Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!

Title: West Coast

Summary: To Webby, Lena can do most anything. Anything except grow up, that is.

Flintheart Glomgold is a ridiculously petty man, and it's in his nature to try to rub Scrooge's beak in things, so it comes as no real surprise when a flimsy yellow invitation appears in the mailbox for his birthday party. Likewise, if it weren't for the very large No Free Food typed underneath, Scrooge probably would've gone, just to goad him.

The Duck children needed no such pretense, however. At fourteen, they all carried themselves differently than they had as kids. Huey had traded out his shirts for red flannel and his JWB for a thick leather notebook to write about new discoveries (though the guidebook was kept very carefully tucked away and cared for). He was the tallest of the trio, as well as the most muscular. Dewey, in typical Dewey fashion, had a cracked beak from falling out an airplane on his thirteenth birthday, and had shaved the side of his head, letting the feathers on the other side grow out long. And then there was Louie, still as scrawny as ever, still in his green hoodie, but with the added bonus of his first doubloon hanging from a string around his neck. His side-whiskers were longer and fluffier than ever as he discussed business with various people around the ballroom, as if daring someone to comment on his relation to Scrooge. Webby had grown marginally taller but had overall stayed fairly compact, though her muscles had become more pronounced as time went on, wearing a deep purple blouse and three griffin claw scars on her cheek.

And Lena... well, Lena wore Scrooge's old bowler hat and a vest.

Though she was technically a resident of McDuck manor, Lena wasn't here as a partygoer. Flintheart wanted most anything Scrooge had, and if he had an illusionist on his birthday, so would he. And if Lena charged double for the trouble, then so be it. That didn't stop her from wandering the room and just generally irritating the rich people of Duckburg with her lackluster style and manners.

Webby did a full circle of the ballroom and came back around in time to watch Lena and Dewey have a drink-off with the fountain of cider. In her blouse alone there was throwing stars, a couple of daggers, and one decently-sized mace. Just in case things got tricky, of course. You wouldn't be able to tell from looking at her, though, her short feathers clipped to the side so they were out of her face, eyes sparkling and bright and really, really pretty.

Lena lost from that thought alone, choking on her drink. She grimly wiped her beak and sat up. "How's the evening been to you, Anglibeth?"

"Oh, just lovely, dear Brittania," Webby replied, voice full of snobbery. A few nearby patrons turned to glare at her as she went on. "Haven't been this bored since I got locked in that safe at the bottom of the Atlantic."

"Not all parties are created equal," Huey said without looking up from his notebook. "I'm pretty sure the band has been playing the same song over and over again with some It's Not Unusuals inbetween. Whup, there it is again."

A light and jingling tune met their ears. It reminded Lena of the music heard most often in malls around Christmas time. Louie, who had passed by long enough to get himself a proper cup of cider, groaned just loud enough to be heard before vanishing again. Lena had to admire his work ethic.

Webby held out her hand. "Care to dance?"

"Only if you don't mind my vest being sticky."

"Lena, I'd be more surprised if your vest wasn't sticky by now."

She had a point.

Lena allowed herself to be escorted out onto the dance floor, looking around to meet any judgmental eyes with an evil grin. And, really, it's not her fault if the white bread majority in this town expected the Duck-McDuck clan to be even slightly behaved at their rival's party.

Webby pressed close to her chest with a wet squelch. Lena set a hand on her waist and took the lead, twirling them without any real direction. The smaller duck was tall enough to meet her eye, but not tall enough to avoid a quick noogie. Webby stuck her tongue out at her; then, getting a wicked look in her eyes, bent down to scoop Lena up like she weighed nothing, balancing her on her forearms.

Lena whooped and blew some kisses, which transformed into flaming butterflies halfway through. She hoped they caught Glomgold's beard on fire. "I'm on top of the world!"

"Ahem!" an obnoxiously Scottish voice snarled behind them. Flintheart leaned heavily on his cane, glowering, as Lena was set to the ground. "What're yew doin'?"

"What does it look like we're doing?" Lena replied. "We're crashing your party, man."

"Only I can crash my parties!"

Webby rolled her eyes and did a little bow. "Whoopsie. Guess we didn't get the memo."

He crossed his arms. "Gimme one reason why I shouldnae call the cops."

Lena did a gesture with her hand, pulling a rose from thin air. "I brought you a gift?"

"A puny flower?" He stared at it, gobsmacked. "How am I supposed ta' destroy me enemies with that?"

"More of a weapons man, I take it? That's cool." She flipped the flower around, cupping the bulb in her hands. A quick shot of warm air into them and she was holding out a dagger encrusted with rose designs. "Would you like some fire with that?"

That managed to made Flintheart crack a grin. "I'm Flintheart Glomgold! When don't I want fire with somethin'?"

"I'd assume with your sharks," Webby chipped in.

"I had some nerds create lava sharks fer that very reason!"

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."

Lena was far from a stupendous with magic. She would never claim to be half as good as, say, Magica. But there were two things she did well; making things appear, and fire. The first was more of a parlor trick than actual magic, and even the weakest demon could manage to set something on fire, let alone a shadow golem. So when she snapped her fingers and blue flames burst out, setting the blade of the dagger on fire, she really didn't foresee trouble coming out of it.

Not until Glomgold got his grubby hands on it, anyway.

He took the cool handle with a wicked grin, making some experimental jabs at patrons nearby. "Ahhh, where's Scroogey when ye need him?"

"At this hour? Probably sleeping."

"Pathetic old coot," he grunted. "Too old to stay up past his bedtime, eh? Meanwhile, I have all my wits about me!" He did a wide ark with the blade- then, in typical Glomgold fashion, he let go. "Uh-oh."

In the back, Dewey said, "That can't be good."

The blade crashed through one of the many large windows in the room, catching the curtains ablaze while it was at it. The blue fire ate the fabric like it hadn't eaten in days, curling up on the metal rod holding them up.

Flintheart turned to glare at Lena. "I blame yew entirely fer this."

"Relax, man. It's safe fire." She grabbed one of the curtains as proof of this. "It can't hurt people."

"That's lame!"

"It's a very difficult magic, thank you very much. It requires a lot of concentration. One little slip-up and-" the blue first exploded outwards in a wave, snatching tablecloths and other curtains along the way. Lena recoiled, wiping at her eyes. "Fuck!"

"Lena!" Webby cried, grabbing her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Just peachy," she grunted. "I feel like I got sand to the face."

Louie came up next to them, hefting Lena to her feet. "We should probably get out of here. Y'know, before we have to foot the bill."

"Good point." Webby grabbed Lena's free hand and broke into a sprint. "Come on!"

Huey and Dewey caught on pretty quickly. The former Duck triplet snatched a water bottle from the back room as they slipped through the halls and into the elevators, displeased guards close behind. Lena leaned on the elevator rail and twisted the cap open, tilting her head back to pour the liquid over her face.

"Better?" she asked, hopeful.

Lena nodded, running her fingers through her thoroughly soaked hair. "I think Glomgold's gonna withdraw his cash." She plucked a marble out of her vest pocket. It glowed bright blue. "That's okay, though. I got this little beauty."

"Dude," Dewey said, jaw slack. "What happened to your eyes?"

Lena squinted at him. "Whattaya mean?"

Louie pulled up his camera app, turning it on her. She froze, staring at herself with horror.

Her eyes were gold.

Author's Note: This was originally going to go further into the 'fic, but I feel like this was a good ending for the first part. This is gonna be 3-4 chapters I think.

-Mandaree1