Disclaimer: Megavolt, Darkwing Duck and their long time associates do not belong to me. You'll find them buried in a back room somewhere at the Mickey Mouse Corporation gathering dust and depreciation.

Disclaimer: I know I don't write very well. I don't know what I can do to improve. I only know how to make it worse.

A/N: This chapter WAS LONGER, I have deleted the first skit, which does create an under weight to the overall ambience of the fic, but maybe it is better this way for the audience. What would I know? This is just an experiment in a void.

In cyberspace no one can hear you scream.

More importantly, unlike outer space, not even the Hubble is listening.

Prologue: Simply Electrifying

(...This Skit Has Been Deleted To Meet Imaginary Readership Standards...)

Red Herring Warehouse ...

Megavolt jolted awake. He jumped up and sprang five feet away from where he'd been lying. His heart was pounding. He turned around to view the familiar faces. They were the rest of the Fearsome Five. "What the ...?"

"Megavolt, what'd'ya see?" Quackerjack asked excitedly. It took a moment for Megavolt to even remember what in fact had happened.
"Morgana's dream potion?" He looked at the offending bottle and the empty shot glass beside it. He'd obliged the others and taken a small dose. But what he'd dreamt had nothing to do with their next planned heist.

What he'd dreamt had been his own death.

"It's not just any old dream potion." Liquidator chortled. "This one comes with a 90% guaranteed accuracy in predicting ..."
"Get away from me!" Megavolt snarled, not wanting to be reminded, and Liquidator was puddling far too close. He backed away from the water-based accident-waiting-to-happen. "Almost every time I'm in the room with you I get shorted out. And I wonder why my memory is so bad!" He accused his associate.

"Quit it, Sparky." Negaduck said calmly from his chair, his webbed feet up on the desk in front of him. He had the usual yellow glint in his eyes. "We know it worked. Tell us what you saw."
"Sparky!" The emotions threatened to burst out of Megavolt, heck, why not, he was a super villain anyway ... He flung a reasonably large bolt of energy at Negaduck, thoroughly crisping his yellow and red outfit into smoldering grey and black. Negaduck coughed.

"There, now you're almost a match for Darkwing Duck!" He yelled at Negaduck, not giving the evil duck a chance for him to be angry back. "You can go out and start impersonating him again!" He stormed several feet away towards the door.

"Megs?" He turned on Bushroot's hesitant voice.
"Don't you start; I'll grill you like eggplant. And you!" Megavolt pointed at Quackerjack, and hesitated. "I don't mind you so much, Quackerjack, but if that doll comes anywhere near me again, I'll turn him into banana fritters!"

He slammed the door behind him.

"Megavolt?" He whirled around and hurled a bolt of electricity now that he was in the habit. "Are you okay?"
"You, you ...vampire! You leave me alone too!" Megavolt turned away from the impervious Darkwing Duck who just stood there blinking at him, a look of concern on his face. "I wanna be alone." He muttered. "I've always been alone."
"Well, okay, then. I'll just be in here." Darkwing turned to the door of the Fearsome Five's short-term hideout and came at it with a flying kick. "I am the terror that flaps in the night!"

"That's the last time I'll let myself be someone's experiment." Then Megavolt sighed, getting emotional control back. "I'd better ..." Do what? He was useless against Darkwing Duck. He needed something...

"Got it!" He blinked as Darkwing appeared beside him again. In Darkwing's hands was the bottle that Liquidator had stolen from Morgana Macawber's collection. "She'll be glad to have this back." Darkwing glanced at Megavolt. "See you guys next time, and don't forget your sneakers!"

Meanwhile, Elsewhere On the Planet...

The wooden door slammed open on a lavishly decorated sitting room. Lush green plants from exotic places only added to the rich red cushions and the gold leafed decor. The wooden furniture was antique and well kept.

The duck at the desk ignored her fury as his Girl Friday stormed into the room. "I take it the fashion fair wasn't a success."
She slapped the packet of photos down on the table. "I quit. I'm sick of those brainless geese flocking around and trying to make something good out of some ... scrappy piece of fabric someone had the hide to call 'fashion'. If you don't give me a real job, David, I'm outta here."
"Now, Fell, be reasonable."
"Be reasonable? That's what you said last year. And the year before that!" She clenched her beak. "I'm so stupid, waiting around all these years for you, David. I quit." She turned away from him.

"Wait a minute here." He reached over the desk and grabbed her arm before she could step away from the desk. "I'm not finished with you, just yet." His eyes narrowed.

She looked down as his harsh fingers slowly released her. "Oh, is that how you feel about it?" She said, quietly. She turned around slowly, and then climbed up onto the desk. "Why didn't you tell me?" She grinned quietly at him; something insane flickered in her eyes.
"Well, I only just broke up with ..."
"Miss plastic beak." She said with sarcasm rife in her voice. Then she grabbed his collar and hauled him onto the table. She sat on top of him.

"In ... all the years I've known you, you've never done this before." He remarked as she inclined her head to him.
"And I won't have to again." She snapped her beak closed over his neck. Several moments later, she pulled away.
"You ..." She went digging into her purse. He grabbed her, but she pulled away in time.

She back flipped away as he struggled up. "Fell." He teetered unsteadily. "Felicia, I still won't let you go."
"Su-ure, okay. Not as if I'll take it to heart!" She raised her arm, and threw the stake at him. His body turned to dust.

Alone in the room, Felicia picked up the stake from the mound of dust and shoved it back in her purse again. "Like I said. I'm done sweetening these lemons." She closed the door quietly behind her. "I just want to be alone." She sighed honestly to herself. "No, not really."

But after so many years it was something she was comfortable with, at least.

Moral/Overview: Drinking something from a bottle rarely brings happiness.