Quick note: It's been years since I last saw a DW episode, but still love it. So please excuse my lack of memory of the show and enjoy.
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The stone gargoyle that sat next to Darkwing had its tongue sticking out and its eyes cross. For some odd reason, there was gum stuck between its toes and the aged cracks that ran down its back spelled out the name "Greg."
Darkwing sighed. He had been staring at this gargoyle for the past two hours. At first, he thought the gargoyle was the ugliest thing in the world. Now, that he spent two hours studying its features, he deemed the cold inanimate creature to be a friend. A real ugly friend.
He WAS supposed to be waiting for Bushroot. Darkwing had heard a rumor that the half bush, half duck was going to rob a greenhouse nursery. Knowing that Bushroot like nights where no one could see him, Darkwing got to the nursery early, just as the summer sun went down at nine o' clock. And waited.
And waited.
And…waited.
And finally at eleven…came to the conclusion that the rumor was just as it is. A rumor.
Groaning, Darkwing leaned against old Greg, feeling very stupid and incredibly bored. He should probably wait one more hour, just to be sure, but his gut told him it would be pointless. If Bushroot wasn't coming…he wasn't coming.
Two hours earlier, the unmasked duck had to beg his young daughter to stay home and…stay home.
"But Daaaaaaaad…" Gosalyn whined, "I wanna see you use your new entrance line and Launchpad's new weapon and-"
"And no 'buts' Gos," Drake Mallard told his daughter. "I told you once; I told you a million times, it's too dangerous for a little girl like you. I don't want to see you getting hurt."
"I'm not going to get hurt!" The young girl insisted, bouncing around her father's tall figure. "Besides, most of the bad guys you fight couldn't hit the side of a barn, let alone me! So can I go? Pleeeeeeease?"
"No."
"But-"
"No! And that's final!" And with that, Drake scooped up his daughter, placed her on the couch right next to Launchpad and placed his arms on his hips. "You're going to stay here, watch some TV with Launchpad and then go to bed. No ands, ifs, or buts about it or you're grounded."
"But-"
Drake glared his daughter down. Seeing her father's raised eyebrow, Gosalyn crossed her arms and leaned into the couch stubbornly. "Fine," She muttered, letting Launchpad's arm go over her shoulder.
"Heh, don't worry DW," Launchpad reassured his friend and turned on the TV. "Dracula and I will watch over Gos while you're gone." As soon as he said that, a scream from the movie erupted, gaining his attention. Gosalyn stared at the black and white movie, still with the annoyed look on her face, determined not to enjoy herself.
Drake kissed Gosalyn on the head and said to her, "Don't watch too many horror movie, okay? I don't want to come home to find you guys barricading yourselves in the kitchen like last time."
Annoyed with Bushroot and with himself, Darkwing retook his position next to Greg. Even though all he wanted to do was go home and watch rated-B horror movies with Gosalyn.
"Wished I stayed home." He whispered to himself, unknowing how true his words would become.
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The rain pounded on the windows outside, hitting the glass so fiercely that Cassandra feared it might break. The occasion lighting flash illuminated her dark home, forming distorted shadows and shapes.
"Hello?" The young woman spoke into the dark. "Is anyone there?"
The rain splatter came her only response. Cassandra took a deep breath and kept walking quietly through her house, not noticing the dark figure coming up behind her. Another flash of lighting reflected off the metal edge of the axe as it raised high in the air. A quick powerful swipe and Cassandra's head came off.
"EWWWW!" Gosalyn squealed delightfully. "He chopped off her head! That was so cool!"
After Dracula ended, Gosalyn convinced Launchpad to watch her secret collection of horror movies. Among the pile on top of the coffee table, laid titles like "Killer Babies" - "Stab and slash" and "GORE."
If there was a plot line among the list, Launchpad will never know. As soon as one movie was over, Gosalyn would pop in another movie and fast forward to the suspenseful parts. So for the past hour, Launchpad had watched over fifteen movies, only watching scenes where people were decapitated, stabbed, burned, run over, hanged, mutilated and eaten. So for the past hour, he had been hiding behind a pillow.
"Gosalyn, please, can we watch something else?" He begged, holding the pillow up to block his view point.
"Sure!" Gosalyn said enthusiastically, searching through her many movies. "How 'bout…Flesh Eaters of Planet X?"
"Ughh…" Launchpad moaned, digging his face even further into the pillow.
"Aw, stop being such a baby!" Gosalyn told him, slapping him on the back. "If you don't want to watch, why don't you cook some of that frozen pizza we have in the freezer?"
"You feel like eating?" Launchpad said dumfounded.
"Of course," Goaslyn told him, fast forwarding to another blood splatter scene. "I always get hungry when I watch my favorite movies."
Not knowing whether to be amazed or thoroughly disgusted, Launchpad gratefully got up from the couch and went to the kitchen.
In the freezer, like Gosalyn said, laid five super deep dish pizzas. Grabbing one, Launchpad proceeded to preheat the oven, strip the pizza of its wrappings and stuffed it inside the oven.
"Launchpad, come quickly! It's a human sacrifice scene!"
"Ughhhh…" Launchpad groaned and left the kitchen.
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At twelve-thirty, Darkwing decided to call it a night. Bushroot was not going to show his green face and DW felt even stupider for staying an extra half hour.
Drake made sure he did not come home through the hidden passageways of his house. If he knew Gosalyn, every light in the house will be on and every door way will be booby trap. It'll be safer to knock and walk through the front door rather than getting risk getting knocked over the head with a bucket.
The walk home was leaning between being pleasant and being very uncomfortable. The night was clear and fine, the moon shining high above, giving much more light than any street lamp could ever do. On the other hand, so much humidity floated in the air, making it very hard to breath. Within a few minutes, Drake was sweating underneath his vest, the fabric sticking to his back.
Despite that, Drake felt very content as he walked down the familiar neighborhood. He chose to live this neighborhood five years before he adopted Gosalyn. The streets were clean; the people were nice…perfect place to raise a family.
A loud screaming sound wheeled past him, two police cars flew down the streets with their lights on.
Well…almost perfect. Drake knew there were a few renegade adolescents who sometimes break windows and leave burning brown paper bags on front porches. But none of those misdemeanors would be considered bad enough to call the police. Drake walked faster.
Watching the flashing lights turn the corner, Drake made the mental note from the end of that street; a right took them into his neighborhood. As soon as the lights disappeared from his view, he looked to the sky to concentrate where the sound of the sirens were going. That was when he saw the smoke.
Out in a full blown sprint, Drake could feel his fear rising by every step. He knew the police cars took a right and he knew they were going down near his house.
Let it be another house…please.
The fire that erupted from his home was brighter than the street lights or the moon. Firefighters surrounded his two story house, holding long hard fire hoses, pumping the burning inferno with hundred gallons of water. Neighbors crowded around at a safe distance, holding their nightgowns tightly as they watched.
"Gosalyn!" Drake began screaming, running past the confused neighbors, pushing his way through. "GOSALYN!"
Through the bodies of the police and firemen, Drake desperately searched through the masses, looking for familiar faces. "Launchpad!" He cried out, coming up to his old friend.
Launchpad looked like hell. Half of his body was smoking, ash and soot covered his face. Paramedics were all over him, wrapping his arms in gauze and washing off the soot. He looked up, saw Drake and smiled. "Hey D," He said without any hardship. "Uh…sorry about your house."
"Forget about that!" Drake cried out relieved. If Launchpad was this calm, that meant Gosalyn was fine. "What happened? Are you okay? Where's Gosalyn?" All the questions came out in a rush, a panic attack ready to happen.
"Well-ow!" Launchpad began, wincing as the nurse whoto tended to him handed his arm roughly. "I don't know how the fire started, but I think I must've left a pizza in the oven. I'm fine, just a few scratches from falling over. And Gosalyn is over there, talking to that nice woman." Launchpad pointed and Drake followed his finger to a black car parked not far away. Sitting in the back passenger seat, Gosalyn talked to a tall woman in black.
"Gosalyn!" Drake yelled out, running towards the car. "I'm so glad you're all right!"
Gosalyn looked up, smiled and before she could utter a word, the tall woman she was speaking to suddenly slam the car door.
She wouldn't let Drake through. She stood between him and Gosalyn, blocking his daughter from view.
"Are you Drake Mallard?" She demanded.
"Uh, yes I am," Drake said confused, unable to get around the woman.
"I'm Elizabeth Griffin," She spoke harshly, holding out a small golden badge. "I'm a child welfare officer."
Drake's blood turn cold. He stopped trying to move around the tall woman and listen.
"Where were you tonight?" She asked him, putting away her badge.
Drake quickly thought out his options. "I was with a friend."
"Till past midnight?"
Drake didn't like where this was going. "It was an old friend."
"And you thought fit to leave your nine year old daughter with your 'other' friend?"
"Launchpad is a very reliable person. Why are you asking all these questions?" Drake demanded, feeling his anxiety reaching its breaking point.
"You mean it isn't obvious?" Ms. Griffin spoke coldly to him. "Your nine year old daughter was caught in a fire, her guardian gone till past midnight, only to be left home alone with a man who is obviously not suited to take care of a child. Mr. Mallard, I'm charging you with neglect and endangerment."
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A/N: Hee hee hee! Boy, have I miss this series!
Anyhoo, R/R!