'Why?'

A/N: The ultimate question is sought but the darkness echoes no valid response and not even a word of comfort can be found in the void that is life. And in as much as there is no answer, there lies the truth.

'Because such is life.'

Why Do You Miss?

Darkwing jumped awake with the sound of a small alarm. He looked around at Morgana's lounge room.

"Morgana?"
"She's at work, dad." Gosalyn reported, walking into the room. "I think your phone is calling you."
"Oh." He reached into his pocket and turned it off. "I've slept all those hours away." He realised guiltily as he grabbed a set of suburban clothes from the bundle beside the bag. "Some boyfriend; I didn't even find a decent place to-."
"What's the alarm for?"
"It's nearly nine. Eider is expecting me back at Hamil Corp." He went upstairs to get changed.

Gosalyn was waiting when he came back down. "You really trust a bunch of vampires more than you do Agent Grizlykoff, huh?"
"That kind of says a lot about things, doesn't it? No, these vampires are pretty reasonable."
"They're still major league dangerous." She hugged him.

"Well, so am I, hon. Now don't forget to-."
"I won't! Hurry up or you'll be late!" She gave him a gentle shove.

Drake recalled the security level reception area to mind, bringing the image of the brown painting with its swirling dots to his vision, the way the magazines sat in a perfectly straight stack, the indirect lights here and there, the reception desk to the right ... he felt the air change around him. The smell of spice faded quickly, the only lingering scent was directly on his feathers from using Morgana's shower herbs.

"Oh hello, Drake." Joss stepped out from behind the desk and stood next to him. "Lawrence felt it was important that you go field with us. It would ... encourage teamwork." She hesitated, and held out her hand to him. "I apologise for yesterday. I honestly didn't even think it would affect you like that. I am sorry."

"Well that's ..." He considered this new turn of events. "Thank you." He shook her hand.

Then, conspicuously, she sniffed.
"Is there anything the matter, Joss?" He asked sweetly.
"No, just a bit ..." She shrugged uncomfortably. "... You smell a bit like a witch."
"Don't tell me you've got a problem with witches, Joss?"
"Uh, no, of course not." She responded quickly. "Here." She handed him the black outfit from the reception desk. "Once you're organised we'll have a briefing session in the control room."

"Huh." Drake took it and headed to the restrooms. "This is a lot easier without that stupid briefcase in tow."

The party continued on, loud into the night.

Preena cornered her father out on the patio of the high rise penthouse apartment.
"So ... the top floor, huh?"
"Yeah, it's not a lot, but we can afford it."
He snorted into his wine glass. "Preena, I'm not stupid; you're after money. I know these tricks. I lived with your mother for seven years."

Preena's face went back to her usual savage expression. "I think we have some good business deals available between us."
"You really are just like your mother; always wanting to take a piece out of a guy."

"Mum didn't want a piece of you; she threw you out."

"Of course she'd say that, Preena. Think about it, use your brain. Saying that makes her look good. Just like all these ... associates of yours make you look good. Maybe if you'd married Drakey Mallard you'd be a better person."
Preena's face went blank. "Drake ... he's a ... really nice person ..."
"Oh, Preena." Cammy sighed and shook his head, taking another mouthful of wine. "You two got along so well in kindergarten."

"Why'd you come if you knew this was going to dredge up unhappy memories?"
"Because I wanted to see my daughter again. I mean that, really. I never got to see you growing up; I never got to be around. The closest I got was sending that money through for the private school and for college."

"I didn't go to any private school." Preena frowned at him.
"Well, that's where your mother said she was sending you. She must've spent it on plastic surgery instead." He shrugged. "I don't care about her anymore. I haven't for a long time." He downed the last of the glass.

"If that was true you wouldn't even need to talk about her."
He sighed. "You say you're trying to turn over a new leaf, Preena. Keep working on it because you've got a long way yet."
"Well, thank you for that."
"No, Preena, I ..." He cursed as he watched her step back inside.

Grizlykoff entered the Hamil Corp foyer and approached the reception desk.

"Name, sir?" The receptionist looked up at him.
"I am agent Vladimir Goodenov Grizlykoff investigative agent for S.H.U.S.H. I am looking for an employee of Hamil Corporation named Drake Mallard."

"Just a moment." The receptionist typed as he looked at his screen. "Mr. Mallard is on an induction training schedule at the moment, sir."
"I'm sure you can find him time to speak to a law enforcement official."
"Speak?" The receptionist blinked, typing away as he stared at the screen.

"Agent Grizlykoff, what is the meaning of this?"

Grizlykoff turned around, surprised to find his short avian superior standing there behind him. "Ah, Director Hooter. I was just seeing to locate-."

"I've double checked, sir." Grizlykoff turned back to the receptionist as he spoke. "He won't be showing up at the offices at all for the rest of the night. He's scheduled for field training. His section head is in though. I've called Lawrence Eider up to speak with you instead."
"Field training?" Grizlykoff repeated. "What sort of work is this Drake Mallard doing?"

"Safety, security and pest management."

He and Hooter turned to see a medium sized duck, quite young looking, approaching from the lift area.
"That's quite a variable list of duties." Hooter commented.
"Drake Mallard is an invaluable addition with his skills and experience. I'm Lawrence Eider, head of the security department here. Do you have any other questions?"
"Where is Drake Mallard?" Grizlykoff repeated with a supressed growl.

Lawrence Eider stepped up to Grizlykoff, a thoughtful look on his face. "In the force, we called this sort of thing 'emotionally compromised'."
"The force?" Hooter repeated in surprise.
"Check the police records, sir. Lawrence Eider on service to SCPD for eighteen years." Eider turned away. "I know what hampering a police investigation is. On the other hand, I have already spoken with Darkwing Duck. Good evening."

Grizlykoff growled as the department manager turned his back on them and headed back to the lifts. "I would-."
"That is enough, agent." Hooter admonished.
"Sir, you must surely see this ... Drake Mallard is merely a house of cards."
"A house of cards that is still unlikely to have killed Curtis Mane. Come along. We are going to leave this investigation to Darkwing Duck." Hooter moved to the foyer entrance, his agent reluctantly following. "I want to see you in my office expeditiously, agent."

Given the time was now well past nine in the evening, there was barely any traffic on the roads as Hooter drove back to headquarters, Grizlykoff's van in his rear vision mirror.

A scarce few minutes later, Hooter trotted down the even more deserted corridors of S.H.U.S.H. headquarters and opened the door to his office in complete silence. Grizlykoff followed, an uneasy set of footsteps behind him.

"Close the door, agent."

He heard the click and turned around. "You intercepted Drake Mallard against orders." Hooter announced his underling's error, feeling appalled.
"We file form with-."
"There was a reason I assigned Darkwing Duck to the case, Grizlykoff. Drake Mallard is now aware he is under investigation."

"The conversations we collected this morning are nearly fruitless." He gestured to the paperwork in his tray. "Interestingly, Mallard takes a great exception to you." He pointed at Grizlykoff. "So much so that he believes you would harm his daughter. Now, where on earth do you suppose he could have gotten such an impression of you, do you think?"
"The ... interception."
Hooter nodded grimly.

Grizlykoff struggled to keep his head up from the chiding. "The object is to prevent Drake Mallard from murdering more people."
"No, the object is to find out whether he did murder those people in the first place. And if he did, then we stop him. You have made Darkwing's job that much more difficult."

Hooter sat down, calming himself. "Recall your men."
"But sir, he is a dangerous murderer."
"There is no proof, agent. And now our investigation is out in the open, we need to deal with it formally. I want all your men recalled from this case, agent. Now."

Grizlykoff straightened. "Yes, sir." He about faced and left the room in a hurry.

Cammy stepped out of the bathroom and into the corridor.

In the harsh electric light, it was just one of the party goers. "Cammy Lott. I've been waiting all night to get you alone."
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember me?"
"I'm sorry, it takes a while for me to remember a ..." Cammy traced the eyes, the ragged mouth, and the weary toll that years of harsh living had wrought back to their more youthful origins. "Storkein Harris. Oh, my god." He staggered back, his hand to his chest. "You did it, didn't you? You killed Mallard. You ..." His breaths came short. "You ..."

"You returned finally. I've waited for years to get even with the last of you traitors."
"You don't know yet ... what you've done ... you ..."
Harris raised the gun, causing Cammy to scream in fear.

Lott collapsed without him firing a single shot.

Harris came and stooped over the traitor. But before he could think of finishing the job, Preena String and half a dozen other party goers were pouring into the corridor. He quickly pocketed the gun.
"Who are you?" The business woman had a mind to ask.
"I think he's having a heart attack."
"Daddy!" Preena knelt down beside her treacherous father.

"I shall call an ambulance." Harris lied politely before sidling out of the picture and away from the onlookers.

Unwatched, Harris escaped from the apartment and stepped into the lift, grinning.