Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!

Title: Counting Cards

Summary: Goldie and Scrooge have known each other a long time now, and that's given them a special kind of closeness. Goldie can't say the same for the children he's dragging around with him now, but if she wants to continue the way they have she's going to have to learn. Too bad Goldie's never been good at being good.

...

Goldie's always had a knack with telling time. She arrived at two o'clock precisely, to absolutely no applause. The boys were off at school- and, as she would find out later, Webby was off spying on the school from a safe distance- and far be it from Scrooge to walk to his own damn door. She didn't even get a rude greeting from Beakley, though that might draw back to her sneaking in via a conspicuously unlocked back door.

(That wasn't to imply Bentina wasn't aware of her, of course. She might be retired, but she was as sharp as ever. Just that Scrooge had asked her to let her be for now.)

(Shouldn't an old fuddy-duddy like Scrooge be at work at this time of day? Did he cut out early? Just to spend time with her?)

She headed for the nearest bathroom, which stands slightly ajar; hanging on a hook is one of Scrooge's robes, washed and pressed to perfection. Goldie can't resist a smile as she twisted the hot water knob.

The man of the hour is at his big and fancy table when Goldie finally decides to look for him, searching through piles of paperwork for Gods-knew-what. He pretended not to be affected when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, leaning in to read what was in his hand, but heat radiates from his face. Even at his age, he acts like a teen when a decently pretty girl appears. She finds it hilarious. "Hey. Thanks for the robe."

"Yer paying fer the dry-cleaning," he replied promptly.

Goldie rolled her eyes. "I figured. Don't I at least get a hello hug? Or are your joints too rusty to lift your wings?"

"I already gave ya' a robe! Hot water! Precious money goin' down the drain fer that mop yew call hair. Ain't that enough?"

"You can say you don't want to."

Scrooge sighed. He pulled his carcass away from his chair ever so slowly, like every shift and shuffle was agony, and lightly patted her shoulders. Goldie yanked him in for an actual hug, snorting at the squeak he made.

"You know, in some worlds this could be considered a pass," he said.

"We're married in some worlds," she said. "Did you ever tell those rugrats that?"

"I am not tellin' them about the Demogorgana drive-by wedding."

"Oh, it wasn't a drive-by, technically. I mean, the city was on fire, but we still did the rights." Goldie shrugged. "And you know what the real pass here is? You're still hugging me three lines of dialogue later."

Scrooge pulled away just as abruptly as he'd been pulled into it, scowling up a storm. "Alright, ground rules."

"I just got here," she protested.

"Yer not to steal anythin'. I'll have all my items cataloged before yew go to make sure of it."

Goldie snorted.

"Lena is livin' here now-"

"Is this the shadow creature I've heard about?"

"Aye," he admitted. "Don't bring that up to her. She tends ta' hover 'round Webbigail- I've seen the work she does to the people who hurt her." Scrooge cleared his throat. "And speakin' of Webby."

"It was one text! Give me a break."

He raised an eyebrow. "I know ye've never been the maternal type-"

"Like you're the most paternal man yourself."

"But she likes you. I dunno why, but she does. So don't mess that up, ye hear?" Scrooge poked her square in the stomach. Goldie ignored the age-old tingle of being tickled. "I know full well that yer gonna find a way to screw me over 'fore this ends. But not Webby. You treat her right."

Goldie blinked at him, surprised. "You really have gone soft, haven't you?"

Scrooge looked like he'd been slapped. He turned away. "Aye. Maybe I have."

Author's Note: Short, I know, but I felt like writing some Scroldie interaction.

-Mandaree1