Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!

Title: Morning After

Summary: Scrooge and Goldie try to have a peaceful cup of joe. That's not so easy when there's a herd of children in the house.

...

Goldie wakes to a broom to the face, Beakley growling a multitude of curse words at her. Not one for shame, Goldie sits up, naked as the day she was hatched, and wiped the spot of dust off her face. "You could've gotten a clean broom, at the very least."

"Beakley," Scrooge grunts without opening his eyes. He rolls slightly to grab Goldie's wrist, halfheartedly trying to tug her back under the covers. "Let's not give the lady more reason ta' rob us blind."

"Oh, Scroogey, don't give me any ideas."

Beakley sniffs and sets the broom to the floor where it belongs. "I'm not making her breakfast."

Goldie laughs, light and tinkling. Her eyes are half-lidded with sleep and irritation. "Oh, Beakley, honey. You make it sound like I want your food. I mean, no offense, but you really can't beat Duckworth's crepes."

That little prod gets the housekeeper to leave, scoffing to herself. Beakley slams the door a bit harder than is absolutely necessary, rousing Scrooge from his pillow. He sits up with a sour frown, bags under his eyes. The sight makes Goldie snort.

"Not as young as we used to be, eh, Scrooge?"

"I think ye threw me back outta whack."

Goldie chucks one of his bathrobes as him, digging through the clothes laying on the floor for a hair tie. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Scrooge pulls the robe on and secures it to his waist, stretching. For once, his precious tophat doesn't seem to be as much a priority to him, instead hobbling over to grab his cane. Goldie doesn't miss how he shifts his weight on it- as much as the dingbat liked to pretend it was all for show, there was definitely something in his knees or back that made it necessary. Goldie grabs an old pair of sweatpants from his drawers and her shirt from last night. She looks like a hot mess. The best kind of mess.

They walk in comfortable silence to the nearest bathroom, where two toothbrushes wait; one used, one still in the package. Goldie washes her face before opening it. The new bristles hurt her gums.

Scrooge spits into the sink. "So. Are ye gonna stay fer breakfast?"

"Food? No. Coffee? Yes."

Both of them are too stubborn to put anything in their coffee, drinking it black. Personally, Goldie liked a little cream with hers, but there's an unspoken challenge in Scrooge's eyes as he hands her a mug. A sort of 'who's actually the softy here?' and she'll be darned if she'll let him beat her over a drink.

Scrooge sits at the table while Goldie leans on the counter, ready to grab a second mug when the first ran dry. He opens the newspaper to the crossword section and sets on doing it with a pen. Rookie move.

"What's a four letter word fer-"

"Gold."

"It's not a money word."

"Gold," she repeats, taking a sip to hide her smirk.

"Attack!"

Goldie ducks in time for the fork to hit the wall behind her, looking amused in spite of herself. "Can't even wait 'till after breakfast to set your goons on me, Scroogey?"

A long sigh from behind the newspaper. "Webbigail, stop throwin' things at Goldie."

Webby appears from behind the entryway into the kitchen, hanging onto... something. Goldie isn't sure what. "Oh. Sorry, Mr. McDuck. Granny said there was an intruder, so-"

"She makes it sound like I broke in," Goldie comments, eyebrow raised. "The back door was unlocked, thank you very much."

Whatever grasp she might have had on the situation is shattered by three loud voices going "oooooooh" in harmony. Goldie clutches the handle of her mug a bit tighter than needed as the triplets stroll into the kitchen wearing matching PJs.

Louie's eyes were practically glowing with glee as he rubbed his hands together. "And to think we just came in here for cereal."

"Prime teasing here we come!" Dewey cries with a smile from ear to ear.

"Hello, boys," Goldie says with what she hopes is an even tone. Children have never been her strong suit. "Scrooge and I had a nice little sleepover last night."

Huey crosses his arms, fixing her a deadpan look. "You do realize we're children from a generation with internet access, right?"

"Yeah," Dewey adds, grabbing a handful of frosted flakes and shoving them into his maw. "Uncle Donald can't come up with parent safety passwords to save his tail."

"Alright then." Goldie finishes up her cup, smacking her lips. "We were up most of the night and are both particularly crabby."

"Goldie," Scrooge scolds, turning the page. She got the feeling he was doing it to avoid showing off a blush. "Don't ruin what little is left of their innocence."

She snorts, studies the mug for a second, and ultimately decides her best comeback is to chuck it at his head. Scrooge ducks, glass shatters, the kids ooh and ahh.

"O'Gilt," Scrooge rumbles, staring up at the ceiling. "Donnae make me call the cops this early in the morning."

"Is this what love is?" Huey asks rhetorically. "It's kind of scary."

"It's Uncle Scrooge," Louie laughs, milk jug in hand. "Did you expect anything less?"

Author's Note: It's basically rule of thumb that any adventure couple I see will inevitably end up being written domestically by me. Also, I'm still testing the waters on my Goldie writing. So far, I've been decently satisfied, but I've only got one episode to work on of her, so

-Mandaree1