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A Darkwing Duck universe fan fic
By Katie Sullivan, 1997
“Dad, sir, where are we going?” asked an innocent girl’s
voice.
“Shut up before I put
you on the business end of a blowtorch,” Negaduck hissed.
He ducked out of the
alleyway long enough to scope out the street. No one in sight. Good. Of
course, at three in the morning, this wasn’t surprising.
Negaduck stepped out of the alley and strode
boldly down the sidewalk. A girl in a frilly pink dress with
red ringlets around her cheeks scampered behind him. Her shiny black shoes scuffed
on the pavement, in contrast to his stealthy bare webs.
“Dad, sir, can I help
this time?”
“No!” he snarled,
turning around long enough to jab an angry finger at her. “I let you come along
so you’d stop whining. Now shut your ugly beak and stay out of the way!”
“Yes, sir,” she
said with disappointment.
Negaduck grumbled curses
and continued on his way. The truth was, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was
going to do. It was a damp, starless night: a perfect environment in which to do
evil. But Negaduck’s mind was strangely void of ideas. Villain's block,
he thought disgustedly. And having Pollyanna on my heels isn’t helping!
They came upon a grocery
store whose front door had been conspicuously
compromised. Shards of glass covered the ground
where the door had shattered.
No points for subtlety, Negaduck thought
disdainfully. Noise of moving boxes came from inside the darkened store. Curiosity
got the better of him. He had to see what kind of incompetent villain would be so
careless.
He crept into the store,
his feet crunching on the pebbles of broken glass. The girl followed at a much
closer distance than he would have liked.
Negaduck followed the noise to the back of the
store. There, crouched over an
open crate, was a form in a silky blue gown. A mass
of curly black hair spilled onto her shoulders. She rummaged through the box,
oblivious to his presence.
Negaduck purposely drew the
largest gun he had and said simply, “Boo.”
She spun around, her eyes
wide in alarm, and pointed a handgun at him. “Who are you?” she
asked. Her voice carried the slightest trace of a French accent.
Negaduck frowned even more
deeply than usual. “Who am I? You mean you don’t know?”
“I know you’re a
short duck in a really tacky suit and an ugly hat,” she said
cheekily, unfazed by the gigantic rifle staring her down.
Negaduck sputtered in
rage. “For your information, this is a perfectly stylish
outfit, and second of all, I am Negaduck, Lord and Supreme
Master of the Negaverse, Leader of the Fearsome Five, and Public Enemy Number One.”
“I thought Doctor Slug was Public Enemy Number
One,” the woman said.
Negaduck contemplated pulling the trigger right then
and there, but something
stopped him. There was an evil, spirited glint in
her eyes which was strangely familiar. He realized where he had seen it before.
In the mirror.
“Look, sister, I
don’t know who you are, but this has got to be the sloppiest
burglary I’ve ever seen,” he said, lowering his
weapon slightly.
“The name’s Dalila
Featherae. My friends call me Duchess.”
“What makes you think
I’m your friend?” he scoffed.
She smiled disarmingly.
“Because you haven’t shot me yet.”
“Yet.”
“Besides,” she
continued, “your gun is larger than mine. Why argue?” She
lowered her pistol and stood in a remarkably relaxed
position.
Negaduck replaced his
rifle in the seemingly infinite depths of his cape and let his frown lessen a
fraction. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“What does it
look like? I’m stealing stuff.”
He looked behind her
into the crate. “Tuna?”
“A girl’s got to
eat. But I’m not as stupid as you think,” she said, opening a paper
bag. She pulled out a fistful of cash. “I did empty the cash
registers.”
“You’re still stupid. Don’t you
realize you’ve set off a silent alarm? The police
could be here any second. Or worse, that
idiot--”
A sudden puff of
purple smoke interrupted him. “I am the terror that flaps in the night! I
am the coupon that expired yesterday! I am--”
“Yeah, yeah, we
know. Darkwing Dork.”
A wounded-looking Darkwing
Duck emerged from the cloud of smoke. “You ruined my entrance!”
“Poor baby,”
Negaduck said.
“So, Negs, since when
have you stooped to robbing supermarkets?”
"Since when have you
stooped to defending them?” Negaduck jeered.
“The fun’s over,
Negaduck. Prepare to be dazzled into defeat by my daring--”
Negaduck fired a gun at
him. Darkwing jumped to the side to avoid the bullet and ended up crashing into a
towering stack of soup cans. The pyramid immediately collapsed, sending Darkwing
into a frenzied scramble to stay on his feet.
“Whoooooah!” Darkwing yelled, flailing his arms for balance.
He and the cans were rolling toward the
evildoers. They collided in a mass of
capes, hats, feathers and soup cans, tumbling over into a
rack of cereal boxes.
Negaduck found himself sprawled painfully on bumpy
cans with a dazed woman
lying across his back.
“Get off me,” he
growled, shoving her aside. She groaned and rolled off him.
While Darkwing was
recovering his senses, Negaduck made a dash for the door.
This plan of escape would have
worked had his surrogate daughter not tripped on a stray soup can right behind him.
She sent them both toppling to the ground once again.
Negaduck immediately felt
the onset of a badly sprained ankle. Blast that rotten girl for tagging along!
Dalila was suddenly beside
him. “Come on,” she said, urging him out the door.
Behind them, Darkwing Duck
moaned and rose to his hands and knees.
Negaduck tried to follow the two female ducks, but
his injured ankle buckled
under him He swore loudly as he banged his knee on
the pavement.
“Dad!” the girl
cried.
Dalila rushed back and
helped him up. Supporting him by the arm, she shooed him into a gray car parked
right outside on the street.
“You parked your
getaway car right outside the store?” Negaduck said in disgust.
“Yes, and aren’t
you glad?” Dalila said, shoving him in the back seat next to the girl and slamming
the door shut. She hopped into the driver’s seat and gunned the gas.
Just as the car noisily
lurched into motion, Darkwing dashed out of the supermarket, brandishing his gas gun.
“Come back here,
Negadrip!” he shouted. He fired a gas capsule, which bounced off the rear
windshield and harmlessly emitted its smoke in the gutter.
Despite the throbbing in
his ankle, Negaduck couldn’t suppress a satisfied smile at the sight of the furious
purple figure disappearing into the distance.
“Dad, sir, your ankle
is swelling,” the girl said with concern.
“I know that, Nego
slyn,” he said through clenched teeth with strained patience.
Dalila sped around a
corner, ignoring a red light. “We’ll go back to my place and get you some
ice.”
“Don’t do
me any favors, sister.”
“I’m not
your sister, and if you want your ankle to swell up and be black and blue and painful,
you’re more than welcome to get out right now. But I saved your tailfeathers from
that caped clown back there, don’t forget.”
“I’d have done something,”
he said defensively.
“You can’t even
stand.”
He slouched and
uncharacteristically bit his tongue.
Dalila drove swiftly into
the night, into the urban depths of St. Canard.
They reached a run-down
apartment building downtown. Dalila got out and
helped a reluctant Negaduck out of the back seat.
She led the limping mallard and his concerned child into the dark building. It was a
small apartment, sparsely decorated but clean.
Too clean, Negaduck
thought.
“Here,” Dalila
said, letting him drop onto a tan couch. Negaduck slouched and put his injured ankle
up on the round coffee table. Negoslyn scrambled up onto the couch beside him and
hugged his arm.
“Are you all
right?” she asked.
“I’m fine,”
he grumbled.
“You may be, but your
ankle looks terrible. Let me get you some ice,” Dalila said, crossing the
one-room apartment to the refrigerator. She returned moments later with a plastic
bag of ice.
Negaduck spoke not a word
of thanks, but he privately admitted that the pain was subsiding under the chill.
Dalila pulled over a rusty
chair and sat facing her guests. Her blue dress was short enough to reveal a large
amount of her shapely legs. “So,” she said, regarding him with a
half-smile, half-frown. “You’re the infamous Negaduck.”
He scowled from beneath the
brim of his hat.
“I thought you’d be
taller,” she said.
She had hit a sore spot.
“You don’t need the height of a basketball player to use a chainsaw,” he
snapped. He pulled a chainsaw from behind his cape and raised the growling weapon in
the air over the coffee table.
Dalila regarded him with
surprising calmness. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Why not?” he
sneered.
“Because if you cut
the table in half, you won’t have anything to put your foot up on.”
He scowled, but, realizing
her logic, put away the chainsaw and settled back on the couch. “So who are
you, anyway?” he asked bluntly.
She smiled. “I
told you. Dalila Featherae. A.K.A. Duchess.”
“I know that.
But who are you?”
“You want the long
version or the short version?”
“Just spit it out,
sister.”
“For the last time, I’m
not your sister, and I’m a fashion model. At least, I used to be until I
formed a habit of taking the studio’s jewelry home and not returning it. And
then there was that little incident with the time bomb in my rival’s dressing
room. Anyway, I decided a life of crime would be more profitable. And more
fun.”
“You’re not very
good at it,” Negaduck said.
“Give me a
break. I’m new at it.”
“You have the right to
remain stupid. Should you give up this right, anything you do can and will still
fail miserably.”
“Why?”
“You broke every rule
of villainy back there. You might as well have left a neon sign outside saying
‘Come and arrest me’!”
“It wasn’t that
bad.”
“You left your car out
in plain sight. With the license plates on it, no less!”
Negaduck continued. “And then you took time out
of your ill-conceived escape to do a good deed, of all things.”
“Honor among
thieves. Besides, would you rather have been arrested by the Moron who Trips in the
Night?”
He remained silent.
“You’re
welcome,” she said with a disgusted sigh.
“Thank you,”
Negoslyn said belatedly but politely.
A smile crossed
Dalila’s face. “You know, for a supervillain, you have a very cute
daughter.”
“Don’t
remind me,” Negaduck said, narrowing his eyes at the bundle of pink lace and
sweetness cuddled at his side. The girl yawned widely.
Dalila took this as a cue
for action. She stood and said, “You’re in no shape to go anywhere
tonight. I’ll get you some pillows and blankets.”
“It’s just a
little sprained ank--”
She put a finger to his
lips and shushed him. “No arguments. You’re staying.”
She went over to the closet and
dug out some pillows.
Negaduck felt like he was
almost a prisoner of this beautiful burglar. Still, he was tired, and his ankle was
sore...and she was extremely attractive...
Dalila relegated Negoslyn
to a blanket in the corner and spread a similar pallet for herself on the floor.
Negaduck observed all this and realized she was leaving him the couch, which was
apparently the only thing resembling a bed in the cramped apartment. He hid a
smile. At least she knew better than to ask the Supreme Ruler of the Negaverse to
sleep on the floor!
“You must trust
me,” he said with malevolent amusement. “I could kill you in your
sleep.”
Dalila laid down on the
layers of blankets and smirked. “I can take care of
myself.”
“You don’t
realize what you’re up against.”
She smiled and stretched
luxuriously. “Neither do you.” She turned off the floor lamp, and
the room fell into darkness.
“Good night, Dad,
sir,” came Negoslyn’s cheery voice.
“Good night,
Gos,” he grumbled, knowing that ignoring her would prolong
the...ug...pleasantries.
Negaduck sighed and settled
down on the lumpy couch. He was soon asleep.
His dreams were haunted by
a dark-haired duck in a blue dress...
Okay, I'm hooked! On to part 2!
I've read warning labels on cleaning products more interesting
than this drivel! Take me back!
This story is copyright 1997 Katie Sullivan and may not be
reproduced without permission. All characters contained herein except Dalila
"Duchess" Featherae are copyright by the Walt Disney Corporation and are used
without permission but with a great deal of affection.
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