't interrupt it and then start in the middleof it in a new chapter... it just wouldn't feel right. Sorry about the long winded magic explaination too but that part is important. ;) Okay I'm done apologizing... you go rest your eyes. :3 And yes next chapter will have ACTION to make up for all this yappin.