When Drake returned to the vehicle, he found Honker nose first in a book and Gosalyn with the music up loud enough to rattle your teeth in your skull, imitating the electric guitar humming in the background.
Sitting behind the wheel and lowering the volume, he sat silent, his face still but his thoughts in hyper-drive.
"Dad? What was that all about?" Gosalyn asked as he shook himself from his daze.
"Wha-huh?"
"Does my mom seem a little different to you, Mr. Mallard?" Drake could feel Honker's fragile state radiating from his questioning eyes.
"Huh? I-uh, no. Not at all." He lied bad enough to make a nun plug her nose as he reversed out of the driveway and drove in the direction of St. Canard High School.

***************

"Wow, Dark. I never knew 'normal' food could taste so delicious." Morgana stated as he led her out of the upper class restaurant. He smiled at her comically, and when she noticed, he explained, "I just never thought I'd hear you say you enjoyed normal food. Indifference? Yes. Toleration? Most definately, but enjoyed? Wow."
Morgana raised an eyebrow at his statement. "Oh, That so?" she smiled.
"Yeah..oh, look!" He immediently motioned towards the sky. Morgana followed his gaze. "What? What? A shooting star?"
"Noo," he said with a grin. "I just saw a pig fly by."
Morgana caught the joke and shoved him playfully. Laughing, she took a seat in the passenger side of his new vehicle after he opened the door. Taking his place behind the wheel, she shifted her legs and asked casually what else he had in store for the evening. Smiling eloquently, he eyed her short black dress and hair falling consummately about her shoulders and said, "Oh, I have an idea or two."

With his Tahoe perched at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the city, he turned the radio on a soft music station and looked at her. She laughed at his actions.
"Oh, I see. So you buy me dinner and expect me to return the favor? For a crimefighter, you really are quite naughty." She gave him a smile that set his heart ablaze. Drake leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms out. "Well, the way I see it, it's a beautiful night, the cops are patrolling for me, and I look really really hot." He grinned as he looked at his open black dinner jacket, white collared longsleeved shirt and loose khaki pants. Morgana laughed at his observation.
"Oh, so you're the hotter one in this car, hmm? Well then, you can just love on yourself here at makeout point.." She watched him as he slid from the driver's side into the backseat. He gave her a smile as he looked at her gorgeous face, lit only by the light of the dash and stereo controls radiating from the front of the vehicle. Helping her into the backseat as well, he sat her by him and ran his fingers through her hair. It felt like he was gliding his hands through strands of pure silk.
"Morgana, you are by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life." He murmered as he gently brushed her hair back and kissed the nape of her neck.
Morgana closed and eyes and sighed at his intrepid skill, yet before she got so caught up in the moment, she gave in to her curiosity. "I just have to ask.."
"Hmm?" He replied, busying his lips too much to give a good reply.
"Why'd you bring me to makeout point when we could just go to your house?"
Drake ceased his movement to look at her, and with a boyish grin, said, "Well, I haven't been here since I was seventeen, and that was with Sandy Roberts in the back seat of my 1973 Mustang." She gigled as he kissed her on the mouth.
"Plus," he added. "I just bought this SUV, and I'm dying to try out the shocks..."

Driving down the road towards his home, Drake blasted the defrost in a desperate attempt to rid the moisture plastered on the windows.
He looked over at Morgana, who was engrossed in the after effects of their actions. Her dress was wrinkled, her hair was damp and askew, and perspiration trickled down her body. She opened her eyes when she felt his gaze on her.
She laughed, "You buttoned your shirt wrong." She looked at the sweat flattening out the feathers on his head.
"Well, it's the best I could do in the time we had."
She giggled insidiously. "Oh, I can't believe we were busted by the police! Wasn't that the most hilarious thing ever?"
Drake cracked a smile. "The funniest was that swipe you made on my back glass with your hand."
Morgana batted her eyes at him. "Well, I wanted to pretend I was on the movie 'Titanic.'" She smiled as she leaned over and licked his neck. He raised an eyebrow.
"Again?"
"There's just something about you that I'm addicted to." She trailed her fingers delicately down his gleaming chest as she gave him an expertly placed hicky on his neck.
"Well, no one's at my house. Lp's in Duckberg visiting family and Gos is at Honker's." He looked at her with a mischevious grin. Morgana matched his intimations with a smile.
"Okay then, Darkwing Duck. Let's get dangerous."

Her moaning chants of his name were so loud that it muted the screeches coming from outside, but he heard them.
The first set of screams he barely placed and didn't allot them room to be deciphered and placed in his mind...other things took precedent. Despite that, the shreaks continued on and as Morgana sucked in a ragged breath and dug her nails hard enough into his back to draw blood, the wails of pure terror resonated in his head, and he sprang from this bed, heart thumping wildly.
"Wha..what?! What's going on?" Morgana gasped breathlessly as she watched him flop off the bed (stupid sheets) and onto the floor.
"Screams. From the Muddlefoot's." He choked as he slid on his boxers and his crumpled khakis. It was when the air was quiet that she heard them too, and in a flash was also off the bed. She grabbed his white button-down shirt from the floor and a pair of his flannel pajama pants he had folded on his dresser top and and threw them on, falling far behind Drake as he tore down the stairs, bare chested and frantic. She ran after him, struggeling to pull up her pants.

The door to the Muddlefoot's was locked, and when two prominant knocks proved unsuccessful, Drake stood back and in a swift motion kicked open the door, rupturing the dead-bolt and all.
Morgana had just caught sight of his attack on the now split front door as she sprinted across the cool, damp grass of the adjoining yards and followed behind him inside the house, utterly shocked at his entry on the first attempt.
"Gosalyn!! Gosalyn where are you?!" Drake screamed for her in a voice that was both aggressive and terrified. Not getting a response sent pinpricks up his spine as he exploded through the swinging saloon-style kitchen doors.

He saw her. Dead and bleeding on the floor. He stopped still the instant he saw her body. Gosalyn, who was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, ran to him, crying.
"Gos!" He yelled as she ran and nearly tackled him to the ground in an attempt for protection and alleviation of the scene.
"Are you okay?" He held her at arm's length for inspection. She nodded and dug her face into his chest.
"What in the hell happened?!!" Drake backed his daughter away from the body and looked wildly about. Herb, Honker, and Tank were all three standing around Binkie's body. Well, Honker was huddled under the kitchen table, where Gosalyn had also taken refuge. Tank merely stood, a stature as tall and almost as wide as his father's, and only sixteen years old. Herb stood unsteadily beside him, holding a gun limply in his hand and teetering on his own two feet. He was marinated in blood and tears were streaking down his face.
"Drake!! I-I don't know!" He wailed as he flung the gun around as if it were a toy. Drake jerked Gosalyn out of the sleek barrel's sight and motioned for Morgana to take the trembling redhead. At first she refused to lessen the iron grip she had around her father, but he coaxed her gently and in hearing Herb's deafining screams erupting from his tear-streaked face, assented and went to her. Morgana held her protectively and backed away.
"Now, Herb." Drake began, slowly advancing on him. "How about you give your buddy Drake the gun?"
Morgana's breath caught in her throat as she watched him advance on the blubbering murderer. She tightened her grip around Gosalyn and backed herself up to the wall of the kitchen, knocking a 'St. Canard Living' calender off the wall. Gosalyn merely whimpered, rendered helpless.
Drake stretched out an arm towards the massive duck, but Herb did not move.
"You're my buddy, right? Drakester? You believe I didn't do this...to Binkie?" His voice went alist as the gun quivered by his head. Drake calmly inched to him, arms out in preparation. He was bare-chested, which Morgana felt was an enticing target. She broke into a cold sweat as Drake got no more than a foot from Herb, his daughter's shaking intensified.
"Of course you didn't..." He patronized the inconsolible duck as he slowly reached for the gun.
"But...I think I ought to take this." He whispered, as if talking to an illiterate. Herb's arms fell to his side as he watched Drake slowly pull the gun from his grip. Once the gun was out of his reach, Drake dislodged the cartrage and sat the empty gun on the counter, taking note not to touch the handle or anywhere except the flat bottom and sides of the barrel.
Drake asked Morgana in a tone as calm as she was frazzled if she'd go back to the house with Gosalyn, call the police, and remain there. She did so obediently, running across the yards in the washing glow of the streetlamp and running so fast she almost tripped and fell.

Drake knelt down beside Binkie and felt her pulse on her wrist. His forebodings told him not to go anywhere near her neck, for the tissue was severed and blood lay in a deep pool around her body. Severe bruising indicated possible strangulation, as well as her pale, bluish complexion.
For a moment, Drake swore he saw her eyes move. The glassy, aimless eyes seemed to beam with life and look at him. Her mouth-caked in blood-twitched and moved, almost whispering something. Dazed, he shook himself only to see that she was oncemore stoic. Her lifeless eyes looked idily upward, perhaps at the heaven meant for innocent, loving wives like her who had fulfilled their merciless destinations: dead and bleeding on the pearly linoleum floors she mopped daily.

The police showed up no more than a moment later, scanning the scene and demanding questions. Drake explained his reason for being present-that his daughter had been over when the screams took place. As he directed an officer as to what had happened, he noticed several officers taking Herb and trying to immobilize him. He seemed ecstatic, wailing as he screamed for Binkie, begging her to come back. Tears fled from his eyes as the cops pulled him away and out the door. The officer consulting Drake also paused, on the verge of assisting them in taking out the big fellow. A lady officer escorted Tank out, who walked casually with a look of indifference washed over his face. Drake frowned at him as he walked by, but was distracted when another female officer tried to coax Honker out from under the kitchen table. Her efforts were in vain, for the poor boy would merely howl and scoot away from her grasp. Drake interrupted her attempts and told her he'd take care of Honker until further notice. The police gave consent, but felt it necessary to have the children in for questioning as soon as possible.
The body was taken out on a gernie, the blood still oozing from her neck matting the white sheet against her face. Drake knew instinctively that investigationing would begin at dawn, in which time Darkwing would be present. He would get to the bottom of this, and fast.

Once the kitchen was empty and the police tape was barricating the lawn, Drake walked over to the kitchen table and knelt down. "How are you, Honkman?" He asked amiably, realizing how ridiculous of a question it was. Honker didn't respond, but sat there, his legs wrapped into his arms. Drake knelt lower to see him better, amazed at a boy his height being able to curl himself in such a tight ball.
"Hey champ, how about you come with me? You can stay at my house with Gos." He knew he was underestimating Honker, cooing to him like a small child. The boy had an I.Q. of a genius, yet sadly the limitations of a defenseless thirteen year-old.
Honker sat there for a long time, a mixture of indecisiveness and sheer misery plastered on his paled face. Yet when Drake extended his hand, Honker accepted. Drake pulled the boy out, putting an arm supportively around his waist and leading him out of the house as quickly as possible.
Walking out of the house, what police were there broke into applause in the success of resurrecting Honker from under the table. He knew the boy hated to be the center of attention, and it must be ten times worse under such atrocities.

The dimmed face looking at him was the only thing that made him look. Honker had kept his eyes shut and his face pressed against Drake's shoulder, yet when that feeling of being watched came over him, he was forced to look. Tank was staring him down from his place in the police car. When their eyes met, Tank gave him the most disturbing smile, followed by running his index finger across his neck homicidally. Silenced by fear, Honker held onto Drake even tighter.

**********************

Drake, now donning the illustrious Darkwing garb, drove Morgana up to her looming 18th century castle, pulling up close to the curb and cutting the motor of the Ratcatcher. Sighing, he received a kiss as she climbed out of the passenger's car.
"Dark?" She asked in a concerned voice as she saw him gaze off into the twilight.
"Hmm? Oh, sorry..what?"
"Are you going to be alright? Do you want me to stay with you until..."
Darkwing stopped her in mid-sentence as he hopped deftly from his bike and took her hand. "No, Morg. It's not necessary. You helped me get the kids to sleep. I can take it from here."
"Okay." She sounded a little dismayed that he didn't need her. "Dark, what are you going to do?"
Darkwing looked out towards the horizon and sighed deeply. "Go to work. The cops will be there in a couple of hours. I have to help solve this murder."
Morgana nodded, the air between them held thick with revelation.
"I, uh..I really don't think you want to answer this now, but I..uh-"
Darkwing smiled wearily. "-you want to know if I think Herb killed her."
She nodded, her eyes fixated on him.
He shrugged, torn between what his heart felt and what his mind screamed. He could wade into the conversation deep enough that he and Morgana could be out on that lonely sidewalk all day, but instead, he cut the fine print and shrugged. "Only one way to find out."
Walking her up to her door and kissing her tenderly, he bid farewell to his enigmatic lover. She returned passionately, and gave him an earnest caveat. "Dark, be careful. Please."
Her eyes held urgency in their crystallic green hue as he smiled at her and replied, "I will. Trust me, I will."

Darkwing Duck, Morgana McCawber, Muddlefoots, and all other Disney cartoon characters I used are copyright by Disney and used without permission but for entertainment purposes only. NOT for profit. I've been working on this fic off and on for quite awhile. Please read and respond! Thanks! Copyright gosalyngirl.