A/N: 'Parallels' and 'Cause and Effect' are both legitimate episodes of Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek: The Next Generation. It is a family show, it is a science fiction/action genre, and it is a story about people and morals.

A/N: I could edit this forever, but I shall post it as it currently is.

A/NL Okaay, so I've split this chapter, which would've been easier for me to post in the first place considering the hours and hours and hours it took for me to get it from text to ... whatever the heck format that Fan uses.

St. Canard Prime: Part 1

Part One

Dark Duck stood up, his head spinning. He collapsed to the ground again, trying to make sense of the static in his head.

"Gosalyn?" He stood up in a panic. "Where are you?" He spun around on the spot. "M-Morg?" They were gone. "Raya?" He crumpled to the ground in mourning.

"Hey, look, it's Darkwing Duck. Let's get him!"

" 'Get him'?" Dark stood up, feeling calmer in the face of the familiar. He turned to shadow and dodged the two thugs. They spun around looking for him, and he snapped a pair of handcuffs between them before they could throw a single punch. "It's been a long while since I heard that line, fellas." He turned around to them, his cape swirling. "Let me get you a cab to the police station."

"Hey, we ain't done nothing wrong."
"Yeah, let us go."
"What about that robbery you two did last week on old mister Wicker's place, Scree?"
"How'd you know about that?"
"Oh, I know everything about you, Yale." He smiled quietly at them.
"Impossible."
"Sure, like you're really telepathic or something."
"Well, I am. For example; the cab I promised. Here it is." He gestured to the oncoming vehicle. The police car slowed to a stop right in front of them. A police officer got out, with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What am I ...?"
"These are for you, officer Newton." Darkwing Duck offered him in his typical detective tone of voice. "Drunken, disorderly and causing a public menace. Yale and Scree here, also have something to say about last week's burglary on Wicker's place."

Bob Newton bundled them into the car. "Oh, by the way, how did you ..." The officer turned and looked around the empty street. "Call me?" Overhead, a bat chirruped as it flew high up into the sky. Otherwise the night was still and silent. Bob shrugged and turned back to the car.

"Wait a minute, what's freaked you two out?" Their eyes were wide and their faces were a gaunt white.
"V-v-v ...!" Yale stuttered.
"There was a v-vampire." Scree announced.
"Oh, please." Bob groaned as he got back into the car. He turned to his partner. "When we get back, we'll get a tox' screen on these two grunge addicts." He told her as she drove them back to the station. "I think they're stoned totally out of their minds."

"No! He was a v-v-v ... Darkwing Duck was a-a ..." Yale's voice was a weak squeak.
"Don't worry; once we get you processed you can have a nice bunk all to yourself in a nice secure cell and sleep it off."
"S-s-sleep? Y-you mean ... with the l-lights off?" Yale squeaked again.

"I-isn't that when ... when they come and g-get you? He's a bat; he could just slip in through the bars."
Bob grunted. "We're too far north for vampire bats, guys."
"No, you don't understand! It was a real one. For real, he turned into a bat." Scree claimed.

"Well, maybe if you're good and tell the truth, the vampire won't get you." Bob mocked.
"Y-yeah! W-we'll tell you everything! Sure! Won't we, Yale?"
"Yes! Yes, definitely yes!"