(AN: Well, apparently, I just can't stop writing about Magica de Spell. Don't worry, I'll probably be working on "The Sincere Fraud" soon—whenever my busted laptop gets back from the shop, I'd like to work on that piece some more. But that story has a distinct lack of Magica in it, and… I like Magica. A lot. She's probably one of my favorite female characters of all time.

This story is a little more sensual than my other DuckTales stuff. This story is my official fanfiction coming-out announcement that I like the Scrooge/Magica pairing. (Ay carumba!) I've been flamed for writing odd pairings in the past, but that was in the Powerpuff Girls section, and all of you here are much more mature than the majority of the PPG fans, so this probably goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: if you don't like the idea, then you don't have to read it. It doesn't offend me at all, believe me. :)

Also, I can't recall if Magica ever used foof bombs in the show, but they definitely worked the best for diversionary purposes. Basically, the Magica in this story is kind of a combination of the cartoon Magica and the comic Magica. Work with me, peeps.

This story is a stand-alone one-shot, but if I ever finish my Darkwing Duck stories that might tie into some DuckTales ideas I also have planned, I might write a multi-chaptered continuation of this piece. This is, of course, assuming that I finish all the DWD stuff first, and seeing as it took me a week to write this simple one-shot… well, that might not happen for awhile. But the possibility is there—and clanging around my brain so much, that I'll probably at least write an outline for the story, for my own sanity.

But in the meantime, there's this. And "The Sincere Fraud".

Disclaimer: DuckTales and all related characters belong to Disney. (insert obligatory "If I owned DuckTales this pairing would be totally canon" line here)

Hope you enjoy!)

O.o.O

"COME BACK WITH THAT DIME, YOU WITCH!"

Magica de Spell tore around the corner so fast, it was a wonder that she didn't completely lose her balance. "Fat chance, darling!" she yelled, turning her head back behind her to better address Scrooge McDuck, who was running after her with dogged determination and rage. "You think I will give back so quickly what I have tried to obtain for so long just because you tell me?"

"You thieving snake!" Scrooge shouted out, his strides long and fast.

He runs fast for an old bird, Magica noted. While still running, she reached into her purse and pulled out what looked like a small green egg. "This should slow you down!" she said, throwing it behind her, directly in Scrooge's path.

FOOF!

She cackled, not bothering to look behind her to watch Scrooge stumble in the confusion of her foof bomb, and continued tearing down the sidewalk… Scrooge's Number One Dime held firmly in her hand.

How she had finally obtained it, even she wasn't too sure. A mixture of good timing and dumb luck, really. She had simply been discreetly examining the money bin that day when the Beagle Boys had run out, fistfuls of money in their hands. Not surprisingly, Scrooge in rage mode was right behind them, ranting and raving and cursing… and as is often the case in situations like this, Scrooge had far too many things on his mind—some several millions of dollars, from the look of it—to remember to close the door behind him.

Thanks to the Beagle Boys, Magica was able to walk right in.

To her chagrin, it took her awhile to find it… so that by the time she was finally able to run out with the dime in hand, Scrooge had returned to the money bin with his money in his hands and a triumphant smirk on his face… that is, until he saw a rather startled Magica bolt out of the bin, his precious first dime in her hands. In a flash—although he took the time to throw his money back through the doors to the bin and actually shut said doors this time—he was after her.

And now, thanks to that foof bomb of hers, Magica was quickly widening the gap. Cackling madly, she managed to pull out her amulet from her purse while still running. She had to have some form of defense against Scrooge once he got past the foof bomb, and fitting the dime in the amulet would have to do for now. Of course, she wouldn't obtain its full power until she melted it in Vesuvius, but the unmelted dime should be sufficient for keeping Scrooge at bay before she was able to get back home.

Being careful to not drop her treasure, she clicked the dime into the amulet while still running as fast as she could in her heels. Her foof bombs, while handy for making quick getaways or causing temporary confusion, were only good for slowing her enemies down by a few seconds… and Scrooge would not let her continue to widen the gap of space between the two.

"Come back here, you bitch!" Scrooge shouted, plowing his way through the dispersing smoke of the bomb. Magica chuckled. Yes, there was no mistaking that he had definitely replaced the W with a B in that particular descriptive noun.

But she could chuckle about that later, when she was safely back at home and fixing herself a tasty flambéed dime.

"Never!" Magica cried, pointing the amulet with dime fastened in right at Scrooge. "Conturbo hexus!"

Scrooge winced, and Magica gleamed… but only for a second.

"Was something supposed tae happen?" Scrooge asked.

Magica spluttered in confusion. He was supposed to fall down in a drooling, blubbering heap! Enraged, she aimed the amulet at him again. "Paralysus doleo!"

Again, nothing. Not even a spark shot out of the amulet.

"You stubborn piece of metal!" Magica shrieked at the amulet—or, more likely, the coin inside. "Why don't you work?!"

Scrooge was probably as perplexed as Magica was over the whole situation, but he wasn't going to waste time just watching her scream at her unresponsive magic amulet. He lunged for her—or rather, his dime—and Magica's attentions were forced away from the apparently defective amulet to her aggressor.

Despite her angry befuddlement, Magica still wasted no time. She kicked Scrooge twice, right below the knees, and then in the gut.

Scrooge might have been tough for any age, much less his own advanced one, but Magica's well-aimed blows were enough to knock him over to his knees. Magica flung another foof bomb at him before running off again, although her feet not moving as fast as her mind.

Why didn't it work?

She had examined the dime before she had taken it—it was most certainly Scrooge's Number One—she had been close enough to it enough times to have memorized every miniscule little knick and scratch on the blasted thing. It wasn't a phony—this was the real thing! Then why…

She pulled the dime out of the amulet and peered at it again. This was it—this was Scrooge's first dime! It should work!

She could hear Scrooge's footsteps behind her—curses, he didn't stay down for long!—and thinking fast, she shoved the dime down the front of her dress, spun around, and flung the now empty amulet at Scrooge's head.

"OUCH!"

"Take it, you lout!" And she began running again.

"It's not in here!"

Drat! Why did he have to open it before she made her escape?

She began to run faster, but Scrooge was prepared to give her a taste of her own medicine and return her amulet to her at the same time.

BONK!

"Ow!" screamed Magica, hunching over in pain. Scrooge had aimed not at her head, but at her stomach, and the sharp points of her amulet had seemed to pierce through her skin. She stopped only for an instant to clutch her belly, but it was more than enough time for Scrooge to tackle her.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!" Magica shrieked in rage, but it was for naught. Scrooge had her firmly pinned to the ground, and wasn't about to let her leave with what was his.

"Where's my dime?!"

Magica flung her leg up, kicking him. Scrooge winced, but didn't loosen his grip on Magica's shoulders.

"Give it back, Magica! It doesnae work! You have no use for it!"

"Why do you care? Is just a worthless dime! Why do you want it so badly?"

"Why do you want it so badly?"

Magica scowled at Scrooge, but said nothing. It… it was a good question. Why did she want it so badly, knowing now that it didn't work? Knowing now that she had spent all these past years chasing after something that turned out to be worthless for her?

Maybe… maybe that was it. Maybe she wanted something to show for all those years of trying, even if that blasted dime hadn't worked the way she thought it would. Her whole reason for existing had been tied around that stupid coin, and she wasn't just going to hand it back to its original owner—who had more coins than stars in the sky, what was the big deal for him losing this one? So what if it was his first? Obviously, it had no more worth than any other coin he owned!

Scrooge's hands gripped Magica even tighter. "Where is it?"

Magica hesitated, for although Scrooge's grip was painful, it was also making her skin tingle with something other than pain.

"As if I would tell you!" she spat out after a brief pause. "If you want dime, you'll have to find it yourself!"

'I don't have time for this!" cried Scrooge, quickly standing up and pulling Magica up with him. But before she could tear away, he suddenly rammed her against a nearby wall. Magica winced.

"Just give it up, Magica," said Scrooge, still with firmness but now slightly more composed than before. "You have no use for it. It's worthless tae you!"

"Dime was worthless to you as well when you first earned it!" Magica cried. "This American coin was worthless in Scotland! And yet you still have it and chase me down for it! Why do you want so badly to keep dime when is worthless to you?"

"It's not worthless tae me! My whole fortune was built on that coin!"

"But whole fortune would not tumble if I took one little coin!" Magica cried, growing desperate. "This dime is my life! My whole reason for living! Is just your starting place, but is my beginning, middle, and end!"

"Only because you made it that way!"

His grip on her wrists had loosened a little, and she turned her head away from him, not wanting to look him in the eye.

"Where is it?" he finally asked again.

She turned back to look at him, her eyes narrow with anger. "Like I said, if you are wanting it so badly, find it yourself!"

"Fine," growled Scrooge. "If you cannae be reasonable, then I have no choice…" He looked down at her purse, which had long since been dropped to the ground in their scuffle, and bit his lip in concentration.

"I will not run away without my purse, you goon," Magica hissed.

"I'm not taking any chances," muttered Scrooge, pressing his body against her and stretching out his leg to push the purse towards him with his foot.

Magica drew in her breath sharply, but not from pain.

This is ridiculous! she silently berated herself, as Scrooge seemed to take no notice of her reaction to his close proximity and was digging through her purse frantically. How could my body be having this reaction to my enemy, who I have long despised? She felt disgusted with herself, a disgust that was now in full-fledged battle with her madly thumping heart and the shivers running through her limbs, ironically due to the warmth of Scrooge's body pressed against hers… and still Scrooge paid her no attention, still making a mess of her purse…

Wait!

"Stop that!" screamed Magica, flinging her arm up to stop Scrooge. His digging through her purse were done with the typical lack of care a man would give to a woman's accessory, and while Magica had been fighting her libido, Scrooge had tossed out half the contents of the purse haphazardly, leaving Magica's possessions scattered on the ground like trash.

"What have you done with my belongings?" she shrieked.

"What have you done with mine?" cried Scrooge, throwing the purse down with the rest of its contents and grabbing Magica harshly by the wrists again. "My dime wasnae in there! What have you done with it?"

Magica wanted to snap back with a witty retort, but all she could do was gulp with large, almost frightened eyes.

Scrooge's expression slowly softened, into not affection or even a mixture of shock and fear to match Magica's… but confusion. Honest, still slightly angered confusion. And Magica recognized what was happening to him, because it had just happened to her.

Scrooge McDuck is attracted to me!

Oh God, no, that was lunacy! Remember, Magica? You're enemies. You hate each other.

…but you don't have to like someone to be attracted to them.

Magica was not as young as she used to be, but she had a body that men took notice of. Scrooge never had, and Magica had never thought to use her looks against Scrooge. Even if the thought had ever crossed her mind, logic would have dictated that since Scrooge hated her so much, he would know right away what she was up to if she struck a seductive pose.

He would know… but apparently, his desires still got in the way of common sense. In this fleeting moment, she had a definite advantage over him as he continued to stare at her in confusion.

And so Magica, not Scrooge, broke the brief, yet still longer than expected, gaze fest between two enemies by slowly, carefully, raising her leg… and slamming the heel of her shoe on his foot.

Scrooge yelped in pain, but to Magica's relief—no, disappointment, disappointment!—he still held on to her wrists, keeping her pinned to the wall. It wasn't enough to make him drop his hold on Magica, but it was enough to shake him out of his confusion and get back to the matter at hand. "You have my dime on your body somewhere, don't you?"

"You wouldn't dare," Magica growled, her body tensing not from anger but from the sudden spark of passion that shot through her veins, and her id silently begging Scrooge, Yes, yes, please DO dare!

His right hand slowly let go of her left wrist, but he didn't pull away from her. Instead, he ran his hand down her arm, slowly, examining every square centimeter of cloth for a dime-shaped lump. Magica shuddered in pleasure, but winced in revulsion. No, no, don't give Scrooge your advantage!

She began to raise her foot again, but Scrooge was faster than her.

"No you don't!" he shouted, quickly slamming both his feet on top of hers. Magica growled in anger and struggled to get free, but Scrooge pressed her right hand even harder against the wall, his own right hand now running down her sides quickly and frantically. Magica moaned helplessly and arched her back—or at least as much as she could arch it in her given situation—without thinking.

"Stop doing this tae yourself, Magica," said Scrooge softly, his hand lingering on Magica's waist. "Just let it go."

"Never!" cried Magica, although to her dismay she sounded not angry, but desperate. "Is my life—my whole life!"

"But it doesnae work for you!"

"Is still my life!"

"That dime is not your life," said Scrooge, almost gently. "Just like it is not the source of my wealth. It represents all that I've done in my life; it's not the source of it. It's not the dime you want, Magica, it's wealth, and there are plenty of other ways of getting it than stealing my first dime—which doesnae even work as you thought it would, as we've found out."

Magica felt herself growing sick, the feeling one gets when a truth is said that they'd rather not hear. "But… but I need it!" she cried, still sounding more pleading than angry. "I want it!"

"That's still no excuse for stealing," said Scrooge.

Magica gulped painfully—painfully because her heart was pounding so hard it was rattling everything inside of her—painfully enough that she couldn't even open her mouth to speak.

Scrooge lifted his hand away from Magica's waist. He did not break his gaze from her, nor did she break her gaze from his, as his hand hesitated for a thoughtful moment.

But then—

He shot his hand down the front of her dress, and Magica let out a yelp of surprise… and defeat… and victory… for she had been hoping, hoping against hope that he wouldn't do that, that he wouldn't find his silly dime, and just let her go; and yet, his hand between her breasts was igniting her whole body in a way it had never been ignited before—

Scrooge pulled the dime from her cleavage. "Ingenious hiding place, Magica. You never cease tae amaze me."

Magica shrieked and flailed against Scrooge. "No! Give it back! Is mine!"

"No, is mine," said Scrooge, tucking his dime into an inside pocket.

"I'll get it!" screamed Magica. "I would not hesitate to strip you naked to get dime from you!"

Scrooge arched an eyebrow. "Yes, Magica… I can tell."

He let go of her wrist, and Magica let her hands drop uselessly to her sides. Scrooge turned away from her, prepared to return his dime safely to the money bin…

…but Magica wasn't about to let him escape that easily.

"Give it back!" Magica shrieked, grabbing Scrooge by the collar and forcing him back around to face her. Now she knew she was pleading, but she couldn't help herself—and besides, Scrooge might be moved by her pitiful lamentations. "Look at me, Scrooge, I need that dime! I know is worthless to bring me power—but I still need it! Is… is my entire reason for existing! You just keep dime in stupid little case and look at it every two months, but I—I've made it my life! Please don't take my life away from me! Is just ten cents to you, but to me—is everything!"

Scrooge just stared at her. "Wow, Magica… you're really something. And I don't mean that as a compliment," he quickly clarified.

"You'd be alright without your dime, but I won't!" Magica said, her pleading now burning back into rage—definitely the emotion she preferred to show. "Is just dime to you—"

"It's just a dime tae you, too," said Scrooge, reaching into a pocket and pulling something out. A dime. He flipped it out of his hands and right to Magica's feet. Confused, Magica reached over and picked it up.

"This… is not your Number One Dime!" Magica cried, her face growing red with rage.

"Of course not," said Scrooge. "But it's just as good as my Number One tae you. It'll have the exact same powers—or lack thereof—in that amulet of yours. Really, Magica, after what just happened tae you…" He smiled, rather sardonically. "I'd think you'd realize that sometimes, a dime is just a dime."

"Shut up!" snapped Magica, now shaking with fury.

"And now you never have tae bother me again," said Scrooge, grinning even broader. Magica's head jerked up in surprise, but Scrooge just chortled. "Ooh, I'm quite satisfied with how this all turned out!"

"Go away!" shrieked Magica. "You kick me when I'm down, now go! You've had your fun! I never want to see you again!"

"The feeling is mutual, Miss de Spell," growled Scrooge, glaring at her.

And then—had Magica blinked, she would have missed it—Scrooge's eyes grew softer, murkier, and his frown intensified into uncertainty… and for a fraction of a second, his gaze at her was tinged with confusion and…

He spun around and huffed his way back to his money bin.

…longing.

Magica's stomach churned, her body not able to decide if she was miserable, enraged, or…

She began scooping the strewn contents of her purse together, trying to make sense of the mess.

…captivated.

She picked up the amulet.

"It must be faulty," she murmured to herself. "If I had kept Scrooge's dime and melted it into Vesuvius, it would have worked. It was amulet's fault!"

A small tingle ran through her right palm, growing stronger by the moment. Magica stared at the amulet in her hands, the feathers on her neck raised in apprehension. She knew this tingle—it was the tingle of something with strong magical powers, one that ran through her body every time she held a magic wand. But the amulet was useless without something magical in it…

And then she remembered what else was in her palm—the dime Scrooge had given her.

"It… it couldn't be…" Magica murmured, examining the dime, the dime that most assuredly was not Scrooge's Number One Dime, the dime that was nothing more than an ordinary ten cent coin…

Fighting back both hope and bewilderment, she snapped the dime into the amulet.

And the amulet glowed, filled to the brim with powerful, barely-contained magic.