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Chapter Text

"Magic," he said.

"Magic," she says. 

            She took Danny as far as the back door. She waited to see if he looked back, and grinned and gave him a little wave when he did. He was a good man. A great man. Valkyrie knew better than ever now that she could handle things on her own, but it was nice to have some help, especially from someone who didn’t have any real reason to.

            Valkyrie hoped he would get the record deal, she really did.

            She sucked in a big breath and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, straightened up, and walked toward the door. She could still make out his figure through the glass. Still standing there, still waiting for her.

            Her hand was trembling as she opened the door, and then there he was.

            He was wearing his three piece suit, the same he wore when he had met her parents. His façade was plain, but there was something different about it, something she couldn’t quite pin down.

            Her heart was pounding.

            “Hi,” she said.

            “Hi,” he replied, tilting his head towards her.

            A moment passed, and then another. It was a silence she wasn’t used to (but one you put there, her mind immediately reminded her. One you formed by leaving him.)

            “Trying to blend in?” she said, and then cringed at how forced the words sound.

            “Oh, right. Sorry,” he said, and then blinked and before his eyes opened again, the façade had melted away.

            “Wow,” Valkyrie said softly. “That’s new.”

            “Some basic upgrades,” he said. “Courtesy of a Grand Mage who apparently has nothing better to do.”

            Valkyrie snorted. “I’d imagine Ireland has become rather dull over the past few years.”

            “You could not even imagine,” he said gravely. “I was appointed to find someone’s cat the other day.”

            She raised an eybrow. “Where was it?”

            “He had been sitting on it.”

            A slow, shy smile broke across her face, and another silence fell, as uncomfortable as it was unwanted.

            His skull tilted down towards his feet, and then back towards her. “Valkyrie-”

            Her heart felt like it would burst from nerves when she heard paws hinting hardwood and she blinked hard, taking a moment to register Xena had jumped up on Skulduggery’s legs, barking loudly.

            “What,” the detective said, flatly, trying his hardest to push her down gently with one gloved hand, “is that.”

            Xena jumped up with renewed determination, now trying to reach his skull. Valkyrie laughed out loud. “She,” she corrected, “is my dog. Her name is Xena.”

            Skulduggery had given up, and allowed the dog to sniff at him curiously. “You replaced me with a dog?”

            “Oh, no,” Valkyrie said, seriously. “I replaced you with a goldfish. His name was also Skulduggery.”

            He tilted his head. Xena sneezed.

            “It died in a week,” Valkyrie added.

            “Oh, lovely.”

            Xena had given up on her attack, (or more likely, grown bored by an opponent who refused to play) and slipped between Valkyrie’s legs to run back into the kitchen. She stumbled, and felt bony hands grab her forearms lift her up and put her back on her feet.

            “You took your time,” he said, his hands lingering on her bare arms.

            “I’m sorry,” she blurted, feeling fresh hot shame. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was going to do, and then one year turned into two, and-”

            “I meant getting the door,” he said quickly, and she snapped her mouth shut.

            “Oh. Right. Danny – the one I mentioned on the phone, he wanted to leave out the back-“

            “He didn’t want to meet me?” Skulduggery replied, sounding vaguely offended, and her smile slowly made it’s way back to her face.

            “You are a lot to take in.”

            “I am certainly something to behold.”

            She rolled her eyes, still smiling, and then realized he was pulling her towards him, and the next thing she knew his arms were around her, and her face was pressed against his sternum.

            “I would have waited,” he said, softly. “However long it took.”

            She could only nod, breathing in the familiar scent of his freshly dry cleaned clothes, the sharp smell of his magic beneath them.

            “I’m so glad to see you,” he said, gently, and she could feel fresh tears welling up. Blinking hard, Valkyrie pulled back, and looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time in five years. For his part, he stayed still, skull expressionless as ever.

            “What’s this?” Valkyrie said, frowned, and the index finger of her right hand reached out and touched a small but deep scar that extended from one of his eye sockets.

            “Ah,” he said. “Well. Not all of the cases have been missing cats.”

            Another heavy stone of guilt fell into her stomach. “You’ll have to catch me up on the way back,” she said, forcing a light tone to her words, turning around to grab her bags. “How did you get here? Fletcher?”

            “Yes,” he said. “But I bought plane tickets, in case you wanted to…”

            “Yeah,” Valkyrie said. “That sounds … nice. I just want to ease myself back in, I guess.”

            “Understood,” he said, taking her bags from her and walking through the doorway, his façade back on.

            “Hold on,” she said, “let me get Xena in her kennel.”

            He stopped in his tracks. “It is not coming with us.”

            “She is. She’s trained not to grab bones, don’t worry.”

            He looked as indignant as a skeleton could, and she laughed again. “You’re going to love her, I promise. She’s the sweetest thing. And she saved my life more than once.”

            And in more than one way, she thought, and then whistled, and the German Shepherd trotted back into the hall. “C’mere,” she said, scratching her neck and leading her into the kennel. “Good girl.”

            Xena looked at her with her sweet eyes, head rested on her paws, and Valkyrie smiled softly, standing and brushing off her hands on the legs of her jeans. She turned, and Skulduggery was staring at her.

            Like a drowning man misses the land, she thought.

            He ducked his head, breaking their eye contact, and Valkyrie swallowed against the lump of her throat. She still felt so nervous. She hadn’t ever considered how difficult it could be, to abandon a life of isolation and silence and go back to him, and that closeness, to no secrets and being there for every moment.

            She knew they could do it. She knew that they had been through much worse – but she didn’t know how long it would take, and that was what scared her.

            When she could no longer bear the silence, she lifted Xena’s kennel. “Ready?”

            “Of course.”

            He opened the door for her and let her walk through, and she eyed his rental car as they put Xena and her bags in the back seat.

            Her lips pressed together. “It’s lime green.”

            “Was that a comment or complaint?”

            “I haven’t decided yet,” she said, warily.

            Her gaze returned to her house, quiet and crumbling, just as it had five years ago. She brushed a rebel tear from her eye and reminded herself she could always come back to visit Meek Ridge. It was never meant to be forever, and that this was all for the best. Skulduggery stood beside her, and she knew that he could tell exactly what she was thinking.

She felt his something on the small of her back and she jumped out of instinct, not used to having been touched.

            Skulduggery pulled his hand back like it had been burned, and walked towards the drivers seat before she even had time to react or apologize.

            A small noise escaped her throat, halfway between a swear and a sob, and she hoped, for all it was worth, that she was right, and this could be mended.

            And that she hadn’t ruined everything forever.

            It was a quiet car ride. That phone call the night before had been the first time she had heard his voice in over five years, just as velvety smooth as it had been on that cool June day. They hadn’t spoken much. She had given him her address – though she had a feeling he knew it already – and he had promised to be there in the morning.

            Valkyrie looked at him as he stared at the road. His current façade’s profile was noble, with a long nose and a serious brow, and she realized now that the skin was no longer waxy. There was a far more human quality to it, and she could even see a light peach fuzz on his cheeks.

            She had missed him. She had missed his voice, and his humor, and his warm arrogance.

            Mostly, she had missed him in those moments where she hated herself more than she felt she could possibly bear, when her skin burned and she screamed in her empty, empty house, screamed for the things she had done and the things she didn’t, and realized that he was the only person that made this burden able to bear, the only one who made that weight lift ever so slightly off her shoulders.

            Valkyrie sat with her knees up, arms around them, making herself as small as possible. She could hear Xena’s sleepy dog noises in the back seat, and she realized she was jealous of her dog for being able to avoid the most awkward car ride she had ever suffered through. He hadn’t mentioned the awkward touch from before, but it was all she could think about. But an apology seemed over the top, and would only make the matter more drawn out and more than it actually was.

            “So,” Skulduggery said casually, gloved hands lightly touching the wheel as he took the car through a sharp turn. “Why Colorado?”

            “No real reason,” Valkyrie answered, voice soft. “I was just wandering through and found the town. It was quiet, there was a vacancy … Danny introduced himself to me pretty early on, offered to bring my groceries. I settled into a routine pretty quickly. Sitting around, reading, playing with my dog. I’m actually still feeling sore from the fight last night,” she said, and winced, rolling out an ache in her shoulder. “I feel out of practice.”

            “Ah,” he said. “So then you won’t be able to help with our little dragon problem quite yet.”

            Valkyrie was silent for a moment. “What.”

            “I’m kidding,” he said, and chuckled, and she scowled.

            “I haven’t entered the caves since you … since the last time,” Skulduggery explained. “I thought it was only fair you’d be the first one to – what was it again?”

            “Get a harness and ride it,” Valkyrie answered immediately.

            His façade smiled, and after a moment, she smiled back.

            There was a beat before she broke eye contact and stared out the window in front of her.

            “Sorry I’ve been so quiet,” Valkyrie said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s … been a long time since I’ve actually talked to someone.”     

            His head tilted sympathetically. “I understand. Luckily, I talk enough for the both of us. You can listen to my brilliance and all you’ll have to do and smile and nod when appropriate.”

            “How generous of you,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

            “I am known for my generosity,” he said, nodding. “Where should I start? Tanith is doing well. She asks about you all the time. With you and Ghastly gone, and China and Fletcher busy, it’s just been the two of us. Which is funny, when you think about it, seeing as I don’t think we had more than a handful of conversations before the remnant took over, but, well. You’ve never met Aurora Jane, did you?”

            She shook her head.

            “She’s a nice girl,” Skulduggery said. “Has been helping Tanith get through it all. And China is doing well, as mentioned earlier. She … has picked up a few hobbies, some of which are probably not advisable for a grand mage, but she seems more content then I’ve seen her in dozens of years.”

            She watched the mountains go by as they drove past, aware it’d probably be many many years before she saw them again. “How’s Donegan?”

            Skulduggery paused before answering. “Haven’t seen him since you left.”

            “Is he – is he okay? After Gracious?”

            He hesitated for a moment, and then shook his head, and she felt the guilt trembling through, guilt for Darquesse’s actions and guilt for not being able to undo everything she had done.

            He didn’t mention any more of their friends after that. He talked about his cases, some of them as dangerous as the ones she was used to, but he spoke of them like they were distractions. There was no passion in his voice, just a detached coolness as he spoke with his usual wit and dramatics.

            It may have been selfish, but Valkyrie was glad to know that the past five years had been just as dull and meaningless for him.

            She didn’t know what she would have done if he had moved on.

            “You know,” she began, as they pulled into the Denver International Airport. “This is the biggest airport in the United States.”

            “Interesting,” he said. “Anything else I should know about this fine state before we leave?”

            “… Nope,” she said. “That’s about it.”

            After taking an obscene amount of time to find a parking space, and stopping to admire the bizarre blue demon horse statue outside, they walked through the airport, him again carrying her bags and her holding Xena. She had offered the dog to him, but Skulduggery just gave her a long skeptical look in turn.

            “You’re going to love her,” Valkyrie repeated, adjusting her hold on the kennel, and he scoffed.

            “Only if and when she stops drooling.”

            “I don’t think that’s actually possible.”

            “Nonsense,” he said, turning away from her. “After all, you did.”

            Valkyrie made an offended noise, which he gleefully ignored. But she knew he liked Xena better than he let on; when they were told by a rather nasal-voiced woman that she’d be kept in the luggage hold for the entirety of the 12+ hour flight, he crossed his arms and made her, in clear terms, explain exactly what that would entail and exactly why he, as a valued, important customer, was been treated this way. By the end, the woman was shaking and Xena had been promised the best possible treatment and care.

            Valkyrie had forgotten just how good he was at getting his way. It had been impressive when she was twelve, and was just as much so at twenty-three. (Twenty-three, she thought, with a little shake of her head. God, she was old.)

            She settled into her window seat, Skulduggery besides her and the aisle seat empty. They flew first class (of course) surrounded by a bunch of business men and women who looked miserable, which was generally a direct result of traveling so much that you could move up on first class. Valkyrie barely traveled by plane, thanks to an ex boyfriend who could teleport and a best friend who could fly, but she still hated it.

            The plane ride had seemed like a good idea at first – it would give her more than enough time to consider the full weight of her decision, and figure out exactly what she was going to do when she arrived home. But now it seemed like torture, hours upon hours to think about how afraid she was of seeing Tanith, China, and her family, the explanations she’d have to give and the smiles she’d have to fake until she could manage one for real.

            Also, she was bored.

            She had fallen asleep an hour or so in, and when Skulduggery had gently nudged her awake, her dinner sat on the tray in front of her.

            “You know,” she said, digging in. “I can cook now. Kinda.”

            “Really?” Skulduggery said, sounding impressed. “I can only imagine what kind of disaster that would lead you to that.”

            “Making myself sick from American frozen dinners,” she said, making a grossed out face, and he smiled.

            “You’ve had that face for hours. Is that another China fix?”

            He nodded.

            “But it still changes,” she said. “Right?”

            “Of course. Why? Do you like this one?”

            She made the same face she had at the frozen dinner.

            “Ah,” he said, and nodded again, like he was thinking.

            A minute later Valkyrie caught him trying to catch his reflection in the seat window, and she smirked.

            A flight attendant walked by and stopped, her smile so bright that it was infectious. Valkyrie didn’t understand how those women (and men) could be so chipper all the time. She’d probably break her face if she had to smile that much.

            “Anything to drink, sweetheart?”

            “Yes, thank you,” she said. “Do you have any pop?”

            “Pepsi or coke?”

            “Either,” Valkyrie said, waving a hand, and the woman handed her a short plastic cup with ice cubes. She placed it on the tray, and turned to Skulduggery, who was staring at her.

            “What?” Valkyrie said, narrowing her eyes.

            “Do you have any pop?” he mimicked, in an exaggerated American accent. She swatted his arm.

            “I do not sound like that.”

            He raised an eyebrow.

            “I do not.”

            Valkyrie heard a laugh, and blinked, realizing the flight attendant had seen the whole thing.

            “How long have you two been together?” she asked, grinning.

            “Oh,” Valkyrie said, going bright red. “Uh.”

            “We’re not together,” Skulduggery answered for her, voice smooth.

            “Oh, my bad,” said the flight attendant, but gave her a wink that made Valkyrie press herself as far into the seat as she could. Valkyrie watched her as she walked away, as if to make sure she wouldn’t come back for round two of humiliation.

            She snuck a quick glance at Skulduggery, who didn’t seem to care at all.

            “I wonder how she would have reacted if I had said we’ve known each other for eleven years,” she wondered aloud.

            “… Probably kick me off the plane for dating a seven year old.”

            “… Right.” Her brow furrowed. “God, that’s weird. I seriously still look eighteen?”

            He nodded. “Like no time has passed at all.” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear it. She swallowed.

            “Right. That’ll probably be a bit weird for my folks.”

            “A bit,” he agreed, keeping his voice down. “But it’s not a bad thing. Unless you don’t want to keep your youth for the next few centuries.”

            “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, that sounds awesome, thank you. Young and beautiful for several hundred years.”

            “You’ll always be beautiful,” Skulduggery replied.

            “… Obviously,” she answered, smiling, and returned to her dinner.

            They spent a few hours catching up on film (including Pitch Perfect 2, which she suspected he enjoyed more than he let on.) She gave up on trying to sync their screens almost immediately, and instead unbuckled her seatbelt and propped up the armrest between them so she could squeeze beside him and watch his screen instead. He didn’t argue.

            Skulduggery was the absolute worst to watch movies with. He was either whispering unwanted commentary in her ear or scoffing at plot points he found unbelievable or cliché, but somehow she found herself realizing she had missed it terribly. She missed all of him, even the boniness that made it next to impossible to get comfortable when pressed up against him like this.

            But she felt – for a lack of a better word – safe, for the first time in five years.

She was already half asleep within the first twenty minutes of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and dozed off with her head resting on his shoulder.

            When she woke again, her head hadn’t moved, but a blanket had been spread across the two of them. Skulduggery was reading a book – she could only make out her uncles name.

            The rest of the plane was sound asleep, and there was no sound but the quiet buzz of machinery and the sound of turning pages.

            “Hey,” she said sleepily, not bothering to move. He turned his head in her direction, his cheek brushing against her forehead.

            “Morning,” he said, and she could feel the words brush against her skin.

            “Is not,” she said, voice slurred.

            “Is almost,” he replied.

            “Why aren’t you asleep?” she asked.

            “In case the plane goes down,” he replied. “I want to save everyone, and then look really, really impressive.”

            “Do y’know how to drive a plane?”

            “Not particularly.”

            She gave him a slow smile. “Good.” She felt sleep pulling at her again, and yawned, snuggling against his shoulder.

            “G’night,” Valkyrie murmured, and was asleep again before she could hear Skulduggery’s response.

            Morning came far too early, and her limbs were sore and her mouth was dry. The seatbelt sign was on, which meant she couldn’t get up and stretch, and instead she sat scowling in her seat, to Skulduggery’s amusement. The anxiety and fear that came with her return home didn’t seem as bad as long as it meant getting off this damn plane.

            Skulduggery was in one of his bizarrely cheerful moods, which she thought he faked just to make her grouchier. Every time she glared at him he’d fake seriousness for a moment before another grin would break across his face. It was infuriating.

            She actually cheered when the overhead announcement came on, and a couple nearby passengers laughed aloud. She scrambled out of her seat as soon as she was able, and reached for her bags in the overhead department. Skulduggery slid in next to her and reached, grabbing the strap of a duffle bag just out of her reach. He handed it to her, their fingers brushing, and then helped another woman struggling with her bags.

            Skulduggery caught her watching and gave a little wave, and she motioned for him to hurry up, smiling despite herself.

            Valkyrie rushed off the plane and back into the terminal, Skulduggery just behind her and shifted from foot to foot as they waited outside to pick up Xena.

            The German shepherd was outside her kennel in a holding area, and ran straight to Valkyrie and covered her in kisses. The dog looked better than Valkyrie did – she seemed to have been brushed and pampered and treated like a queen. Valkyrie laughed out of pure joy, dropping to her knees, and kissed the dog on the forehead.

            “Look at what you’re missing,” she said to Skulduggery, hugging Xena to her. “By being stubborn.”

            He stood a safe distance away, his arms crossed.

            “You’re covered in slobber.”

            “I’m covered in love.”

            “And dog hair.”

            “Love,” she said, firmly, and Xena licked her cheek. She gave her one last hug before guiding her back into her kennel, and thanking the airport employee profusely for taking such good care of her.

            “So,” she said, drinking in the familiarity of the Dublin airport. “Everything looks about the same.”

            “Except for the recent invasion of the squid people, yes.”

            She gave him a withering look. “Are you ever going to cut that out?”

            “Nope,” he said cheerfully, opening the door for her.

            “And why is it always sea creatures? Why are you never threatening me with bird people or something?”

            Ignoring her, Skulduggery stepped outside, looking for something, and then nodded to himself, catching sight of something. “There she is.”

            She frowned. “Who?” She followed his gaze, and then felt an unexplainable warmth and joy as a familiar black car pulled up in front of them.

            “Out,” Skulduggery said, addressing the intern in the driver’s seat. She didn’t recognize him, but he met her eye and gave a bizarre half bow before running over to the taxis.

            “He better not have scratched anything,” Skulduggery muttered, walking around to get it. Valkyrie placed Xena gently on the ground, hand outstretched to the car’s black paint, as glossy and elegant as it has been all those years ago. She saw her partner fight a wince, and she smiled, making a show of wiping her hands on her jeans. He relaxed, and she traced her hand across the door handle.

            “I missed you,” she told the car, feeling only slightly crazy, and then lifted Xena up again.

            “Careful,” Skulduggery said, and she rolled her eyes.

            “Would you rather her just run along side the car?”

            “I am not going to answer that,” he said gruffly, and Valkyrie shook her head. She placed Xena on the back seat, and she promptly curled up inside her kennel and yawned. 

            Valkyrie settled in her seat, buckling her seat belt. Skulduggery looked at her expectantly.

            “So?” Skulduggery prompted.

            “So?”

            “It’s exactly like you used to have it.”

            “I know,” she said. “As it should be.”

            “No exclamations of gratitude for how difficult it was to explain to dozens of people – some of them very important, very old, very grumpy mages that no, they could not adjust the seat, because my partner would one day return to me and then be very, very upset that I considered the comfort of anyone else?”

            “Nope,” she replied cheerfully, and Skulduggery sulked.

            She was feeling better than she had in years, truth be told. It was amazing how little Ireland had changed in the last five years, and that she could slide right back in to the little part of this life that she had occupied.

            “Where to?” Skulduggery asked, and she could hear the forced casual tone in his voice.

            “My family,” she said, glad her voice wasn’t shaking. “They’ve waited long enough.”

            Skulduggery hesitated a moment before turning on the road that lead to Haggard. Valkyrie focused on seeing her little sister, so much taller and older and bigger, instead of the growing feeling she was returning to a place where she no longer belonged.

Chapter Text

            In comparison to the plane, the ride to Haggard blinked by in a moment. Skulduggery pulled up closer to the house than he usually did, and it took her a moment to remember she no longer had to hide him, and that he was now a factor of her life her parents knew and accepted (if begrudgingly).

            She stuck her head outside the window for a better look, mostly because she didn’t trust herself to walk yet. The house had been painted. There were little potted plants to each side of the door, and a bright yellow bicycle was leaning against the steps.

            They were little clues, simple evidence of lives continuing and moving on while she wasn’t there to experience any of it.

            She fumbled with the door lock with shaking hands.

            "Do you want me to stay in the car?” asked Skulduggery.

            “Yes,” Valkyrie answered. “Wait. No. Maybe.”

            His façade was off, and his blank expressionless skull was not reassuring, for once.

            Valkyrie tugged on her hair. “I don’t know. I’m just …”

            She felt a leather glove brushing against her hand, and if she didn’t know him as well as she did, she’d had thought it was an accident.

            Their fingers intertwined, and he squeezed, hard.

            “Come with me?” she asked, voice soft, and he nodded.

            They took Xena’s kennel out of the car, and Valkyrie dug in her bags until she found her leash and water bowl. Skulduggery tossed her a water bottle, and she tied Xena to the front porch and left the water in front of her.

            “Sorry, girl,” she said, softly. “You’ll meet them soon. I hope.”

            Xena licked her hand, and Valkyrie straightened up. Skulduggery gave her a hand up and helped the porch steps, which was unnecessary but appreciated. She kept looking at the bike. God, how could Alice be that big? The bike was bigger than her sister had been the last time she saw her.

            She stared so long she could feel her eyes getting watery, and she blinked hard and forced herself to look at the door.

            Valkyrie sucked in a deep breath, and knocked.

            “Be there in a moment,” came her mother’s voice through the door, and Valkyrie could feel herself shaking like a leaf.

            She wanted to run. She wanted to run back to Colorado, where it was safe and uneventful and boring, and then remembered her past had managed to find her even there, and that there would be no running from this. There was only standing firm, with –

            With Skulduggery by her side, standing still and tall with no intentions of leaving.

            The door opened, to her mother’s smiling face, which suddenly went slack with shock.

            “Stephanie?”

            She could only manage a nod, and Melissa slowly opened the door and pulled her daughter into her arms.

            “Little miss just went down for a nap,” Melissa explained, as Valkyrie sat down at her old dinner table. Skulduggery stood behind her, looking like a bodyguard.

            Valkyrie nodded. “You look-”

            “Old?” Melissa suggested, with a little smile.

            Her daughter shook her head. “Beautiful.” But old, too, in a way that almost felt more startling than the bicycle. Her mother was in her late forties now – an age she wasn’t used to seeing on the faces of her centuries old friends.

            "You really haven’t aged a day,” Melissa said, her voice soft and full of awe. “I saw you and those other people do so many unbelievable things, but somehow this manages to be the most incredible. No offense,” she said to Skulduggery.

            “None taken,” he said.

            “I’m so glad you’re home,” she said. “After … after so many years.”

            She could see the way her mother’s expression was changing, how the joy and relief was wearing away to reveal something much colder underneath.

            Valkyrie swallowed. “Home,” she said in agreement.

            “Well,” came her father’s voice from the stairs, as bright and cheerful as ever. “It was difficult, but I managed to subdue her and knock her unconscious with the help of-”

            He walked into the kitchen, looking from Valkyrie to Skulduggery to Valkyrie again.

            He said nothing, just walked over and threw his arms around her, and she could feel the tears welling up again. It was a few minutes before he broke it off, and he straightened up, and to Valkyrie’s complete and total shock, hugged Skulduggery as well.

            “You brought her home?” he said, his voice low, and she had the feeling she wasn’t supposed to hear it.

            Skulduggery hesitated, and then shook his head. “She brought herself home. I carried the bags.”

            He didn’t bother to lower his voice. She shot him a grateful look, and he gave her the slightest tilt of his head in return.

            Desmond squeezed his daughter’s shoulder and sat next to his wife, and her parents stared at her.

            “So,” Desmond said. “Does this mean – no more America? You’re home for good?”

            Valkyrie nodded. “I’ve been away for too long.  I – I missed you.”

            “And we missed you so much, sweetheart,” Desmond said. “We didn’t know if you’d be back or for how long or the next time we’d see you…”

            “You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Valkyrie cut him off, her voice rising. “It’s done. I’m here. I’m – I want to resume my life.”

            “With us,” Desmond said.

            “Of course,” Valkyrie said, her brow furrowed. “That’s all I want.”

            “So no more magic?”

            “... No,” Valkyrie said, cautiously. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t see you-”

            “And are you going to start attending university?” Melissa asked, out of nowhere.

            Valkyrie swallowed. “… No.”

            “Were you ever going to attend school?”

            Valkyrie didn’t trust herself to speak anymore. She shook her head.

            "So you’re returning to magic, and getting your life in danger, and us never knowing if you’re alive or dead – how is this any different from when you were in America?”

            Valkyrie opened and closed her mouth before replying. “I’ll visit whenever I can. I – I don’t want to lose you.”

            “And we don’t want to lose you, either,” Desmond said.

            “But you disappeared in the middle of the night,” Melissa interjected. “With no prior warning. We had no idea what had happened, or where you’d gone -”

            "I said I’d be leaving –"

            “No. You told him,” Melissa said, and gestured at Skulduggery, who remained silent. “And he told us, a day after you were gone, when it was too late to say goodbye.”

            “I had to,” Valkyrie said, fighting to keep her voice even. “I couldn’t handle saying goodbye to you, or to …”

            She was going to. She was on her way to his house, she remembered. She stood on his front step and was going to knock on the door, just for a hug, just to say goodbye, when she realized that if she heard his voice just one more time she’d never be able to leave. She’d keep postponing it, feeling worse and worse inside, and be trapped in her own remorse forever.

            So she walked away.

            She left a voicemail when she landed, after about six attempts that were ruined by her bursting into tears, and that was it.

            “… Or to him,” she said, looking down at her hands.

            “We’re not angry with you, Stephanie,” Melissa said, a line Valkyrie distinctly remembered from when she’d get in trouble at school. “We’re just … we don’t understand what’s going on. We find out about magic, and your secret life, and get thrown into this world – and then a few months later, you’re gone.”

            “I know,” Valkyrie said, louder now. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do it, but I had to.”

            “Why on earth would you have to leave?” Melissa said, shaking her head.

            You wouldn’t understand,” Valkyrie said, hating both the cliché of it and the lie. (They would, that voice in her head reminded her. They’d understand all too well, and never want to see you again. They’d wonder why you ever came back.)

            “I don’t understand,” Desmond said, shaking his head. “We saw you almost every day before the whole memory stick thing. And then – nothing for five years? And only visits now?”

            Valkyrie frowned. “It’s not -”

            And then it hit her.

            From her perspective, she had been fading away from her parents for years when she left. She had gone nearly a month without seeing them during her Darquesse episode, and even before that would sometimes go weeks.

            But it wasn’t quite like that for them, wasn’t it? Of course, the reflection had been cold and distant for the first year or so, but she was still there almost every single day, eating breakfast or helping her dad find something.

            But then Skulduggery was in the Faceless Ones’ realm, and the reflection started to become Stephanie, and her parents were none the wiser.

            She never told them about Stephanie.

            She didn’t think she ever could.

            “I – that was-” she fought to think of a lie that sounded believable, a lie that was better than the terrible, terrible truth. That she hadn’t abandoned her parents five years ago – no, no. It was much longer than that.

            “What is it?” Desmond said, his voice affectionate and warm, but it only filled her with a cold sense of dread.

            “Valkyrie has far more responsibilities than she did when she was younger,” Skulduggery answered for her, his voice calm and rational. “Not only does she hold the elite position of official detective, but there are  … expectations for her, that she has to live up to. I am sure she will try her hardest to balance every element of her life, including her family.”

            “But she’s our daughter first,” Melissa argued.

            "No,” Skulduggery said. “She is her own person, first and foremost. And it is her choice to make.”

            “She’s still so young-” her mother protested, and Valkyrie stood up.

            “I’m twenty three,” Valkyrie said, finding her voice again. “I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, and have been for a long time- ”

            "It doesn’t mean you’re making the right ones,” Melissa said, gently, but with a determination that alerted Valkyrie that this had been a long time coming. That argument, she realized, when they first found out, had simply been put on hold. “As your parents it’s our job to guide you, even if – even if you’re an adult, we want to keep you from making mistakes-”

            “Mistakes?”

            "Yes,” Melissa said, standing now as well. “I’m not going to pretend that isn’t exactly what this is, Stephanie. You nearly were killed – we were all nearly killed – and you think that was the right choice?”

            “Yes,” Valkyrie said, so fiercely it surprised even her. “I mean – God, no, I didn’t want any of us in danger, but this is – it’s who I am, Mum.”

            Melissa shook her head. “You don’t know who you are yet. You’re-”

            "Stop treating me like a child,” Valkyrie retorted, her voice now dangerously close to yelling. “It’s too late, okay? There’s no going back from what I’ve done, the person I am now, and no amount of you treating it like something therapy can fix will change that-”

            “What are you talking about?” Desmond asked.

            “What did you do?” Melissa said at the same time, this time addressed at Skulduggery, and Valkyrie made a noise of pure frustration.

            “Nothing,” she said. “This has nothing to do with him.”

            "Then why is he here?” Melissa said. “We saw more of him than you over the past few years – coming over whenever he had received a postcard or some time scrap of information from you-”

            Valkyrie spun around in surprise, staring at her partner.

            “When were you going to tell me this?” she asked, too confused and overwhelmed to even begin to consider how she felt about it.

            “… Eventually,” Skulduggery answered, and she scowled but it was not the time to argue about it.

            Not while she was already in the middle of an argument, at least.

            “It doesn’t matter,” she said, turning back to her parents.  “This is my choice. The least you can do is support me, as my family-”

            “Even after you got hurt? Even if your sister got hurt?” Melissa said.

            “I would never hurt Alice,” Valkyrie snapped, and the lie came so, so easily.

            “Of course you wouldn’t, but you’re inviting that kind of-” she cut herself off, and turned around, facing the entrance to the dining room.

            Valkyrie blinked, and watched as her baby sister – not so much a baby anymore – wandered into the kitchen, clutching a stuffed toy. She wiped at her eyes, sleepily.

            “You woke me up,” she addressed their mother, grabbing onto her wrist.

            “I’m sorry, sweetie,” Melissa said, gently. “I’ve been talking to … to your…”

            Alice turned, and then finally noticed Valkyrie. Her eyes widened, and then she slunk back behind her mother shyly, hiding behind her leg.

            Alice didn’t recognize her.

            Her own sister didn’t recognize her.

            Valkyrie took a step back and fell against Skulduggery, who put his hands on her shoulders and kept her from falling over. His façade was back on.

            “Say hello to your sister, Alice.” Desmond said, gently nudging the girl. Recognition began to dawn on the little girl’s face; in a way that reminded Valkyrie of how she used to react to a distant aunt she had heard of but never met.

            “Hi,” Alice said, quietly.

            “Hi, Alice,” Valkyrie said, her voice a croak.

            She looked her up and down, in the unashamed way that children did. Her gaze reached up to Skulduggery.

            “Oh, it’s you.” Alice said, frowning. “How does your face change?”

            “That’s a rude question to ask,” Skulduggery said, smoothly. He was still holding Valkyrie, like he was afraid she’d fly away.

            “Sorry,” Alice said, quickly.

            She knew him better than she knew her, Valkyrie realized. He had seen her more than she had, over these last few years. Her heart was pounding and her head was swimming.

            Her gaze darted between her mother and father. Her mum was distracted by Alice, but she knew that this argument wasn’t over, and she didn’t think she could do it anymore.

            Fight or flight, she thought.

            “I have to go,” she said, and she caught Skulduggery tilting his head in surprise. “I need to, um, unpack, and-”

            “Of course,” Desmond said. “But we’ll see you soon, right? You’ll come over for dinner?”

            Valkyrie nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak.

            “Bye, Alice,” she said, and the little girl gave her a tiny wave before returning her attention to her stuffed animal.      

            Valkyrie turned and walked out of the house, her head high. Skulduggery was a few steps behind her, and paused to fix a slightly off center plant.

            She walked down the steps, and took a deep breath, counting to ten.

            She was fine.

            She was alive.

            She was home.

            She was – forgotten.

            The tears came suddenly, hot and fast, and before she knew it she was sobbing, and Skulduggery was dodging a barking, angry Xena to get to her. His arms were around her, pulling her close.

            She could only cling to him, crying too hard to speak, and he pushed her hair back and let her sob.

            Her tears soaked into his lovely three piece suit, and she remembered how tired and disheveled she was from traveling, traveling all this way for them, and cried harder. Skulduggery said nothing, just stroked her hair and let her cling to him.

            After a few minutes, the shaking hyperventilating sobs had stopped, and Skulduggery turned and looked back at Xena.

            The dog was still at his heels, growling, and he sighed.

            “It wasn’t me,” he said indignantly. “It – it wasn’t, was it?”

            Valkyrie shook her head.

            “Right,” said Skulduggery. “Valkyrie, I hate to break it to you, but … your dog is immeasurably and immensely stupid.”

            Her brow crinkled, and she almost laughed. “She is not.”

            “You have to accept these things, dear. There are classes. I think.”

            “She’s not stupid,” Valkyrie said, and sniffed. “She’s just protective.”

            “As am I,” he responded. “But am I the most intelligent person you know.”

            “You’re arguing with a dog.”

            “That I am,” he said, nodding, and Xena growled. He tilted his head. “Stop that.”

            She sighed at him, and placed a hand on the top of the German shepherd’s head, calming her slightly. As she straightened, Valkyrie saw the curtains in the window stir, and she tensed. “Can we move?”

            “Of course.”

            They sat on the pier, Skulduggery’s façade off, though he assured he could turn it on if anyone walked by. It was a cold January day, and the beach was deserted, the only sound being the always constant waves.

            She was stuck in that awful state of thinking she was done crying and then bursting out into tears again, but all Skulduggery did was let her lean into him and quietly wait for it to pass so she could speak again.

            “You shouldn’t take what your mother said to heart,” he said, voice soft. “It must have a been a surprise for her, and she wouldn’t have been thinking rationally…”

            “It doesn’t matter,” Valkyrie said, hugging her knees. “I don’t know why I thought this was going to work.”

            “Because you’re fully capable of balancing it,” said Skulduggery. His voice was calm, gentle. “You’ve always have been.”

            She shook her head, expression pained. “But I’m not that person anymore. Darquesse stole my strength, and Stephanie took my compassion. Now all that’s left is someone who’s too selfish to do what’s right and too scared to fix that’s wrong.”

            Skulduggery tilted his head. “It was one less than ideal encounter with your family. Do you really think that’s enough to decide that it’s no longer worth it?”

            Her brow furrowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

            His hands reached for her, cupping her face in both hands. “I know. And you can take as long as you want. If they waited five years …”

            “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Valkyrie said, her voice rising. “Did you see how Alice looked at me?”

            “Her long term memory has only started to develop,” he said. “You have decades to make memories with her.”

            “Or more,” Valkyrie murmured.

            “Or more,” he agreed.

            “Is it – is it bad? That sometimes I wish she … “

            He shook his head.

            “I don’t want to see her grow older than me. And I don’t want to see her die. Again,” she added, in a much quieter voice. “I just wish I could have that guarantee that I’d have at least someone for the next however many years …”

            Skulduggery’s thumb brushed away a stray tear. “You have me.”

            She gave him a small smile. “But you’re not my family.”

            He pulled back slightly. “… No,” he said. “Of course not.” His hands released her.

            “I didn’t mean to – I know what happened with your family is-”

            “It’s nothing,” Skulduggery cut in, and she knew he was lying.

            “Wanting Alice to be magic isn’t anything to be ashamed of,” he said, removing lint from the brim of his hat. “Neither is wanting her to remain mortal. But what that does tell me is you want her in your life, no matter what.”

            She swallowed. “I’m not ready to do that again-”

            “Not yet,” he said. “But I know you can, whenever you’re ready.”

            Valkyrie bit her lip. “Do you think I rushed into this? That I should have waited a few days, or …?”

            “No,” he said. “You needed this. And it gets easier from here on out.”

            He stood up, and she wiped her snotty nose on her sleeve before joining him and walking back to the Bentley.

            Xena had calmed down considerably, though she aimed a growl at Skulduggery. He tilted his head upwards, his version of an eye roll.

            “Hey,” she said, arms crossed. “Stop antagonizing my dog.”

            “She started it.”

            “You’re such a goon,” she said. She packed up all of Xena’s things and replaced them in the car. Once they were all ready, she yawned, and then scowled. “I hate jet lag. I need a nap.”

            “I can take you to Gordon’s mansion,” Skulduggery said.

            Valkyrie pressed her lips together. “It feels so weird to call it that now, with him gone … but it still doesn’t feel like mine. Nobody’s even been in it except the cleaning ladies for five years. What do you even do with a mansion nobody really wants?”

            “I’m sure most twenty something year olds would love to have that problem,” Skulduggery said. “But if ... if it does bother you …” His eyes remained firmly on the road while he talked. “Your bed at my house is still ready. If you’d like,” he added quickly.

            “Oh,” Valkyrie said, blinking. “Oh, no, I … I, I think I need to be alone for a little while.”

            “I understand,” he said. “I’m sorry if I sounded -”

            “No, no, not at all,” Valkyrie said. They both went silent, and she felt like she could poke the awkwardness with a stick.

            The mansion, in stark contrast to her family’s house, was exactly as she remembered it, whether it was hiding from a man with only a poker to defend herself or hunting down wayward death bringers. Compared to the other events of the past 24 hours, it was a relief she was overwhelmingly grateful for.

            She gave Skulduggery a quick, awkward hug across the gearshift before running down the path leading to the house. It had started to rain, and she was half soaked before even reaching the front step.

            Skulduggery gave her a little wave from the Bentley, which she returned with a small smile, and then slipped inside.

            Valkyrie dropped her duffle bags on the floor of the living room, and walked upstairs to the grand master bathroom and took a bath. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had taken a bath. Closing her eyes, she let the steam soak into her skin, and letting the memories of the day slowly slip from her thoughts.

            She stepped out, searching for a bathrobe. She had forgotten her hairdryer in Meek Ridge, so she towel dried her hair as best she could and braided it to keep it out of her way. It fell to the small of her back now – after one not so great self administered hair cut, she had decided to leave it alone until she came back.

            Valkyrie stopped, catching her reflection in a full-length mirror. She hadn’t kept one in Meek Ridge, for … obvious reasons. She felt a combination of sadness and déjà vu, and tucked her hands under her arms to resist the urge to reach out and touch the surface as she always would.

            She looked so young.

            She felt twenty three – she could feel every day of her exile, feel it all weighing down on her and aging her in a way her body wouldn’t for decades –if not centuries. Her skin was perfect – more unblemished than it had been before her surge. Her mother, she knew, had gotten wrinkles early from stress. But no matter how she pulled at her skin, she couldn’t see a single one.

            Her eyes, on the other hand, looked old and sad even to her. They had for a long, long time.

            There was a time where she had enjoyed admiring herself, she thought, with a half crazed laugh. Where mirrors hadn’t brought painful memories. She closed the bathroom door and jotted downstairs, feeling her stomach rumbling as she walked.

            There was some food in the fridge, which she assumed was the cleaning ladies’. She felt bad for taking someone else’s food, but it was technically her house, after all. The toast was sort of stale, but if she ran it through the toaster it was manageable. There was jam too (though it was boysenberry – who the hell eats boysenberry?)  and she ate at the kitchen counter, feeling very young indeed.

            After a less than fulfilling dinner, she sat on the couch, feeling fidgety. She couldn’t find the remote for the TV, and she didn’t want to unpack her laptop, so she sat and waited for any sort of inspiration to hit.

            The next thing she knew, she was asleep.

             When she woke, the house was dark, and she fumbled for the nearest lamp and located her phone. She had a single text from Skulduggery (“Call me when you wake up”) and yawned before tapping his name and calling him. He picked up before the first ring.

            “Hi,” she said.

            His response was immediate. “You forgot your dog.”

            Valkyrie raised her eyebrows, playing innocent. “Did I?”

            “Yes, you did. You left her in the car.”

            Valkyrie sat up, leaning against the armrest. “So what did you do?”

            “I had to go to the store and buy her food and more water, and then I had to take her for a walk even though she kept trying to bite me and pee on my leg, and now she’s asleep with her head on my knee even though I keep moving away and …” his voice trailed off, and there was a moment of silence before he spoke again.

            “ … You did not forget your dog,” Skulduggery said at last, and she could hear the frown in his voice.

            “You bonded,” she said smugly.

            “I did not,” he said, sounding indignant.

            “You totally did.”

            “I was fearful for my own life. It was not my choice. I think this counts as Stockholm syndrome.”

            "You poor baby,” she said, grinning. “I am so sorry for your trauma.”

            “Ah,” he said. “That, that sarcasm right there? Truly, what I missed the most.”

            “He said, sarcastically.”

            “You’re a bad influence.”

            There was a rustle on the other end, and he sighed. “May I come over and deliver the beast before she becomes permanently grafted to my leg?”

            She nodded, and then realized he couldn’t see it, and laughed at herself. “Yes.”

            “Excellent,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Chapter Text

           Routines were surprisingly difficult to return to. It was amazing how frustrating it was, to know exactly what you wanted to do and how you were supposed to do it, and yet being stuck. Valkyrie had spent years doing what basically amounted to the same thing for years – switching out the end of the world threat when appropriate – and knew that life like the back of her hand. All she had wanted to slip back into that life, to go on like those five years had never happened. But nothing could be that simple. Not for Valkyrie Cain, at least.

                  Bad habits were much easier to return to.

                  It had been two weeks since she had returned to Ireland and her catastrophic encounter with her parents, and she hadn’t had the strength to attempt that – or interacting with anyone else – again. Her life in Gordon’s mansion was a lot like Meek Ridge. She slept, she ate, she played with Xena. One day she woke up to find that all of her possessions from her house in Colorado had been moved in. Skulduggery and Fletcher had handled it. Without her seeing the latter once. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to see him. Or if she wanted to.

                  Or for that matter, if he wanted to see her.

                  Skulduggery had told her they had plenty of time, and that he would understand her needing her space. He was very clearly lying to make her feel better, but she appreciated his attempts. She could always count on him for that.

                  That was the one thing that was different, she figured. The one thing that made this different from her punishment in Meek Ridge.

                  Having him in her life again.

                  Her phone rang, right on cue.

                  “Hi,” she said, and yawned.

                  Skulduggery’s voice was amused. “You’re in a good mood.”

                  “How can you tell?”

                  “Because you haven’t greeted me with the usual, ‘For God’s sake, Skulduggery, it’s eight in the morning.”

                  “I am pretty sure it normally has a lot more swearing.”

                  “Very much so. And what has you in such a good mood? Have you guessed your surprise?”

                  Valkyrie sat down on the sofa in the living room, kicking her feet up. “The point of surprises isn’t usually to announce you have a surprise.”

                  “But you’re going to love this one. It’ll be fun.”

                  Valkyrie pulled back from the phone and made a face. “Oh no.”

                  “What do you mean, oh no? Do you not trust me?”

                  “You only tell me about how much fun I’m going to have when you’re about to force me to do something I really don’t want to do.”

                  “You’ll want to do this,” he said. “… Or at least you will eventually.”

                  Valkyrie brow furrowed. “And what does that mean?”

                  “You’re going to leave the house today,” Skulduggery said. “Rejoice and what not.”

                  Valkyrie’s eyes widened. “What? No.”

                  “I didn’t even tell you why,” he said.

                  “I’m not leaving,” she said immediately. “I’m tired and I look like crap. And I’m busy. With …” she looked around the living room, and all the things that had piled up since she had dismissed the cleaning ladies. “… cleaning.”

                  “And this has nothing with the fact you no longer want to talk to people.”

                  “I see you almost every day,” she argued.

                  “I’m not a person,” Skulduggery said. “I’m a supernatural entity blessing you with my presence.”

                  “Oh, cheers.”

                  “Besides,” he said. “I don’t think you’ve left the house in days, if not a week. ”

                  “I left yesterday to buy groceries,” she protested immediately. “You clearly don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

                  Skulduggery paused, considering this. “Take your boots off the coffee table.”

                  Valkyrie’s eyebrows raised, and then she lowered her feet back onto the ground. “How did you-”

                  “Because I know you.”

                  Valkyrie scowled and grumbled something inaudible.

                  “Whether or you like it or not, they’ll be there any minute now.” Valkyrie groaned, and he ignored her. “I promise, you’ll enjoy this.”

                  “I hate you,” she muttered, pushing herself up and off the sofa. There was a knock on the door, and she groaned again, directly into the phone.

                  “You’ll thank me later,” he said, and hung up.

                  Valkyrie dragged her feet over to the door. Whoever the hell it was would just have to turn around and leave. She wasn’t in the mood

                  And not a lot of people would argue with Valkyrie Cain.

                  She reached for the door, already arranging her features into pure annoyance, and opened it to a familiar face, grinning widely.

                  It took Valkyrie a minute to realize the blonde had thrown her arms around her and hugged her hard, and she laughed and hugged her back.

                  “God,” Tanith said, pulling back and wiping away a stray tear. “It’s so good to see you.”

                  Valkyrie felt tongue tied, searching for an excuse for why she hadn’t said a word to one of her closest friends in the past two weeks, but Tanith spoke for her.

                  “When Skulduggery told me you were done with your work-thing I couldn’t come over here fast enough.”

                  She frowned. “Work-thing?”

                  Tanith shrugged. “I know, it’s all top secret stuff. He didn’t tell me anything, don’t worry.”

                  Valkyrie blinked, absorbing the knowledge that Skulduggery had lied for her. Again. “Right. Sorry.”

                  Tanith gave her a another shrug and then shook it off, beaming at her. “I’m just so happy you’re back.”

                  “Me too,” Valkyrie said, and Tanith linked their arms at the elbows and walked her out the door.

                  Valkyrie bit back a laugh. “This kind of feels like being led by an overexcited kid.”

                  “Oh, ssh, I’m not that short.”

                  They walked outside the main gate, and Valkyrie eyed a convertible.  

                  “No bike today?”

                  “Trust me, I am as disappointed as you sound. But it’s not exactly easy to fit three people on it.”

                  As if on cue, a petite brunette popped out from the driver’s seat. Tanith was right – she was a giant next to her. The girl was maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. She might have been half Japanese, or something like that.

                  She strode over to meet them, and Tanith’s smile widened.

                  “This is Aurora Jane,” she said. “Aurora, this is Valkyrie Cain. Your names almost rhyme.”

                  “Aurora and Valkyrie?” Aurora said, with a slight eyebrow raise.

                  “I said almost.”

                  Valkyrie laughed, and held out her hand for Aurora to shake. Despite the tininess, her grip was strong.

                  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Valkyrie said.

                  “A lot doesn’t quite cover the amount I’ve heard about Valkyrie Cain,” Aurora said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

                  Tanith grinned. “Good. I know you two would get along. Now,” she said, spinning around to face them. “We are going to have fun.” She emphasized this by pounding her fist into her open palm.

                  “Do we have to?” Aurora asked.

                  “Yes.”

                  “Damn,” Valkyrie said, and Aurora snickered.

                  Tanith gave them a look. “I am starting to think introducing you two was a bad idea.”

                  “Probably,” Aurora said, and put an arm around her as they walked to the car.

                  Valkyrie shook her head, still smiling, and followed them.

                   Tanith was horrified to find that Valkyrie hadn’t eaten since six pm the day before, and they immediately dragged her into a hole-in-the-wall-restaurant she vaguely remembered from years and years before. Despite the years since the two of them had been close (eight, if you didn’t count the brief period between Tanith’s deremnanting and Valkyrie’s departure) Tanith didn’t seem to have missed a beat. She was right back into Valkyrie’s big sister role, like nothing had happened. Valkyrie was amazed she had recovered so easily and so quickly, but - then again, Tanith had always been tough.

                  The blonde tore her bread apart before shoving it into her mouth, and Valkyrie realized just how much she missed Tanith – the real Tanith.

                  “Your table manners are worse than I remembered,” Valkyrie said.

                  “Oh, no, my table manners are excellent. I was raised a proper Edwardian lady. This is just really good bread.”

                  “If Tanith doesn’t eat her weight in carbs, her metabolism will explode and she will literally die,” Aurora explained. “Literally. Or so she claims.”

                  “It’s a scientific inevitability,” Tanith added, and Valkyrie laughed at looked back at Aurora.

                  “Where are you from? Your accent sounds so … Hollywood.” It was actually bizarrely comforting, hearing an American accent again.

                  “Thereabouts,” Aurora answered. “And what about you? Where were you hiding out?” Aurora rested her chin in her palm. “If it’s not top secret information.”

                  Valkyrie shook her head. “Not particularly. I was in Colorado.”

                  “... Huh,” Aurora said.  “Any particular reason?”

                  “It was there.”

                  “Probably the kindest thing you can say about it,” Aurora said. “I have some friends who live there. But … you probably weren’t talking to any mages.”

                  “Not until they were the ones trying to hunt me down a few weeks ago, no.”

                  “Look at you, having fun without me,” Tanith said, without missing a beat.

                  “It is far less fun when you’re five years out of practice,” Valkyrie said, making a face.

                  “Wimp,” Tanith said, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, hey, that reminds me. I’ve learned plenty of new moves while you’re gone – so if you’d like to train again, any time soon…”

                  “Really?” Valkyrie's eyes widened.

                  “Of course,” she said, and Valkyrie beamed.

                  Tanith wanted to take them shopping, which Aurora grumbled about, but Valkyrie was happier about it than she probably should have been. Shopping with friends. It was all so normal.

                  Which of course, lasted all of five minutes.

                  They were walking around the outlets when Tanith stopped short, frowning. “Hold on.”

                  Valkyrie turned around to look in the direction that Tanith was looking.

                  “I think I …” Trailing off, she tilted her head, and then Valkyrie noticed a blonde staring at them. She stood completely still, like a dear in headlights, and then she and Tanith’s gaze met.

                  As if pulled from a daze, the mystery girl broke into a run off in the opposite direction, pushing past shoppers.

                  Tanith, without hesitation, took off after her, and Aurora and Valkyrie exchanged a baffled look before they followed her, apologizing to shoppers as they weaved through them, trying to keep the other two in sight.

                  The girl was scrambling over fountains and through large crowds, but she was clearly not built for athleticism. She ran herself into an isolated corner, and soon Tanith had grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her around.

                  The girl made a small, scared noise, and then abruptly punched Tanith in the face.

                  Tanith swore, mostly out of surprise, and grabbed her nose as her girlfriend stepped in and grabbed the girl by the arms.

                  She squirmed, but Aurora’s grip was firm. Valkyrie had no idea what was happening any more.

                  Tanith’s nose wasn’t bleeding, at least. She dropped her hand, frowning deeply, and then looked right at the blond girl.

                  “What the hell, Sabine?” Tanith asked, more confused than angry.

                  “Y-you know what you did,” the blonde spoke for the first time, glaring up at them. She had a slightly German accent.

                  “Well, I don’t have any idea what is going on,” Valkyrie said, feeling very stupid.

                  Aurora shot her an equally confused look.

                  Sabine was still fighting to get free, but she was turning to look at Aurora Jane now. “Wait, I-I know you, too. You were working with the Dead Men. Why are you with her?”

                  Realization began to dawn on Aurora’s face.  “Hold on. You were – you were part of the team. For the God Killer weapons.”

                  Valkyrie frowned, remembering what the Monster Hunters had told her about that little mission. Just the recap had made her glad she, for once, had no involvement in it.

                  Mostly because Skulduggery had thought it would have been awkward for her to try to recover weapons that would be prepared to kill her.

                  (She had whole heartedly agreed.)

                  Sabine voice was tinted with fear and anger, making her words halting and shaky. “You should know exactly what she did to me – what she did to all of them--”

                  “Hold on,” Aurora said, tightening her grip. “This is Tanith. The real Tanith. She hasn’t had the remnant for five years.”

                  Sabine frowned, and then looked for a long time at Tanith, and then at Valkyrie.

                  “Hi,” Valkyrie said. “I still don’t know what’s happening.”

                  Sabine looked back at Tanith, and then shook her head, as if confused. “But – how? I thought it was supposed to be permanent.”

                  “It’s a long story,” Tanith said, waving a hand. “But – hold on, Sabine, I haven’t seen you for almost forty years. What are you two talking about?”

                  “Back when you had the remnant,” said Sabine, speaking slowly. “You had me sent to my death.”

                  “Oh,” Tanith said. “Sorry.”

                  Aurora sighed, as if this was not the first time something like this had happened. “If I release you,” Aurora said, tilting her head to meet Sabine’s eye, “will you punch my girlfriend again?”

                  “…No,” Sabine said. “I just did it because I didn’t know what else to do.”

                  Valkyrie frowned. “You see the woman who almost had you killed and you just … hit her in the face?”

                  “It … seemed like the best choice at the time,” Sabine said, deflating slightly, and Valkyrie decided she liked her.

                  Aurora let her go, and she slumped, rubbing her arms nervously.

                  “I’ve been trying to keep out of sight for the past couple years,” she said. “I didn’t hear what happened to you, so I thought maybe Darquesse killed you…”

                  Valkyrie winced involuntarily.

                  “… But I didn’t think you would have become yourself again.” She frowned. “Do you not remember … anything?”

                  Tanith shook her head. “Not a bit. The doctors said it might come back, but … nope.”

                  “… You hurt a lot of people. You killed Spring Heeled Jack –“

                  “Oh,” Valkyrie said. “That’s where he went.”

                  “And Black Annis. And – is the vampire still alive?”

                  “Who, Dusk? Yeah,” Aurora said. “Wait, you tried to kill her but you left Dusk alive?”

                  Tanith shrugged. “Don’t look at me.”

                  “And you sent me off to Thames Chabon in exchange for a favor. So he could … settle his debts with me.” Her teeth were gritted.

                  “So how did you get out?” Tanith asked, frowning.

                  “Your boyfriend,” Sabine said, and Tanith went pale.

                  “Ex boyfriend,” Aurora muttered, but Sabine continued on as if she hadn’t heard.

                  “He rescued me, killed Chabon, in exchange for me charging another set of weapons for him so he could trick you. Told me to stay out of sight for the next few years. Guessing he’s rotting in jail?”

                  Valkyrie shook her head. “He … died, five years ago.”

                  “Oh,” Sabine said. “Oh. I … never liked him, but – he saved my life.”

                  “I know the feeling,” Tanith said softly, and for the first time, Sabine’s expression softened.

                  “Well,” Tanith said, back to her usual chipperness. “I’m glad I wasn’t actually successful at sending you to your death. And I’m sorry. If there’s anything I could do to make up for it-”

                  “There isn’t,” Sabine said, voice steely. “But … I’m glad you’re yourself again.”

                  “Me too,” Tanith said. “As are they. This is Aurora Jane, who, as you noticed, is definitely not fighting me anymore. And then ...” She turned to introduce Valkyrie, but Sabine was already looking in her direction.

                  Sabine head tilted, as she seemed to finally take Valkyrie in. And then her eyes widened.

                  “You’re Darquesse,” she said, with a little gasp. “I mean – you’re Valkyrie – or you were Darquesse - not that I’m saying -”

                  “I got it,” Valkyrie said, cutting her off before she could bury herself any deeper. “But yes. Nice to meet you. “

                  She expected Sabine to be afraid of her, or hate her, or something, but instead she took a small step foreword and frowned at her, tilting her head.

                  “I’m able to give or take away magic for a short period of time,” she said, “but with you … I can sense it, but it’s not on the same level.”

                  “Oh. Yeah. Honestly, I have no idea what it is.”

                  “May I?” Sabine asked, reaching for Valkyrie’s arm, but Tanith cleared her throat.

                  “We’re actually on a tight schedule,” Tanith said. “Sorry.”

                  Sabine frowned. “But what are you all doing here in the first place? Don’t you have important Sanctuary business, or … are you undercover?”

                  “Nope,” Tanith said. “We’re shopping. And then we’re going to go have a Star Wars marathon, because someone hasn’t seen the new films yet.” She gave Valkyrie a sharp look, and then turned back to Sabine. “But if you’d ever like to talk to me – or continuing prodding at Valkyrie – you can visit the Sanctuary any time. The people there would be happy to help you with anything you need as well. We’re not bad company when we’re not mass killers, I promise.”

                  “I’d like to mention I am normal,” Aurora said, “and have never been possessed by anything.”

                  “You’re so boring, AJ,” Tanith said, with a little shake of her head. “But Sabine, any time you need a favor-”

                  “I know where to contact you,” Sabine finished for her, meeting her eye.

                  “Good,” Tanith said. “And you know, I feel really really bad about that whole murder thing.”

                  Sabine sighed. “I know.”

                   Tanith’s living room was well equipped, with a giant TV and full sound system. Aurora was passed out on the sofa, having already watched the films, “already like, a dozen times” with Tanith since they came out.

                  “You know,” Valkyrie said, finishing off the last of the popcorn. “I can’t imagine having to actually wait for these films.”

                  “I’ve been a fan since 1977,” Tanith said. “It was unbearable.”

                  “God,” Valkyrie breathed. “I think I’m too impatient to be immortal.”

                  “Probably,” Tanith said, leaning back. “Being immortal is fun, though. Mostly. You get to try everything once. Sometimes you don’t know what you want until you’ve already given it up.”

                  She reached across the sofa, brushing Aurora’s hair off her face.

                  “… Which is probably the best thing about it,” she continued. “You get to fix your past mistakes.”

                  “… Yeah,” Valkyrie said, pulling her legs up onto the seat. “So I’ve heard.”

                  The credits started rolling, and Tanith clicked the fast forward button and lounged against the sofa’s armrest.

                  She was so relaxed. And throughout the day Valkyrie had been too – before memories of her encounter with her family came rushing back and made her want to duck and cover all over again.

                  “How do you do it?” Valkyrie asked, forcing a casual tone. “Go back to normal like nothing ever happened.”

                  “Ha,” Tanith said, dryly. “Tell me when you figure it out.”

                  Valkyrie’s brow furrowed. “But you’re-”

                  “Nowhere near recovered, Val.” Tanith shrugged. “You saw how I reacted when … well, let’s just say I can’t hear a southern accent without cringing. But it’s okay. I have time to figure things out and fix my mistakes. And I’m lucky enough to have people who put up with me.”

                  They both looked at Aurora’s sleeping face.

                  “I’m really glad you do,” Valkyrie said.

                  “And so do you.” Tanith’s voice was gentle. “You have me, and Aurora likes you already. Not to mention China actually misses you, which makes you probably one of a kind-”

                  “Wait, you’re talking to China?”

                  “I’ve accepted that she wasn’t as bad as I thought she was,” Tanith said begrudgingly. “Sometimes. But what I meant is that if you ever need any sort of support …”

                  “I know,” Valkyrie said, too quickly. She didn’t want to admit that just the idea of talking to people about Meek Ridge made her panic, let alone what had sent her there.

                  Tanith glanced back at the screen and swore, realizing she had fast forwarded to the menu screen. She fixed it, while Valkyrie played with the ends of her hair.

                  “How … how has Skulduggery been?”

                  Tanith kept her eyes on the screen. “Great? You’ve seen him.”

                  “No, I mean … when I was gone.”

                  “Oh,” Tanith said, and she turned her head. “Well … quieter, obviously. But not angry or anything. I think he was just glad you were alive and safe.”

                  Valkyrie shoulder’s relaxed slightly. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. Did he … talk to China a lot?”

                  “Not really,” Tanith said, and then “there we go,” when she finally got the film paused in the right place. “Mostly kept to himself. And why didn’t you tell me China killed his family? Do you know how jarring it is for that to pop up in casual conversation?”

                  “I didn’t even know until after the Requiem Ball,” Valkyrie said. “Sorry I didn’t immediately fill you in on every piece of drama you missed.”

                  “You should be. Do you know how confusing that whole Stephanie-Fletcher-You drama was? Your love life is extremely complicated.”                

                  Valkyrie sighed. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Not to mention Caelan.”

                  Tanith frowned. “... The vampire? What about him?”

                  “Nothing,” Valkyrie said quickly, and hit play on the remote.

                  “Wait a minute,” Tanith stopped her, confused, but Valkyrie shushed her as the scene started.

                  “This better not be Howard the Duck again,” Valkyrie muttered.

                  “Oh, don’t get me started on that,” Tanith muttered angrily, and Valkyrie relaxed back into the sofa with a grin.

                  It was early evening, and the weather was surprisingly nice for late January. Valkyrie had been zoning out, listening to the radio, when the car stopped.

                  A frown settled onto Valkyrie’s features as she glanced out the window… and saw Skulduggery’s house.

                  “This … isn’t Gordon’s, Tanith.”

                  “What? Oh, shit,” Tanith exclaimed, checking for yourself. “Sorry. I’m just used to coming over here. I can drive you over-”

                  “No, it’s fine, Skulduggery probably needs someone to force him to take a break from boring paperwork anyway. He can drop me off later. Or I can…”

                  “You can?”

                  Valkyrie hesitated. “I don’t know how to phrase this without sounding weird.”

                  “… That warning isn’t making it any better. Hit me.”

                  “I have a room at his house, so it’s ... not a big deal if I just stay there.”

                  “Oh, that?” Tanith asked, fishing something a pack of gum out of the center console. “I knew that.”

                  Valkyrie frowned. “What? How?”

                  “I’ve been over,” she said. “There’s a room he always keeps locked and whenever he’d pass it he’d touch the door knob. I figured it was either your room or where he kept his dead bodies.”

                  There was a long silence.

                  “… That sounded a lot less plausible in my head.”

                  “… Yes,” Valkyrie said, deciding to leave it at that.

                  “Anyway,” Tanith said quickly. “Hug.”

                  “Of course,” Valkyrie said, beaming, and scooted over and hugged her again.

                  “Don’t be a stranger,” she said, squeezing so tight it almost hurt. “Night, Val.”

                  “Night,” Valkyrie said, and slipped out of the car, feeling light on her feet for the first time in a long time.

                  Skulduggery’s steps looked the same as usual, as did the porch and the outside of the house. Everything looked the same, actually, except for some new wear and tear here and there.

                  Valkyrie jumped up the stairs, skipping a step, and knocked in the same pattern that he used to on her window.

                  He answered the door with his hat and jacket off, his sleeves rolled up. He only looked like this when he was hard at work at something.

                  She raised an eyebrow. “You know, if I had been a traveling salesman and you had answered the door like this, I would have probably screamed and or peed my pants.”

                  “Where do you think I’ve derived all my entertainment from the last few years?”

                  She rolled her eyes, and then took a step towards him and hugged him. He hesitated only a moment before pulling his arms around her, resting his head on the top of hers. He smelled even nicer than usual.

                  “You were right,” she said, softly. “That was really fun. Thank you.”

                  “When am I ever wrong?” Skulduggery asked.

                  She shifted against him, reaching for her pocket. “Hold on. I think I still have a list on my phone.”

                  He laughed, and she realized with a little fluttery sensation it was the first time she had heard it since coming home.

                  His hands found her arms, gently directing her into the house, and he closed the door behind them.

                  “So,” he said. “How was it? Did you like Aurora?”

                  “She was great,” Valkyrie answered, sitting down to take her boots off like she usually would. “We got lunch, shopped, found a girl Tanith tried to kill when she was a remnant. Lots of fun.”

                  Skulduggery tilted his head. “… And how did that work out?”

                  “Fine, weirdly enough. She was on Tanith’s team for that god killer weapons thing. She’s a … what do you call it, a magic leech?”

                  “Oh,” Skulduggery said. “Right, her. Saracen mentioned her before.”

                  “… You know,” she said. “Not really surprised he noticed the pretty blonde.”

                  “Neither am I,” he said. “Are you hungry? I think I have a few take away menus around somewhere …”

                  “No, Aurora made us dinner. Thank you, though.”

                  He shrugged, as if it to say ‘it’s nothing’.

                  She followed him into the hallway, and cocked her head to one side. “So what are you working on? A case?  Magic artifacts? New sigils?”

                  “Actually,” he said, “I was ironing.”

                  “… Seriously?”

                  “Yes. I don’t trust the dry cleaners any more after they lost one of my ties. It’s rather relaxing, actually.”

                  “You are so boring,” she said, deflating. “I was going to go up to my room, do you mind?”

                  “It is your room.”

                  “But it is your house.”

                  “Is it?” he murmured, adjusting his sleeve. “I haven’t noticed.”

                  She wasn’t sure if it was a barb directed at her forcing renovations or just him being stupid, so she elected to ignore the comment for his own safety. She watched as he returned to his boring laundry, and then darted upstairs. Her door was unlocked, and she thought of what Tanith had said and wondered when Skulduggery had unlocked it.

                  … Or Tanith had, in fact, noticed some sort of murder cave.         

                  Valkyrie dismissed the thought.

                  The room was clean, she noticed immediately. Cleaner than she had left it. Her bed was made and she couldn’t see any dust. She walked into the center and turned around slowly, taking it in. It was plainly furnished, with just the bare essentials, with photos stuck up on the wall. She couldn’t put up photos of anyone from the magical world in her room at her parents’ house, so she taken the opportunity to fix that here.

                  She frowned, noticing something on her bedside table. It was a photo of her and Skulduggery from their American adventure. It hadn’t been in a frame when she had left.

                  … Now that she thought about it, it must have been the most recent photo Skulduggery had of her.

                  Valkyrie swallowed and put it down.

                  She walked over and opened up her wardrobe, and found her old clothes as neatly folded as expected. Her jackets were hung up too, every single one she had ever had, right in a row. Some still fit. Some didn’t.

                  She took one down, held it to her. She had retired it because it smelt like bog monster, and Ghastly had made her a new one within the week.

                  Valkyrie buried her face in it, and closed her eyes, letting the memory envelop her and let herself pretend that for just one moment, Ghastly Bespoke was still alive.

                  And then that moment ended. She pulled away the jacket and put it back on the hanger. It wasn’t as bog monstery as she remembered. She had brought her newest black jacket with her to Meek Ridge, but the thought of Stephanie wearing it before her always gave her pause. Kitana had too, she realized.

                  She needed a new jacket. But she wasn’t getting one.

                  She wiped her eyes and closed the wardrobe, and let her hands rest against it for a moment before sliding them down the wood. She slipped into the bathroom, with its super fancy shower. Her toothbrush sat it in its holder, untouched. Her tube of toothpaste had been left uncapped, and had now gone completely dry.  She glanced up and caught her reflection in the mirror.

                  The smile slowly slid off her face, and she left the bathroom.

                  Her breaths were even and steady as she walked back through the house, slowly calming herself down. Soon she heard Skulduggery whistling, and her chest felt a little lighter.

                  The house was different on the inside – there was a washer and dryer, of course, and a few another changes here and there. It looked cozier, more lived in.

                  Valkyrie found herself in another living room, and perched on the edge of a sofa. There was a sort of quiet, calm feeling to her now. Not something she felt for a long, long time.

                  Content, that was it.

                  And bored.

                  There were far too many sofas in this house, she thought, fighting to find something to occupy her time. More sofas than was practical.

                  Before she was quite aware what she was doing, she had gathered the cushions from the various rooms and was stacking them up in the center of the room, and picked up the blankets from her room and the supply closets and used those, too.

                  She used to make forts when she was little. She wondered if Alice would do the same, and the thought of her baby sister sent a dull ache through her.

                  She was a half hour into her masterpiece when Skulduggery leaned against the door and tilted his head at her.

                  “What,” Skulduggery said, “are you doing?”

                  Valkyrie tucked a piece of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear and squinted at him. “I am making,” she said, slowly for effect, “a pillow fort.”

                  “I can see that.”

The sofas in the central living room had been pushed to form foundations, and she had gathered up other pillows, sheets, etcetera.

                  “Are you judging me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

                  “Yes,” he answered. There was pause. “This is not structurally sound,” he elaborated, and then kneeled, rearranging her support pillars (which consisted of cardboard boxes and brooms, mostly).

                  She rolled her eyes at him before laughing, and got back to work.

                   Valkyrie lay on her back, watching as Skulduggery directed tiny fireballs of light  towards the bed sheet ceiling.

                  “Show off,” she said, unable to fight a smile. He lay next to her, skull resting on top of her hair, spread out around her head. They wordlessly admired their hard work. Mostly it had consisted of Skulduggery making it stable and giant while she just filled it with her things and snacks, but she thought that was the most important contribution anyway.

                  “I’m going to fall asleep if I stay like this,” Valkyrie complained, and Skulduggery turned his head so he was facing her.

                  “I’m surprised you’re not asleep already.”

                  She stuck her tongue out at him. “I am – well, was – a growing girl. Naps are essential.”

                  “Of course.”

                  Valkyrie tried to sit up, but her hair was caught under his head. She swore, and he sat up as well.

                  “I’m sorry,” he said, and she shook her head, grabbing a hank of her hair and tugging.

                  “Ow,” he said, and tried to gently remove a lock of hair that had become entangled in the back of his neck.

                  She reached over, trying to help, and then saw what looked like a strange beard growing out of the back of his neck and ended up laughing so hard she couldn’t continue.

                  Skulduggery shook his head at her, and then tugged at her hair again. She was pretty sure he had pulled out more than a few strands, but she was laughing too hard to care.

                  “Here you are,” he said, formally putting the ends back into her hand.

                  “Thank you,” she said, tying it back again in a knot at the back of her head. “I really need a haircut.”

                  “I’m not sure you do, actually. You could probably use it as a weapon.”

                  “Like in Tangled?”

                  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, “but that sounds appropriate.”

                  A strand of hair fell across her face, and she watched at Skulduggery reached for her face.

                  He caught her eye, and he seemed to become suddenly aware of what he was doing. His hand slowly lowered, and he sat back, in silence, both of them keenly aware of how awkward the moment was. For a moment all she did was admire the way the firelight flickered across his skull.

                  She cleared her throat and scooted back slightly. “So,” she said, searching for something to talk about. “… Laundry.”

                  “… Laundry.”

                  “Yes,” she said. “Your exciting new hobby. Tell me all about it.”

                  “… Really?”

                  “I don’t know what else to talk about,” she complained, her shoulders drooping. “And that’s the only thing you’ve mentioned today.”

                  “Normally you wouldn’t care,” he said, sounding amused. “You’d just happily talk about yourself.”

                  “I know,” she said, solemnly. I’ve changed. Though I can tell you about everything I saw while shopping today.”

                  “Thrilling,” he said. “Hmm. Something that involves me. We can talk about all the things we missed about our clever, handsome, debonair partner.”

                  “Fine,” Valkyrie said, crossing her arms. “You go first.”

                  “… Touché.”

                  She thought of the last time she tried to talk about her feelings with him, and how he had turned around from throwing Ravel in and laughed at her, and she had been overjoyed and angry and mortified all at once.

                  She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, burying herself in. She glanced up, and caught Skulduggery watching her.

                 His voice was concerned. “Are you alright?”

                  “I’m fine,” she said, a bit too fast. “Just ….”

                  His head tilted.

                  “When I missed you,” she said quickly, before she could take the words back. “I’d listen to all the voicemails I had on my phone. I kept them all.”

                  Skulduggery didn’t say anything.

                  “The ones that were the hardest to listen to,” she said, swallowing, “were the most recent ones. When you just … asked me to pick up. Until you gave up.”

                  “I never gave up,” he said. “I just … realized you needed your time.”

                  “It was never to punish or hurt you,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

                  Skulduggery shook his head. “I knew that. You always emailed me back, even if …  even if it took three weeks.” His voice was quiet, sounding almost guilty, like he hadn’t ever wanted to inconvenience her.

                  “That wasn’t your fault,” she said adamantly. “I didn’t want to -  I didn’t want to rely on that, have that crutch of instant communication.”

                  “I know,” he said, quietly.

                  “I’m sorry.”

                  “I know,” he said again, and his voice was so gentle she wanted to wrap herself up in it and cry.

                  Instead she leaned against him, and he wrapped his arm around her, and they sat like that in silence for a while.

                  “Your turn,” she murmured.

                  “For what?”

                  “To talk about how you coped with the crippling loss of me.”

                  He made an amused noise. “Crippling? You told me you’d be back and I believed you. I managed just fine, thank you.”

                  “Oh, whatever,” Valkyrie said, fighting a smile. “Do you remember the ecard I sent you for your birthday?”

                  “With the dancing skeleton?” he asked, his voice warm. “How could I forget? Though I did not appreciate the comment that he would beat me in a … skeleton dance off, I think that was it? ”

                  “You know,” she said. “If the rumors about the American government monitoring email are true, those government agents were probably really confused.”

                  “Which is exactly why I would not send you a ‘selfie’.” She could hear the quotes just in the way he said the last word.

                  “Excuses,” she grumbled, and flopped back onto the floor.

                  He looked down at her, head tilted. “I thought you were trying not to sleep.”

                  “I was,” she said. “And then you were being all boring.”

                  He sighed, good-naturedly. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

                  That makes two of us, she thought.

                  “You know,” she said. “Xena is really good at cuddling.”

                  “Good for her,” he said.

                  She glared. “Does that not make you feel … insufficient?”

                  “… Why would it?” He asked, and she sighed.

                  “Follow,” she said, finally, giving up at attempting to be subtle.

                  “… Follow you where?”

                  “On to the floor.”

                  “…Why?”

                  “Because it’s comfortable,” she said. “… And I’m cold.”

                  “Ah,” he said, finally understanding, and joined her, pulling her into his arms again.

                  “Better?”

                  “Much,” she said. Even though the bones of his arm were ice cold. And he was just bony in general.

                  She didn’t mind.

Chapter Text

            Skulduggery wasn’t there.

            She didn’t know why she always expected him to be. Years in Meek Ridge and yet she’d still dream that it was that night when she had let her into her room when she could have disappeared at any minute. Every time she’d wake up with that familiar tune in her ears, to open her eyes and remember he was thousands of miles away and that voice was only a memory she was terrified may one day fade.

            Valkyrie groaned, feeling sore, and then realized that she wasn’t in her bed in Colorado. She was … on the floor. She opened her eyes, squinting. It was dark, with the light reaching through the sheets above her. Right, she remembered. She had made a pillow fort.

            … And Skulduggery had been there.

            And now he wasn’t.

            She frowned and tried to stand before remembering her makeshift roof, and swore, ducking down and walking through the opening in the sheets. Valkyrie stretched – she had fallen asleep fully clothed, which was just as uncomfortable as it sounded. She had tried to at least slip off her bra, but Skulduggery had tilted his head at her while she was reaching into her shirt and she very quickly abandoned that idea.

            (The worst part about a detective best friend? He noticed everything.)

            Now her own detective training set in. She looked for the clues, such as: the path of destruction leading from upstairs (her own), the demolished sofas (once again, her) and … random, alarming noises coming from the kitchen.

            Either it was a burglar, or Skulduggery Pleasant was trying to cook.

            She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smile on her face.

            “Did the poor sauce pan really deserve this?”

            “Yes,” Skulduggery said, without turning to look at her.

            “What are you even trying to accomplish?” she asked, walking forward to peer at the stove.

            “Nothing in particular,” he said. “I just wanted to allow you to impress me with your new quote unquote cooking skills. Unfortunately,” he said, “the stove appears to be possessed by a demon.”

            “I see.”

            “And now,” he said, his fingertips brushing her back just so as he walked behind her and handed the pan over to her, “it is your turn.”

            “Wait, what are we supposed to be cooking?” she said, holding the pan and frowning at … whatever was inside it.

            “I believe they are called ‘pancakes’.”

            Valkyrie laughed out loud. “You know what pancakes are, moron,” she said, and then squinted at the pan again. “… And these are not it.”

            She dumped the mess out in the trash and started over, and Skulduggery watched her with curiosity until she snapped her fingers and made him help.

            She didn’t feel like getting out any utensils (especially as they’d probably be covered in dust) so she instead just ate her breakfast from a paper napkin and dunked ripped pieces of pancake in syrup (which Skulduggery assured he had bought that morning.)

            “What was the last thing you cooked?” she asked, between mouthfuls. “When you were alive?”

            “I can’t remember,” he said. “Probably some sort of game roasted on a dying fire, surrounded by sick and dying men.”

            “… Charming.”

            He rested his chin on his hand, looking amused. “I can remember the last thing I ate, though.”

            She tilted her head. “Yeah?”

            “Cake. There was a wedding months before and we had thought the war had calmed down enough to finally celebrate, which was ... ironic, in hindsight.”

            “… A little,” Valkyrie said. “Not a bad last meal, though. You know, I think I would be okay with someone killing me after I ate cake.”

            “I wouldn’t.”

            Valkyrie grinned. “Look at you, getting all soft on me.”

            “Not in the slightest,” he protested. “I don’t want you to copy me.”

            She stuck her tongue out at him, and comfortable silence fell as she finished eating. She wiped her syrupy hands off with a fresh paper towel.

            Skulduggery stood in front of her, eye to eye socket. They were the same height thanks to her counter boost.  He had one gloved hand on the counter, fingers typing out a lazy pattern.

            Valkyrie looked directly at him. “What,” she said flatly, almost accusing.

            “… I didn’t say anything.”

            “No,” she said, “but you’re nervous. What is it?”

            “I’m not nervous,” he said, voice perfectly calm.

            She rolled her eyes. “It’s been eleven and a half years, Skulduggery. I know when you’re working up to telling me something. Spit it out.”

            He inhaled, but before he could say anything, she heard her phone in the other room.

            “Hold on,” she said, jumping off the counter. “I’ll be right back. Don’t think this means you’re off the hook.”

            She returned, as promised, a few minutes later, a frown on her face.

            “Who was it?” Skulduggery asked, dropping the pan he was washing in the warm water.

            “Mum. She wanted to ask me if I was coming to Alice’s birthday party.”

            “Ah,” he said. “Forgot about that.”

            “Yeah,” Valkyrie said, shaking her head. “It’s in less than two weeks. She’s going to be seven. Mum said she’s inviting all her friends.” She shook her head. “She’s six. How does she have friends?”

            “… Most six years old do.”

            “Nuh uh,” Valkyrie said vehemently. “Everyone hated me when I was six.”

            “…Well,” he said, and she thrust a finger where his lips should be.

            “Don’t even start,” she said, voice low, and he put his hands up in surrender. “I bet you didn’t have friends either.”

            “I had lots of friends,” Skulduggery said, grabbing her wrist and gently returning her arm to her side. “They made fun of my stutter and tried to have me burned at stake for being a devil child.”

            “… I think those were bullies, Skulduggery.”

            “Nonsense. They were some of the closest friends I ever knew.”

            She snorted. “Then I guess all the times I’ve wanted to kill you makes me the greatest friend you’ve ever had.”

            He tilted his head. “You say that like it’s a matter up for debate.”

            A smile crept across her face. “You think we would have gotten on? If we knew each other as kids?”

            “… You would have terrified me.”

            “And rightfully so,” Valkyrie said, nodding. “Actually, now that I think about it, tiny me would have loved that. A minion who would listen and obey my every word. And nearly silent.”

            “… This,” he said, “is the first time I’ve been thankful you’re so much younger than me.”

            Valkyrie’s brow creased. “… And what’s that supposed to mean?”

            His head jerked back slightly. “… Nothing. What else about Alice’s birthday?”

            “Oh. She wants to have it at Gordon’s mansion. I think that’s why she called.”

            Skulduggery head tilted. “I think she wants her oldest daughter to be at a family gathering, first and foremost.”

            Valkyrie chewed her lip. “Yeah. Maybe.”   

            “Valkyrie…”

            “I told her I was going to think about it,” she said. “Don’t give me that look, I know. It’s just …”

            “I understand,” said Skulduggery. “But I wish you didn’t feel that way.”

            She shifted awkwardly, and then narrowed his eyes at him. “I haven’t forgotten about you acting weird. Spill.”

            He quietly pulled out a chair for her, and she sat, crossing her legs and arms, and waited for him to sit as well.

            He sat in the chair backwards, his arms crossed over the back. “I wanted to ask you about your magic,” he said, cautiously.

            “Oh.” She felt a mangled bunch of emotions, none of them particularly happy.

            “You hadn’t mentioned it once these past few weeks, so I didn’t want to … impose, or anything, but…”

            “I know.” Her arms tightened around her. “But you had to ask anyway.”

            His head tilted. “I’m sorry.”

            Valkyrie shook her head. “No, don’t. I just have … I didn’t use my magic at all until those freaks went after me and Danny. I don’t know any more about it than I did when I left.”

            “Do you want to?”

            “Of course,” she said, frowning. “But it ... it wasn’t the right time then. Exile isn’t really a great time to practice your new light show abilities.”

            Skulduggery began to speak, and she cut him off.

            “… And yes, I know you only needed eleven months with the Faceless Ones to learn to fly or whatever. Not everyone can be Skulduggery Pleasant.”

            “You’re pretty damn close,” Skulduggery said.

            She scoffed. “Oh, in some categories you’re not even in the running, Pleasant. But for magic? Argeddion’s dead. So’s Mevolent, at least here. And Darquesse is … whatever. Which makes you the most powerful mage I’m aware of.”

            “You will be amazed by how many incredibly powerful sorcerers live alone in dark murky caves.”

            She squinted at him. “You’re not taking praise. What’s wrong with you? Are you sick? Can skeletons get sick?”

            “Not as far as I’m aware,” Skulduggery said, sounding amused. “But I’m hesitant to take it when at least half the credit would go to Vile.”

            “… Right,” Valkyrie said, knowing the feeling. “And that … is still completely secret, right?”

            “Of course,” Skulduggery said. “… Is there any reason it wouldn’t be?”

            “China knows,” Valkyrie said. “Somehow. I don’t know.”

            She couldn’t tell from Skulduggery’s stillness whether or not he already knew this.

            “If you want to start practicing,” Skulduggery said, “there really is no time like the present.”

            Valkyrie sighed. “Let me shower first.”

            Valkyrie grabbed the towel from the toilet seat where she left it, and rubbed it over her hair. And then she thought. She pulled the towel around her.

            “Skulduggery,” she called. “Hey. Skulduggery. Skulduggery.”  

            She sighed, and then shouted his name.

            Not even a second later she heard him running up the stairs, and she stood in the bathroom doorway.

            “Valkyrie,” he said, sounding like he would be panting if he had to breathe. “Are you … oh. Really?”

            “Yes, really.”

            “You should be able to do this by…” he trailed off, remembering. “Oh. Right.”

            “Yeah, ‘oh, right’. Hat over your eyes.”

            He shifted awkwardly. “You’re a grown woman-”

            “What, but it was okay when I was sixteen?”

            Skulduggery hesitated. “You – it’s-”

            “I will throw the towel at your head.”

            Skulduggery stared her down. “You wouldn’t.”

            “Five,” she said, slowly. “Four … three …”

            The hat was in front of his skull, the other hand outstretched and the water starting to drift away from her body.

                  “I forgot how convenient this was,” Valkyrie said, dropping the towel to comb through her hair to get as much water into the air as possible. “Thank you.”

            He made an annoyed, slightly strained noise in response, and she smirked. She picked up the towel and wrapped it back around herself.

            “Safe to look,” she said, and Skulduggery replaced his hat.

            “Honestly,” he said. “One day you will be married with your own house. You can’t force an elemental to be your magical towel forever.”

            “Unless I marry one,” Valkyrie said, slipping back into her bedroom, and then froze, realizing what she had just said.

            Her only answer from the other side of the door was silence. She waited a long moment, swallowed hard, and then dressed in her old black clothes.

            Skulduggery parked the Bentley at a park that looked like it had seen better days. It had a few trees, and a creepy, rusting playground. It felt deserted, and she hadn’t seen another car in a good twenty minutes. She didn’t know why Skulduggery had the address to a creepy abandoned park on hand. She didn’t ask.

            Skulduggery slipped out and she followed, feeling her confusion grow. She followed him past the playground and a half empty sandbox. He stopped, suddenly, and pointed.

            “Do you know what kind of trees these are?” Skulduggery asked.

            “… Green ones?”

            He gave her a look. “They’re oak trees. They attract electricity more than an species of tree.”

            “Oh,” Valkyrie said, finally getting it. She looked down at her hands. “So you just want me to try to hit one?”

            “Not exactly.” He put his hat on top of the monkey bars and took a few steps back, until he was standing a few metres away from the closest tree. “I want you to aim at me.”

            Valkyrie stared at him. “… My god, you’ve finally lost it.”

            “Not yet. I’m curious to know how much your magic works like real electricity, and if it will be conducted towards the tree instead of me.”

            “And if it isn’t? Skulduggery, I could actually hurt you.”

            “I’ll be fine,” he said, dismissively. “Besides,” he said. “This will be fun.”

            Valkyrie glared at him for long a moment, and then chewed her lip, thinking it over. “Fine.”

            Valkyrie shifted her stance, letting her boots dig into the mud, making herself as solid as possible. She remembered being taught in school once that she was supposed to crouch and make herself as small of a target as possible if caught in a lighting storm. It was a different story when she was the lightning storm.

            Valkyrie sucked in a deep breath and flexed her hand, and soon the white electricity was dancing between her fingers. Valkyrie let out the breath she was holding, and shot her hand out, aiming slightly to the left of Skulduggery.

            Her magic was bright even on an overcast day, and the light that came from her was brilliant and difficult to look at. It shot across for a moment, and time seemed to slow – and then her magic hit Skulduggery in the arm. He spun back slightly, and fell to the ground.

            He didn’t move.

            A horrified noise wrenched itself out of Valkyrie’s throat. For a second she was frozen solid, and then she regained her senses and ran towards him. She dropped on her knees into the muddy grass, and grabbed him by his shoulders.

            “Skulduggery, no, no, no, come on, you stupid skeleton, please …” She put an ear to his chest, but of course he didn’t have a heart beat, or a pulse, or anything to signify she hadn’t just killed him. His skull was lulled back, but he hadn’t fallen apart. He fell apart when he died, she remembered. So he was fine. He had to be fine.

            She was having difficulty breathing, the same way she would when she was having a claustrophobia attack. “Please,” she said, feeling herself starting to hyperventilate. “Please just say something.”

            She had seen this too many times before - with Melancholia, in the visions, even when she had found him in the Faceless Ones’ dimension. But all she could think of when he was never in any real danger – when he was walking towards the accelerator, and she thought it really was goodbye.

            She could still feel her magic surging around her, driven haywire by her erratic emotions. A stray spark passed from her hand to him, and a moment later, his head snapped back up. He winced, rolling out his shoulders.

            “Well,” Skulduggery said. “That was fun.”

            “Oh my god,” Valkyrie wheezed, throwing her arms around him. “Oh my god, never do that again.”

            Skulduggery’s hand was on her back, and he let her cling to him and attempt to regain her breathing before he said anything.

            When he did speak, his voice was gentle. “Valkyrie,” he said. “I’m fine. Are – are you okay?”

            She rubbed her face dry on her sleeve before she pulled back, and forced a smile. “I’m fine,” she said. “Sorry. Must be hormonal.”

            His head tilted. “Valkyrie, if you want to talk …”

            “If you want to talk about PMS, be my guest,” she said, keeping an easy tone. “But seriously, I’m fine. Just ... no more target practice today.”

            “... Deal,” he said, sounding like he wanted to pry but knew he’d get nowhere with it.

            Something bony was digging into her leg, and she glanced down, and realized she had been straddling him. Her face went hot, and she swung her leg off him and scooted back slightly. Skulduggery sat up without saying anything.

            “Let’s try something easier,” she said. “I told you that I was able to see magic during the fight with Darquesse, right?”

            He nodded.

            “So,” she said. “Let’s try that.”

            They sat on the old swing set, and Valkyrie held one of the chains with both hands, staring very hard at Skulduggery, who sat very still.

            They had been sitting like this for almost half an hour. It was boring, to say the least. … But it was better than target practice.

            “Any luck yet?” Skulduggery asked. He had recovered his hat before they sat down, and was adjusting it now.

            She shook her head. “But I can do it. If I could do once on accident, I can do it now.”

            He shifted back slightly, swinging forward. “We have all the time in the world, Valkyrie. We can try-“

            “Wait.” Her eyes widened. “You went all … purple-y for a second. Keep talking.”

            She could feel him frown, but then he started rattling off what had happened in the last Sanctuary meeting. She could see little flickers, but nothing stuck.

            “Stop,” she said. “You sound miserable and bored. And I keep losing what little I get when you stop talking.”

            “I’m … not exactly sure what I’m supposed to be doing.”

            “I know,” she said, groaning. “I’m thinking.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Maybe you could sing?”

            It was amazing how wry a skeleton could look. “That sounds awfully like an excuse for me to sing to you.”

            “Do you have any better ideas?” He was quiet, so she pushed on ahead. “Sing for me, my angel of music.”

            “And what exactly would I sing?”

            “Old Man River,” Valkyrie answered, immediately. “I don’t care. Just sing.”

            He sighed, and went silent, and she realized he wasn’t going to do anything. She opened her mouth to put together some sort of apology – she knew how much he hated singing for people - and then in a voice even softer than she remembered, he began to sing Ain’t No Sunshine.

            She sat back on her swing, letting herself get lost in his voice. She ignored the lyrics, instead focusing on the timbre and power of his voice, with nothing – and no one else - there to distract her.

            The color faded in around him, gradually at first, and then quickly getting brighter and brighter. She could at first see the brilliant red she remembered, almost painful to look at. She concentrated, and then it was joined by other colors, until it was a full spectrum.

            The last time she had seen his aura, it was after Darquesse had fought the jitter girls.

            Skulduggery started to reach the end of the song, and caught her eye. She gave him a nod, and he immediately launched into Old Man River, and Valkyrie nearly laughed out loud.

            Near his arm – where she had hit him – was a patch of pale, sickly yellow. It reached around him with thin, spidery like strands, but it was brightest and strongest at his arm. She reached out, and the suddenly aura dispersed.

            “Damn it,” she said, and Skulduggery stopped singing.

            “Did it work?”

            “For a minute or two,” she said. “I saw your aura. All of it.”

            “Scandalous.”

            She bit down a smile. “Yeah, well. The last time I did that, I was … I was Darquesse.”

            “Oh,” he said. “… Well. That is interesting.”

            “This changes everything,” she said. “I thought this power was new, or something I had deep down and never accessed, but – this means that it was something I always had, that Darquesse didn’t take from me.”

            “Or couldn’t.”

            She nodded, and then glanced him over. “How much does your arm hurt?”

            “It doesn’t,” Skulduggery said. Valkyrie aimed a punch at his arm, and he hissed.

            “That’s what I thought,” she said. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

            “It was my bad idea,” he said. “Which means it wasn’t that bad. And certainly not your fault.”

            “Skulduggery –“

            “Don’t worry about me.” He sat up from the swing. “We can go by the Sanctuary, run a few tests. See if anyone knows anything about auras.”

            The idea of going to the Sanctuary made her stomach churn, but she stood up as well. “Only if you let Synecdoche look at your arm.”

            They stared each other down.        

            “Fine,” Skulduggery said, at last.

            “And I want to go to a drive through.”

            “In my car? Absolutely not,” Skulduggery protested, and Valkyrie grinned.

             The Sanctuary was nearly unrecognizable. There was a distinct China Sorrows touch to it, on every surface and in every corner. What she thought was pattern wallpaper on some of the walls was really intricate lines of sigils, from ceiling to floor. Elegance and grace had transformed the once drab building – but something about it was cold, too.

            Which was appropriate, when she thought about it.

            They parked at the back, and he caught her confusion.

            “You’re the Artist Formerly Known as Darquesse,” he explained. “I thought you might want to avoid any crowds.”

            “Oh,” she said. “Right.”

            The thought sunk a weight deep into her stomach as they walked inside. She thought of Jeremiah and Mr. Gant, and how she didn’t even know why they came after her, or if those had even been their real names. She wondered if there were more of them out there. Waiting for her to return to Europe.

            Not a pleasant thought.

            They slipped into the medical wing, where Synecdoche was doting over a lanky man sprawled across a hospital bed. She turned, nodded to Skulduggery, and then did a double take.

            “Valkyrie,” she said, her tone all pleasant surprise. “It’s lovely to see you again. Though less lovely when I imagine it involves an injury.”

            “Not mine this time,” Valkyrie said, and pointed a thumb at Skulduggery.

            Synecdoche frowned. “That’s … rare. What happened?”

            “She electrocuted me,” he said, brightly.

            Valkyrie bristled. “Because you told me to.”

            Synecdoche gave them a both a smile. “I’ll fix him up for you,” she said, “Though I’m afraid the stubbornness can’t be cured.”

            “People have tried,” Valkyrie said, with a sigh. She settled down on another bed, content to watch Skulduggery get fussed over.

            She was sitting back, reading something on her phone, when the doors burst open and China marched in. Her elder robes were a beautiful midnight blue, and more fitted and suited to her than the ones on Ghastly or Ravel had been.

            “So the rumors are true,” she said, looking at Valkyrie, with far more warmth than usual. She looked over at Skulduggery. “And just how long have you been hiding her from me?”

            “Two weeks,” Skulduggery said, not in any way affected by her tone.

            China clicked her tongue in disapproval, and walked over to Valkyrie’s bed, who stood to greet her.
            “I feel like I should curtsey,” she said. “Seeing as you’re not one for hugs.”

            China raised an eyebrow. “Do you know how to curtsey?”

            “… Not really, no.”

            China sighed. “Then I’ll make an exception just this once.”

            Valkyrie grinned and hugged her, careful not to overdo it.

            “Welcome back, my dear,” she said. “Glad to have my only competent detective back in service.”

            Valkyrie bit her tongue to hide a grimace. “Of course.”

            China gave Skulduggery another glance, as if she had only just remembered he was there. She saw the doctor applying some sort of cream to his arm, and her mouth twisted into a sly smile.

            “Valkyrie can read auras,” Skulduggery said, tilting his head from around Synecdoche to look at them. “Or at least mine. We were wondering if you had any experts – or any books – on the subject.”

            China tapped a finger to her cheek, her nail polish a deep, elegant color. “I believe I have both. Follow me.”

            Skulduggery started to stand and then was stopped by Synecdoche forcefully dragging him back down. He sulked as she wrapped a bandage around him arm, and Valkyrie watched, amused, as she huffily rolled back down his shirt sleeve and replaced his suit jacket.

            “There we go,” the doctor said.  “That wasn’t that hard. Would you like a lollipop?”

            Skulduggery ignored her (as well as Valkyrie’s delighted laughter), and China led them out of the medical wing.

            There were people in the hall. Valkyrie stiffened, but they only offered her smiles and “welcome backs”. Interns, apprentices, all with pleasant expressions like they were glad she was home.           

            It … was a nice surprise.

            China walked like she owned the place. (Which, now that Valkyrie thought about it, she technically did.) She led them into a section she wasn’t entirely familiar with – she thought it was a storage back when Ravel still was in charge – and they stood in front of two large oak doors.

            China raised a hand, and two massive sigils began to shine a brilliant blue. The doors opened …

            … And they walked into an enormous library, shelves upon shelves in every direction. It looked like it literally went on forever – books as far as the eyes could see.

            “China,” Valkyrie said, breathlessly. “This is amazing.”

            “We all have our hobbies,” China said. Skulduggery hadn’t spoken for a while (she wasn’t surprised – he told her once he stayed quiet around China because it quieted violent urges) but he turned his head to look at her.

            “You have books on auras, then.”

            “Of course,” she said. “Dozens. But only the very best for my favorite.” She smiled. “Follow me.”

            “I’ll stay here,” Valkyrie said. “Look around a bit.”

            China nodded, though she could see Skulduggery was less happy about it. She gave him a tiny wave, and started wandering through the aisles.

            The scale reminded her of China’s library when she had first seen it – when she was a lot younger. And shorter. It was grandiose and impressive in a way she wasn’t used to things being – and it reminded her of those early days, when everything had seemed like a grand adventure.

            Valkyrie browsed through a shelf, every title seemingly written in a unique language she had never seen before.

            “Well,” a man’s voice said, interrupting her. “Look who’s back.”

            Valkyrie spun around, and came face to face with a man whose face she barely recognized. His name was something boring, something mortal sounding. She couldn’t remember what it was.

            “Been a long time, hasn’t it? Four, five years?” His voice was low and saccharine.

            “I’m glad you can count,” Valkyrie retorted, walking around one of the shelf ladders.

            “Ouch,” he said, with a little laugh. “You certainly haven’t lost your bite.”

            Alan, she thought. Alan Blythe, that was it. He was a Roarhaven mage. Worked some boring little job in Sanctuary. He had been on their side for every minute during the war. She had thought he was a decent enough guy.          

            Apparently not.

            “Amazed they actually let you into the country,” he said, starting to circle her. “If I’m honest. Aren’t American airports strict about weapons? Bombs, and the like? Funny how they had no problem with you.”

            “You,” Valkyrie said, “certainly think you’re clever.”

            Blythe shrugged. “Oh, miss Cain. I’m sure your barbs have given you a lot of comfort in the past,” he said, reaching behind her to straighten out one of the books. “But it’s not working the way it usually would, is it? Hitting a little too close to home?”

            “Seriously,” Valkyrie replied. “Don’t you have something better to do? Have you just been quietly reading up on me? That’s a little creepy.”

            “I bet you think about it a lot,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Those people you hurt. The people you killed. Your reflection was one of them, wasn’t it? Darquesse offed that one after you split. Bet you wish you could have been there. Bet you wished you stopped it.”

            Valkyrie grit her teeth. “You wanna stop while you’re ahead?”

            “Au contraire,” he replied. “I’m just getting started. I’ve heard rumors, you know. That your family was there, during the fights. That you couldn’t even keep them out of it. That you put them in danger as well. And you weren’t even her anymore. Funny. Guess it was always a part of you.”

            White light licked at Valkyrie’s arms. “Stop. Talking.”

            “You little monster-“

            Valkyrie reached out a hand to blast Blythe for all he was worth, but before she could he slammed violently into one of the shelves, nearly knocking it over. She blinked, stunned, and then saw Skulduggery calmly walking towards him.

            The detective kneeled down, spoke into Blythe’s ear. His response was a hiss, and the next thing she knew Skulduggery had slammed his head into the library floor. The rest of the patrons in the library scattered, as if afraid they’d be next.

            “Skulduggery,” she said, finally finding her voice. She thought she had been too quiet, but Skulduggery turned, met her eye.

            There was a moment of silence, and then he dropped Blythe, left him in a pile of books. He groaned, tried to sat up but couldn’t.

            Valkyrie didn’t say anything, just looked at the blood starting to drip from just above Blythe’s ear.

            She heard China’s heels before she saw her.  She turned the corner, holding a thin leather book in one hand, and observed Blythe.

            Blythe attempted to sit up once again, this time successfully. He pointed a shaking figure at Skulduggery. “He attacked me,” he accused.

            Skulduggery didn’t argue.

            “And?” China said, striding over to hand Valkyrie the book. She took it with numb fingers.

            “Grand Mage,” he said, sounding horrified. “Aren’t you going to do something? Did you see what he did?”

            “Clean up the mess you’ve made, Mr. Blythe,” China said calmly, and walked away without another word.

            Skulduggery looked at the man, and before he could say something, Valkyrie walked out of the library. She didn’t even look at the book, just quietly placed it on a random shelf. After a moment, Skulduggery followed.

            They walked through the halls in silence, going the way in which they came. People tried to get Valkyrie’s attention, and she ignored them. They reached the back, came out where the Bentley was parked.

            She opened the passenger seat door, but Skulduggery grabbed it, stopping her.

            “I’m sorry,” he said. “If I scared you.”

            “You didn’t scare me.”

            “Valkyrie …”

            “No,” she said. “It wasn’t you. That was the first ordinary mage I’ve met since I’ve come back. I couldn’t even remember his name. He hated me.”

            “He’s one person.”

            “Really?” Valkyrie said. “You think he’s the only person who hates me? The only person who wants to hurt me?”

            His voice dipped into concern. “I won’t let them.”

            “It’s not your job to protect me, Skulduggery,” she said. “You’re not even my teacher anymore. We don’t even understand what my magic is. You can’t teach me anything.”

            Skulduggery took a step back, and she immediately regretted it.

            “I didn’t mean that-” she started, and he shook his head.

            “No, you’re right. I can’t. Tanith told you she wanted to teach you to fight again, didn’t she?”

            She nodded.

            “Right,” he said. “So you’re right. I’m not your teacher anymore. Doesn’t mean a damn thing when it comes to wanting to keep you safe.”

            Valkyrie looked at him. “I should be able to keep myself safe.”

            “… And you can,” Skulduggery said, surprised. “That’s not what I-”

            She shook her head. “You know that I’m not who I was eleven years ago. Back then, back when I learned elemental magic, I was trying to be just like you. I wanted to be you. Smart and funny and powerful and in control.”

            Skulduggery didn’t speak, didn’t move.

            “When I learned necromancy from Wreath,” she continued. “I thought I was becoming my own person. Less and less like you. I thought I was growing up, becoming independent. Getting out of your shadow.”

            “… And yet we became more similar than ever as a result,” Skulduggery finished.

            She gave a sad shaky laugh. “Funny how that works.”

            Her gaze fell to her knees, and she swallowed before continuing. “But now I don’t even know what I am – and I’ve spent five years out of your orbit, out of our routine. We’ve been pretending like it’s all normal again, but it isn’t. I know you’ve felt those awkward pauses, or noticed how everything seems okay until I screw it up. What if we’re just on borrowed time? What if this – this whole thing, us being partners, Pleasant and Cain – is coming to a close?” Her voice had gotten lower and quieter, until it was almost a croak and she was barely fighting back her tears.

            Skulduggery looked at her for a long time before speaking. “Have you … have you been thinking this since you came back?”

            She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

            He looked at her, and she could see every thought across his skull as clearly as she would anyone else. More, she realized. She could read Skulduggery Pleasant better than she could any human face. She could feel his sorrow, his sympathy, his pain.

            He slowly pulled her into his arms, and she felt the impression of his fake skin against her head as his façade turned on. He placed a kiss against her hair – so softly she thought she might have imagined it – and then felt the cool hardness of his skull against her once more.

            “I told you,” he said, once she had started breathing more easily. “You’ll never lose me.”

            “Even if I can’t do this any more?”

            He nodded. “We don’t have to be detectives,” he said. “We can open a flower shop.”

            She laughed into his chest. “You don’t get to punch people at a flower shop.”

            “Clearly you’re not going to the right ones.”

            “I’m sure debs season is brutal.”

            “That’s what we’ve been training for all these years,” he said. “Fighting off teenage girls who are extremely picky about corsages.”

            She grinned. “Okay. We’ve got a back up plan, then.”

            “It doesn’t have all have to be ‘end of the world alternate dimension’ adventures,” he said. “Actually,” he said, “Some down time would be nice. I still haven’t told you about the zombie unicorn incident last year.”

            “You’re kidding.”

            “I really, really wish I was.” He hesitated a moment, and then spoke. “When you were gone I picked up every case I could. Solved every disappearance, every murder, hunted down every world destroyer. I was looking for anything to distract me from … from not having you. I’ve had more than enough of world saving and detecting.”

            Valkyrie gave him a sad smile. “But that’s who you are,” she said. “I can’t take that away from you. You are a detective and savior of worlds.”

            “And so are you,” he said, taking her hand. “Even if you might not feel like it right now. I’ve known you for over a decade, Valkyrie – this is part of you just as much as it’s part of me. Your magic changing doesn’t mean that’s any different. You need time to recover, to be yourself again. And you can take all the time in the world. And you know,” he said, thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually taken a vacation. I deserve it.” He nodded. “Yes. Until you’re back up to speed, I’m officially off work.”

            She gave him a look. “You’re going to get really, really bored, you know that, right?”

            “I do,” Skulduggery said, solemnly. “Boredom strengthens the mind. Or ... something.”

            “… I guess that’s settled, then,” she said. “And if that’s the case…” she spoke slowly. “Will you come with me to Alice’s birthday party?”

            “Of course,” he said, without hesitation.

            “You promise?” Valkyrie asked.

            “I promise.”

            “Good,” Valkyrie said. “Because there’s going to be a clown and I don’t want to go through that alone.”

            Skulduggery physically recoiled, and Valkyrie laughed.

Chapter Text

            “Have you died?” Valkyrie called up stairs, loosening and buckling the strap on her heel again.

            “Not today, no.”

            “So what’s taking so long?”

            She heard an over pronounced sigh from upstairs. “I waited hours for you to get ready. You can wait five more minutes.”

            Valkyrie made a face. “You waited years for me, technically.”

            There was a short pause. “Yes,” he said, sounding slightly surprised she had acknowledged it. “… Which is all the more reason that you can stand to be patient.”

            Valkyrie sighed and crossed her legs, and then waited some more. It was nearly six, and she had wanted to get to the house before the party had started – mostly because half of her had just wanted to drop off her gift and leave. Skulduggery, of course, had immediately told her it was a bad idea. Maybe that was why he was taking so long. She checked her phone, groaned at the time, and decided she could no longer bear it.

            She headed up one of the stairs, ready to just drag Skulduggery out of his room, when he slipped through the door, adjusting his tie.

            “Oh,” she said, very quietly.

            He was dressed impeccably – no surprise there, but that wasn’t what surprised her. His façade was on, dark hair and sharp features, and that face was … It was -

            Hot. It was unfairly hot. Aggravatingly hot.

            She didn’t let herself gawk for longer than a second, immediately switching over to a glare. “I can’t believe you.”

            “I have no idea what you could possibly mean,” he said, his expression playfully innocent.

            She chewed on her lip, refusing to even allow him a moment to hold this over her. “Let me guess,” she said, fake contemplative. “You’ve been spending the last hour shuffling through facades until you found one you deemed attractive enough.”

            Skulduggery stopped short, at a loss for words.

            “Knew it,” she said, grinning, and she looped her arm through his. “You’re so predictable.”

            “And handsome,” he muttered, sounding wounded.

            “I didn’t say otherwise,” she said, and recovered her coat from the coat rack.

            He still looked slightly wounded as he helped her put it on. “You look lovely, by the way.”

            She was wearing a dark green dress, about knee length. She gave a little half spin, the skirt flaring out slightly.

            “Does it even need to be said?”

            “Not at all,” he said, opening for the door for her, and she slipped under his arm.  “But you would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

            She grinned. “That is only mostly true.”

            As they walked outside, he grimaced at the bright orange car.

            He caught her eye, expression cautious. “Your driving has improved over the last five years, I hope?”

            “Oh, shut up,” Valkyrie said. “You’re the one who drives a million miles over the speed limit.”

            “In a car chase, Valkyrie. The last time I was in the car with you, you asked me – and this is an exact quote – “Do you want to see me out run that police car?”

            “I didn’t do it.”

            He sighed, and opened the driver’s seat door for her. She slipped in, waited for him to come in from the other side.

            The car ride went smoothly, aside from Skulduggery rather overdramatically clinging onto the grab handle for half the ride, but she was pretty sure he was only doing it to be annoying.

            There was a surprising amount of cars parked out front, and Valkyrie almost wondered if she had driven to the wrong mansion. She parked the car and found she couldn’t make herself get out - she sat there, not moving, one hand still gripping the wheel tightly.

            Her parents had a handful close friends that had been around her whole life (there were women her mother knew since university who were practically aunts to Valkyrie) but that had always been it. Her mum and dad kept close to a small group of people – not huge crowds like this.

            Valkyrie wasn’t sure what bothered her more – yet another massive change in her family’s life, or the fact she was now going to be facing at least a dozen strangers.

            Like he had read her mind, Skulduggery’s hand found hers on the gearshift, and she looked at him, grateful for the comfort. (And even more grateful that over the past month and a half she had become far less twitchy about it.)

            “Well,” he said, “I presumed you mostly brought me here so we could mock the other guests, anyway.”

            Valkyrie laughed, and let go of the wheel. “You think I value you so little?”

            “No,” he said. “I think you value me quite highly for my aptitude for ridicule. As you should.”

            “Skulduggery Pleasant, professional prankster.”

            “It has a nice ring to it.”

            “Trying to figure out alternatives to being a detective?”

            He nodded. “You know,” he said. “Ghastly taught me to crochet.”

            “You could open a store.”

            “On Etsy.”

            She covered her mouth, fighting back a laugh. “Perfect. Make me a scarf for Christmas,” she demanded.

            “Christmas was two months ago,” he said, gently, and she realized she had actually forgotten. She dismissed the thought, not wanting to let it ruin the moment.

            “Doesn’t matter. I don’t even want the scarf. I just want the experience of watching you crochet.”

            “Deal,” Skulduggery said, his fake eyes full of mirth, and she felt another spasm of irritation with him. It was worse than the one on her birthday. Damn him.

            She realized he had said something while she had been spacing out, and she snapped to attention. “Sorry, what?”

            “Are you ready?”

            “As I’ll ever be,” she said, letting go of his hand. She unlocked the door and pushed it open with a kick. She slid out, rearranging the layers of her dress, and made a face at Skulduggery when she caught him staring at her in open amusement. Recovering Alice’s wrapped gift from the floor, she slammed the door closed with her hip. Skulduggery, on the other side, shut his simply with a single gloved hand. She came over to him, comfortable in her cute but practical heels, and they walked down the mansion’s walkway together.

            She wanted to loop her arm through his – as a joke, or as some sort of anchor – but the thought of random strangers making assumptions about her made her stop short. It was bad enough in the Sanctuary – worse when she was the mysterious older daughter making an appearance after five years.

            At least Skulduggery was hot. (Tonight, she corrected, mentally. He was hot … tonight. Yeah.) Her arm fidgeted at her side as they approached the door, like a weird twitchy eel out of water. And then she felt his hand on her shoulder – a simple, gentle squeeze.

            “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, and then before she could stop him, he knocked on the door.

            It was strange to knock on her own door, she mused. She could get her keys and walk right in – or slip through the back, unnoticed. That would be nice.

            The door opened, bringing in light and the smell of something cooking, and she saw both of her parents’ smiling faces at once.

            “It’s so good to see you,” Melissa said, giving her a tight hug, and Valkyrie let herself melt into the embrace as her mother ushered her inside. She gave Skulduggery a confused look over, before realization dawned on her face.

            Desmond, however, remained puzzled. “Stephanie,” he said, slowly. “What did I say about bringing mysterious strange men into the house?”

            “Not after 3pm?” Valkyrie suggested.

            “It’s the usual mystery man, I’m afraid,” Skulduggery said, and Desmond let out a yelp of surprise.

            “My God,” he said. “You are going to have to teach me how you do that. I could use a facelift.”

            Melissa gave her husband’s cheek a squeeze. “Maybe a little one.”

            Valkyrie made the usual grossed out face at this display, but most of her was glad – glad her parents were as weird and dopey as they had always been, and glad they seemed to be treating her as they used to.

            “Your sister is with her friends,” Melissa said. “Put your present on the blue plastic table in the ballroom – dinner’s in half an hour. Thank you again for letting us use the house.”

            “My pleasure,” Valkyrie said, and on impulse leaned forward and kissed her mother on the cheek. Melissa smiled at her, bright and warm, and she felt the weight on her heart lessen significantly.

            They made their way to the ballroom, and Valkyrie made a point of making sure she was in the opposite corner from the clown. There were kids sitting around on the floor, laughing and yelling and drawing with big sheets of butcher paper, and Valkyrie had to blink for a moment to take it all in.

            “I know,” Skulduggery said, right by her ear. “Quite the opposite of the requiem ball. I think I preferred the thugs.”

            A smile tugged on the edge of her mouth, but she wasn’t thinking about that – and he must have realized that. A lot of dead people on this floor, she thought. She saw her little sister, hair tied with cute little ribbons, cutting through paper, and wondered what it was going to take to keep her out of harm’s way.

            “Don’t look now,” Skulduggery said, voice dislodging her from her thoughts, “but the clown’s on your left.”

            Valkyrie jumped and tried to stay calm at the same time, which ended up in a weird arm flailing thing, and then tried to discreetly glance out of the corner of her eye, and caught sight of  … nothing.

            She double checked, and found the clown still doing his creepy balloon animal thing at the far side of the ballroom.

            “You’re awful,” she said, and he just gave her an innocent look. Not for the first time she wondered if he had someone managed to add mind reading to his bag of tricks – or if he just knew her that well at this point.

            “Stephanie!”

            Valkyrie turned around, and was immediately enveloped in a pair of squishy but strong arms. It wasn’t until she smelt the perfume that the identity of her capturer finally clicked.

            “Aunt Beryl,” she choked out, and her aunt loosened her grip slightly.

            “Oh, Stephanie,” she said, and Valkyrie realized she was on the verge of tears. “It’s been so long. With you gone and the twins working all the time –“ she sniffed. “It was terrible.”

            “Well,” she said, “I’m … I’m back now. And I hope to – I’d like to see the twins too.”

            “And they want to see you! Carol has been trying to get your number for over a year now – says she’s been dying to talk to you. I’m just glad you girls have always gotten along so well.”

            Valkyrie blinked, overwhelmed. “Right.”

            Beryl pulled her back a fraction, and then went up on her tiptoes, peeking over her shoulder - where Skulduggery was standing patiently.

            “And who might this be?” Beryl asked, trying her very best to sound innocent.

            Valkyrie peeled her aunt’s arms off her and turned to Skulduggery, Skulduggery, who shrugged. Valkyrie pulled a strand of hair behind her ear, thinking. Her aunt was a gossip. She would think of a million different bizarre explanations for why Valkyrie had a strange man in his thirties with her – she figured the truth couldn’t be any worse.

            “This is Skulduggery,” she said. “Skulduggery Pleasant. You met once before.”

            “It’s a pleasure,” Skulduggery said, sounding like he might have actually meant it.

            Beryl’s eyes widened the sides of dinner plates. “You – you were the one who dressed like the invisible man. With the giant sunglasses? Oh my god,” she said, dropping her voice into something that was meant to be whisper meant for Valkyrie but was probably heard by the entire ballroom. “I didn’t know he was … attractive. I had always thought he had been horribly disfigured.”

            “Oh,” Valkyrie said, practically feeling the ego radiating off Skulduggery. “He was. Plastic surgery does wonders.”

            “I knew it,” Beryl whispered, and Valkyrie watched, vastly entertained, as Skulduggery’s ego deflated like a balloon. Beryl scooted past to her niece and towards Skulduggery, and launched into some inane conversation with him about her friend who had considerable misfortune with a plastic surgeon. Valkyrie grinned. Not an exchange she ever imagined happening.

            She turned back to her uncle, almost having forgotten he was there. Fergus was still sitting, watching this whole conversation in silence. She used to think her uncle’s frequent silence was snobbery, or even stupidity – but she realized now he used those moments when his wife spoke for him to analyze the situation. He had spent his life watching others, learning and keeping secrets. Hiding her magic for six years from her parents had been one of the hardest thing she had ever done – and he had done it for what, thirty, forty years?

            Valkyrie had thought about that a lot in Meek Ridge. Sometimes she thought he might have been the smartest of all of them – knowing everything, knowing it was all real, and keeping his family out of it.

            She tilted her head, trying to catch his eye. “Hey.”

            “Hello,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

            “Same,” she said, surprisingly herself with how much she meant it. He patted the chair next to him, and she sat down, arranging her skirts around her.

            “How was America?”

            “Quiet,” she said.

            Fergus smile was thin. “That’s unexpected.”

            She shrugged a shoulder. “Depends a lot on how you decide to live.”

            “I’d say so,” Fergus said. “Any particular reason you decided to come back now?”

            She shrugged. “It felt like it was time. I’ve … well, mostly settled in now.”

            He nodded and his gaze fell to Skulduggery. “And you’re taking care of yourself?”

            She nodded back, and he surprised her by putting an arm around her shoulder in a slightly awkward half hug. “You know that if you ever need anything, I’m … well, around.”

            “Of course,” she said, still a little stunned.

            “Your parents,” he said, measuring out the words, “worry about you a lot.”

            She didn’t respond.

            “But you know why. Just do us all a favor and stay safe, alright?”

            Valkyrie gave a wry smile. “No promises.”

            Her uncle tsked good-naturedly, and rubbed her arm in a weird Fergus version of comfort before standing and joining his wife.  She realized for the first time she had a good (well, relatively) relationship with her aunt and uncle – one that she might have never had without the world shaking events that magic had brought into her life.

            Melissa walked into the entrance to the ballroom, tapping a glass with a fork. Two dozen heads snapped up, and she laughed.

            “I can’t believe that worked,” she said, her voice carrying throughout the room. “Dinner’s almost ready. Is there anyone here who doesn’t eat meat?”

            Skulduggery raised his hand, and Valkyrie promptly hit him in the arm.

            Dinner was nothing special – heaps of food in tin foil containers served buffet style on paper plates. Valkyrie didn’t complain – after all, half the guests still had their baby teeth.  She joined Skulduggery, who had promptly sat down at the kids’ table. With all the looks and hushed whispered aimed in Valkyrie’s direction from the adults, she was perfectly fine with it.     

            From here she got to watch Alice – she had now been outfitted with a birthday crown and seemed to be in three different conversations with five different kids.

            Valkyrie chewed on the straw of her juice box, feeling like a fly on the wall. Her sister had waved at her when they sat down, but that was it – not that she was ignoring her or anything, she just had better things to do than try to figure out the stranger that had stormed into her life after five years and demanded to be called sister.

            There were seven candles on her birthday cake – no princesses, no talking animals, no ninja turtles. Just white frosting with “Happy Birthday, Alice” in a delicate hand she didn’t recognize.

            They sang – Skulduggery too, in a loud and over dramatic voice that made her and everyone else burst out laughing – and at the end of it, Alice puffed out her cheeks and blew. Six went out in one go – the seventh lingered for a moment and then seemed to reconsider, finally extinguishing with all the rest.

            Alice clapped her little hands and grinned as her mother kissed the top of her head and cut into the cake.

            Valkyrie carried two plates of cake over to the couch in the living room where Skulduggery was sitting. He raised an eyebrow at her.

            “I appreciate the gesture, he said, “but mouth or not, I still can’t eat that.”

            “Good,” she replied, “because these are both for me.”

            She speared a pieced and chewed, and her eyes widened. “Oh my god,” she breathed. “This is so good. This is so good. You can let me die now.”

            “I thought we established that I did not approve of that plan. Ah - Mother at 3 o'clock,” he announced suddenly, and her eyes popped open as her mum approached.

            “Hello,” she said. “Mind if I sit here?”

            “Not at all,” Valkyrie said, through a mouthful of cake. Melissa laughed, and sat next to her.

            “One of Alice’s friend’s mum is a baker – amazing, isn’t it? Wish you could try it, Skulduggery.”

            He shrugged a shoulder. “I live vicariously through her. And you are going to choke,” he said, addressing this at Valkyrie as she chewed through a particularly giant mound of cake.

            Valkyrie response was too muffled by cake to be understood.

            Melissa’s smile was warm. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” She turned to Skulduggery, her expression apologetic. “Would you mind...?”

            “Not at all,” he said, and stood, walking back into the ballroom. Valkyrie watched him go, fighting the feeling of being left alone to fend for herself.

            Melissa seemed to sense her panic. “I wanted to apologize.”

            Valkyrie swallowed. “For what?”

            “For – for everything, a few weeks ago. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was so surprised and overwhelmed I lashed out at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

            Valkyrie put her fork down. “No, I did. I absolutely deserved it. You have nothing to apologize for.”

            She shook her head. “You did what was best for you,” she said. “And I was too selfish to understand that. You need to do what makes you happy – and be with people who want that for you. I’m not going to try and stop you anymore.”

            Valkyrie gave her a small smile. “You can try a little. I liked feeling worried over, every once and while.”

            Melissa smiled back at her daughter. “Deal.”

            She stood, squeezing her shoulder. “Your sister must be opening presents by now.”

            Valkyrie nodded, taking a moment to wipe her eyes with her arms as casually as she could, and they walked together to the ballroom.

            They found Alice in a pile of wrapping paper. Desmond was taking photos, though at least half of them seemed to be strange artsy shots of ripped paper on the floor.

            Valkyrie found her present on its’ side on the table, covered by a bit of snowflake patterned paper. She carefully stepped past a throng of kids enviously admiring a very large LEGO set, and reached her sister.

            Alice put down a box and looked up to her. “Stephanie?”

            “You’ve forgotten one,” Valkyrie said, placing the baseball-sized object into both of her sisters’ hands.

            The weight of it almost dropped her to the ground, and Valkyrie quickly grabbed her, steadying the seven year old back on her feet. She kneeled in front of her sister, and waited.

            Alice looked at her, confused but curious, and took the wrapping apart quickly. (Valkyrie just covered it and stuck enough tape on it to keep it together. Wrapping had never been her strong point.)

            She rolled the object into her hand – a gold and navy hinged trinket box, round on the top and flat on the bottom.

            Alice was still confused. “Thank you,” she said, slowly, drilled in manners kicking in.

            “Try it in the dark,” she said. “Before you go to bed.”

            Alice frowned. “Okay.” She placed it on the table – carefully, next to the other gifts, and turned to Valkyrie as if she was going to say something else – when a boy raced past her and tapped her on the shoulder.

            “You’re it!”

            Alice made a noise halfway being delight and outrage and tore after him.

            “No running, sweetheart,” Melissa called after her, and she paused, shrugged, and tackled the boy instead.

            Valkyrie burst out laughing, and Melissa just sighed.

            “She’s going to break hearts, that one.”

            “Or bones,” Valkyrie said, tickled pink.

            Melissa smiled and shook her head, crossing over to the table. “This is beautiful. Where on earth did you get it?”

            “Uh,” Valkyrie said. “Internet.” It really was from a little creepy pawnshop in Roarhaven – but she didn’t think her mum would appreciate that information.

            “Well,” she said. “I can’t wait to see what it does. Would you mind sticking around after the party to show us?”

            “Oh, sure. It’s my house, after all. Skulduggery shouldn’t mind either. Wherever he is.” She frowned, looking around.

            “I don’t see him,” Melissa said, going up on tiptoes.

            “He’s like, seven feet tall,” she said. “It’s impossible to lose him at a grocery store. Where the – oh. Oh no.”

            Melissa followed her gaze. “What? He’s only talking to people.”

            “I know,” Valkyrie said, darkly.  “Excuse me.”

            She stalked across the ballroom to the table where Skulduggery sat, entertaining a substantial crowd of seven year olds and their parents.

            “Ah,” Skulduggery said, watching her approach. “I was telling them about the time you wrestled that bear.”

            She stopped, horrified. “Not the one in Denmark?”

            “No, God forbid. The one from the zoo.”

            “Oh.” Valkyrie relaxed. “Alright then.”

            The parents seemed unable to tell if she was telling the truth or this was all part of an elaborate ruse. The kids, however, were enthralled.

            “May I continue?” He asked her, handsome face every inch the polite gentleman.

            She waved her approval half-heartedly and settled on the floor, tucking her legs beneath her. There was a boy sitting next to her, and he looked at her with wide eyes.

            “You’re very pretty,” he whispered.

            “Thank you,” she said. “I like your trousers.”

            “They’re orange.”

            “I noticed.”

            They both turned as Skulduggery began speaking again, finishing off the story and then diving right into a new one.

            Skulduggery was, she had to admit, an excellent storyteller. The fact it was about her helped. She pitched in once or twice – mostly to correct him that no, it was not an entire bus worth of orphans that he saved – it was one kid, and his parents were like, five feet away – but mostly just let him talk.

            It was like magic – the effect he had on people. She had seen him do this with individuals – charming people he met, gaining favors and things through pure charisma alone, but never on a crowd.

            She was – she had to admit it – impressed.

            When he was done, he stood and took a bow, and Valkyrie rolled her eyes and clapped.

            She was about to intercept him when she saw the kid she had been talking to – the one with the orange trousers – approach him. Skulduggery kneeled down, and the kid whispered something in his ear.

            She wondered how often he got to talk to kids.

            Not very, she assumed.

            So she let them talk. She took a step back, and then another, and then promptly crashed into someone. 

            “Oops, sorry,” she said, spinning to face them, and then lurched back immediately.

            A painted face smiled back at her. “No problem.”

            She had found the clown.

            Valkyrie fought the deep instinct to punch it in the face and run. “Uh. Yeah. Good … job. With the clown stuff.”

            “Thank you,” he said, brightly, taking a balloon from his belt. “Would you like one, miss?”

            “No thank –“ a thought occurred to her, and she cut herself short. “… Hold on. Could you do a skeleton?”

            The party had begun to clear out, now that cake and presents were over with, and she could slip through the ballroom without brushing any shoulders. There were more people she recognized now then not – the parents and Alice’s friends had started trickling out, and now people who had known her since she was very little were giving her smiles and pleasant greetings.

            Skulduggery’s audience had dispersed as well. He glanced up at her as she approached, and her insides did a weird little spasm. God. This face was straight up unfair.

            “I brought you a present,” she said, taking the balloon skeleton from behind her back.

            He took it with gloved hands, and examined it with a familiar head tilt. Its face had been scribbled on with a sharpie.

            “And it’s not even my birthday. Thank you. I’ll treasure it always. Or at least until its sad, untimely balloon death.”

            “That’s all I need to hear.” She sat down, crossed her legs, and examined him.  

            “What was with the skeleton theatre thing?”

            He shrugged. “Some mothers were talking about you. They seemed to believe you had run off to rehab for five years.”

            She winced. “Oh, good. Now I’m a crack head.”

            “I told them the truth,” he said, “that you’re, you know, a hero to all, second in grandeur only to me, etcetera.”

            She put her face in her hands. “Great. Glad you’ve set the record straight. And what did that kid want?”

            “Oh,” he said. “Him. He wanted to know if you had a boyfriend.”

            Her expression was wary. “What did you say?”

            “That it was me,” Skulduggery replied.

            “Well, good – wait, what?”

            “I told him he’d have to fight me for you,” he said. “I thought it was the best course of action.”

            She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Are you kidding? How is that even remotely the right reaction?”

            He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want a seven year old boyfriend?”

            “… I – no, not particularly.”

            “Then you should thank me,” he said, “As I handled the situation for you.”  His expression was teasing, which she took a sign that he was joking. … She hoped.

            She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Are you going to use this tactic to scare off anyone interested in me?”

            He was about to answer when Desmond ran over to them, out of breath.

            “Stephanie,” he said. “It’s an emergency. I – I mean, Alice – can’t open her LEGO set. You’re my only hope.”

            Her brow crinkled. “I think I have scissors up stairs?”

            “You, my dear child,” Desmond said, seriously, “are humanity’s last hope.” He stood, brushed off his trousers, and then marched off into the kitchen.

            She could hear Melissa’s worried voice coming from the other room. “Des, no, don’t use the knives –“

            Valkyrie shook her head and stood, looking back at Skulduggery. “Come on. I think they’re in Gordon’s office.”

            They approached the staircase – which had been gently barricaded with a streamer – and Valkyrie slipped under it. Skulduggery stepped over, long legs having no trouble. They walked upstairs, Skulduggery’s skeleton balloon safely secured in his suit jacket.

            Xena was asleep in her bed in the hallway – Valkyrie gave her a kiss between the ears and let her sleep. Maybe her parents (and Alice) would want to meet her later on. She hoped so.

            Valkyrie usually left the office door closed but not locked, and she slipped an arm inside, groping for the light. The room lit up, revealing something that looked exactly the way it did the day Gordon died – and probably always would. 

            “I see you don’t come up here often,” Skulduggery said, squatting to examine a dust-covered row of books.

            “I never saw any reason to after Gordon died,” she answered. “I mean, the second time. The first time was creepy enough as he was murdered … you know, right here, but …”

            “Not a lot of good memories in the room,” he said, swapping the order of a few titles on the bottom. “I understand.”

            Valkyrie leaned against the back of the office chair, arms crossed. “Are you implying that our first conversation was a bad memory?”

            He turned to her. “I seem to recall you told me I was odd.”

            “You called yourself odd,” she argued.

            “But you agreed.”

            “Oh, yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Truly, the worst thing I’ve ever said to you.”

            “I have never fully recovered,” he said, hand where his heart should be.

            She scoffed, opening up another drawer on the side. “Why’d you follow me in here then, anyway? Just to talk?”

            “Mostly,” he said, and she could hear the sound of a heavy hardcover falling over. “You were a sad, lost soul with no hope –“

            “Uh huh.”

            “… And I thought I could bring the slightest ray of sunshine in your dire life with my words of wisdom.”

            He very narrowly dodged the tape roll she threw at him.

            “I’m serious,” she said. “Why me?”

            “Gordon liked you,” he said, glancing back up at her. “That was good enough for me.”

            She nodded, pressing her lips together. She wondered if her uncle – the live one, the flesh and blood one – had ever guessed how much his hand had influenced her life.

            They were quiet for a while, the only sound being the quiet shuffling as Valkyrie continued shifting through the drawers.

“I wish my parents got to meet him,” she said, eventually. “Or I mean – the echo stone version. Fergus too.”

            He nodded, didn’t say anything.

            She looked down at the books he was sorting. “I know Gordon wrote - in a roundabout way - about Tanith, and a few others – but did he ever write about you?”

            Skulduggery shook his head. “He told me I wouldn’t make an interesting book character.”

            “Oh, ouch,” she said, kneeling down and digging through the drawer at the very bottom. “That must not have been kind to your fragile ego.”

            Skulduggery stood. “I chose to take it simply as he would not be able to handle the popularity and universal acclaim a novel starring me would receive.”

            “That was probably it,” she said, grinning. She shut the last drawer, turning to him. “Can’t find any – think I might have some in my room.”

            He helped her to her feet, and she gave a little laugh.

            Skulduggery tilted his head at her. “What?”

            “I was beginning to think I was diseased.”

            He followed her through the office door. “I was trying to figure out the best time to tell you.” He paused. “… And just to make sure, what … exactly did you mean?”

            “Nothing,” she said quickly, going red. She had only meant that he had been so touchy lately – and then had stopped the minute they walked inside the mansion. “It’s stupid.”

            He looked like he was going to keep pressing her on it, so she opened the door to her room wide and immediately headed to her desk.

            “Don’t say a word,” Valkyrie warned him. “I know it’s a mess.”

            Where the room in his house was clean and pristine filled with mementos and memories from over the year, this room had been very obviously lived in for only a month. Skulduggery had to step carefully to avoid treading on her clothes, and there were boxes forming tall towers in every corner. It was bigger than any of her old rooms, too – and there was an excess of empty space as a result.

            “I’m amazed you’ve actually made it out of here alive.” He hung back by the doorway, like he was afraid of getting lost.

            “Oh, shut up,” she said. “Your snarky commentary isn’t actually helping, sir. Maybe I should get orange-trousers boy up here. He’d help me.”

            “I’m sure he would,” Skulduggery said. “He’s quite smitten.”

            “Better me than my sister,” she said. “Some of those boys are acting like they’re in love with her already. Mark my words,” she said. “If anyone tries to make a move on her, I’m burning their face off.”

            “You can’t do that.”

            “I’ll have you burn their face off, then.”

            “That’s not what I meant,” he said, with a little sigh.

            She straightened up, put her hands on her hips. “My point stands,” she said. “No boy is getting anywhere near my little sister. You’re good at instilling terror. Keep them away.”

            “Fine. You’re going to have your hands full with suitors, anyway. You could probably form an expedition team to clean your room for you.”

            “Yeah, because there’s people lining up to date the girl who almost killed everyone,” she said. “My last kiss was Ryan, did you know that?” She paused. “Well – except for that, but that … that doesn’t really count.”

            Skulduggery’s voice was ever so casual. “What doesn’t really count?”

            “… You know,” she said, face getting red. “The … thing. The thing we didn’t talk about. The thing we shouldn’t be talking about now, actually, so I’m just going to shut up.”

            His expression was grim, apologetic. ”I didn’t … know that would bother you. I’m sorry.”

            “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said quickly, wanting to get off the subject. “Let’s – it didn’t even technically happen, so let’s … not.”

            “No, I overstepped my …” he trailed off, and his brow furrowed, perfectly. “What do you mean, it didn’t even happen?”

            “The ... the Darquesse thing. With you. And your, uh, skull.”

            “Oh,” he said, and blinked.

            “… What were you talking about?”

            He fidgeted. “They’ve probably found scissors by now.”

            “Skulduggery.”

            “We are going to get eaten alive if we stay in this room any longer-”

            “Skulduggery.”

            He took a sharp breath, looked at a wall as if to compose himself before speaking. “I kissed you on the cheek,” he said, every word curt and sharp. “Before you left. I thought that was what you meant.”

            The memory of that day brought physically her back a step, and she swallowed hard. “You don’t think we should talk about that day?”

            He kept looking at anything but her. “Not particularly. Do you?”

            “Obviously not,” she said, her voice low. She moved past him, back through the door. He froze, stunned, and it took him a moment to recover before following her.

            “Or we… could, if you want to,” Skulduggery said, grasping for damage control.

            “You clearly think it’s not something worth discussing,” she said, “so why bother?”

            “Valkyrie –“

            “I mean,” she said, slowly. “All it was to you was a big joke, a clever prank, so obviously you’d see no need to talk about it. You didn’t know it would bother me.”

            He froze again, and she knew she should just shut up, but the words were pouring out now with no sign of stopping.

            Valkyrie turned sharply away from him. “But at least you’re sorry for kissing me. That one little peck that made me think I was going to lose you forever? Was that just the cherry on top?”

            “That’s  …”

            She stormed out into the balcony, flinging the doors open as she went. She felt like her hair was on end, like there was a lightning storm coming.  “You laughed in my face, Skulduggery. You made me believe I was saying goodbye and you –“ she was suddenly choking on tears she hadn’t even felt coming. “You were just fucking with me.”

            He grabbed her wrist, gently, and she broke out of his grasp.

            “No,” she said. “No, don’t you dare-” she could feeling her magic crackling in the night air, tuned into her emotions.

            “Just let me explain,” he spoke softly, like he was trying to console a wild animal.

            “There’s nothing to explain. It was just – you, being your usual hilarious self, and I was just – a stupid overemotional girl.” She was crying hard now, and it only served to make her angrier.

            “I wasn’t joking,” Skulduggery said, so fiercely she felt her words shrivel up and die in her throat. “Not – not at first.”

            She took a step back, feeling the electricity building in her fingers, and waited, looking at him. Let him speak, even though she still wanted to lash out, wanted to let everything she had been holding coming flying apart.

He exhaled slowly, taking off his hat and running a hand through his fake hair. She let him work up to it, let him have the chance to explain himself.

            “I didn’t know it was going to work,” he said. “I had no idea if it would count. We didn’t have time to get anyone else, and I knew if it couldn’t be Ravel, it was going to have to be me. Or … or you.”

            She could only stare at him, the only sound being her magic still crackling around her.

            “So I let you panic,” Skulduggery continued. “I let you – I let you cry, because I knew anything I could say in attempt to explain would only make it worse. You wouldn’t – you wouldn’t listen, and I know even if you did you’d never let me do it. I wanted to use Ravel – knew the bastard deserved it more than anyone else, was willing to risk it all just to give him what was coming to him. But –“

            His voice grew quieter, and he wet his lips.

            “…I wasn’t – I am not an innocent man. I can’t say it wouldn’t be a fitting end for – for everything I had done. And I knew – I knew if the engineer wouldn’t take his unwilling sacrifice, it’d have to be mine. There was – there was no time. So I – I tried to take your mind off of it, make you think nothing of it-”

            “It wasn’t nothing to me,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

            His expression softened. “I said goodbye. I tried to say it in a way that wouldn’t upset you more – which, in hindsight, really did not work – and I … I kissed you goodbye, because I knew it might be my only chance to. And then I picked Ravel off the floor and threw him in, and that was it.”

            She looked down, trying to regain her composure. “You should have – but then why did you – why didn’t you tell me that instead of telling me the world wasn’t worth living in or whatever crap you spouted?”

            He tilted his head down, meeting her eye. “Because, as you very well know by now, I have no idea how to handle delicate situations.”

            “Obviously,” she said, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.

            “I had no idea,” he said, “that you still felt like this. That you even still thought about it. I’m sorry.”

            She put a hand on her forehead, pushed her hair back. Her face was burning. “I shouldn’t have blown up at you. I’m sorry.”

            He gave her a thin smile. “No, I’m not sure I would have ever gotten it if you didn’t. I’m glad you did – I deserved it.”

            She walked around him, hitting him in the arm – not too hard, but not too lightly, either.

            “That too.”

            She walked towards the balcony railing, pushing herself up onto it. She was breathing evenly, trying to get her magic to disperse.

            “Careful,” he said, and she rolled her eyes at him.

            “Air magic or no, I can still handle heights.”

            He walked in front of her – they were almost the same height like this. She was a smidge taller, actually.

            She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve been carrying that around for the last five years. I didn’t want to – I didn’t ever bring it up because I was scared too.”

            “Which is my fault,” he said, “for not taking you seriously in the first place. I promise to take you and your feelings seriously from now on.”

            She looked at him.

            “Most of the time. … Three/fifths of the time. … At least half.”

            “Bank holidays,” she suggested.

            “Deal.”

            “I told you,” Valkyrie said. “I don’t need you sensitive. You’ve been too nice since I’ve got back, actually. I miss the insults.”

            “That can be arranged. Idiot,” he added, affectionately.

            “Moron.”

            “Simpleton.”

            She grinned, and a long comfortable silence passed. She wondered if her parents were looking for her. She didn’t want to face them when her face was still all blotchy from crying – and she was enjoying the night air and Skulduggery’s quiet presence.

            He had handed her his handkerchief earlier, and she handed it back to him, a little damp but none worse for the wear.

            “I’m surprised there’s not mascara all over it,” he said, refolding it and returning it to his pocket.

            “I’m not wearing makeup,” she said.

            His eyebrows rose. “Really? I assumed, with how ravishing you look tonight-”

            She shoved him. “Nice attempt at a save,” she said. “But it’s going to be harder than that.”

            “Have I mentioned how well that color suits you?”

            She gestured ‘more’ with her hand.

            “And that you’re even taller than usual with those heels.”

            She unbuckled them with one hand, the other keeping her steady on the railing. “You’re free to try them on.”

            He laughed. “Do I need to keep going?”

            She gave him a look.

            “Then I’ll be trying my hardest to restore your good faith in me for however long it takes.”

            “Maybe start by not scaring off people by telling them we’re dating,” she suggested, dropping her shoes on the ground.

            “You’re awfully stuck on this subject,” he said, sounding amused. “But I reiterate. Do you want a seven year old boyfriend?”

            “What, you’re telling me that this was a one time thing?” she asked, crossing her arms. “That you’d never do this again?”

            “Well,” he said. “I wouldn’t say that.”

            “I’m being serious,” she said. “My chances at getting a boyfriend are slim to none. I can’t have you stopping every guy who’s interested in me. Or girl,” she added, thinking of Tanith and Aurora.

            “I’m screening them, not stopping them. Weeding out the weak. Survival of the fittest.”

            Valkyrie reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. “I’m almost starting to think you’re jealous.”

            It was too dark to tell – there was no way he was blushing.

            “I will only have the finest of seven year olds and mental patients for you,” he continued, as if she hadn’t said anything.

            She laughed aloud, letting go of his face. “I’m a catch,” she said. “It’s good you’re on vacation, because it’ll be like a full time job - they’ll be lining up at your door.”

            “I’ll beat them back with sticks.”

            “They’ll keep coming.”

            “Then I’ll show them that photo of you eating a burger.”

            She made an outraged noise. “You wouldn’t.”

            He reached up a hand to her face, his thumb brushing the exact place on her cheek where he had kissed her. Her heart took a sudden visit to her throat.

            “I would,” he said, seriously.

            “And if someone’s still interested in me then?” she asked, softly. Her hands drifted down, one resting gently against his chest.

            “Then maybe they actually deserve you,” he said. “Or are completely insane. Probably both.”

            “Do you know anyone like that?” she said, feeling like her heart was about to burst out of her body.         

            He frowned. “I have an old acquaintance who recently divorced a gopher, you can’t be much-”

            She could feel his lips still trying to form the insult as she closed the distance between them with a kiss.

            His skin was cool like his bones were – in a way that felt strange and comforting all at once. As handsome as this face was, she missed it – and enjoyed the reminder. It took her brain a long moment to catch up to the rest of her – to completely register that she, on complete and total impulse, had kissed Skulduggery Pleasant.

            And he wasn’t kissing her back.

            She pulled away with a jolt, so quickly she nearly toppled over the balcony. His expression was dazed – and his eyes filled with questions she didn’t think she could answer.

            “Right,” she said, forcing a laugh, like it had been an elaborate joke. “Let’s – let’s just add that to the list of things we don’t talk about.”

            Skulduggery’s face emoted slowly, like he was being filmed in stop motion. “You – you – you caught me off guard,” he stuttered.

            “I know,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even. She was so – so stupid, of course he didn’t – Jesus, what was she thinking – “Please just forget about it.”

            “Valkyrie-"

            “Skulduggery, please.”

            She tried to jump down off the balcony, but he blocked her, kept her there.

            “Listen to me,” he said, forcing her to look at him.

            She fought to keep eye contact with the intensity of his gaze.

            He took a breath he didn’t need to take, and said, in a rambling sort of rush, “I formally request a do over.”

            “A – a what?”

            “A do over,” he said, very seriously. “If they are allowed.”

            She looked at him, confused. “I … think so.”         

            “I am requesting your permission to kiss you again,” he said, for clarification. “Because I’m an idiot.”

            “Request granted,” she said, still a little dazed. He tilted his head towards her, leaning forward – and then stopped, maybe about an inch away.

            “Hi,” he said, very close indeed.

            A smile spread across her face. “Hi.”

            His eyes – fake but so lovely, so very him – drifted shut, and hers followed suit.

            Where she had been immediate, almost instinctive, he was cautious – he leaned forward slowly and brushed his lips with hers. Gloved fingers were entwined in her hair, the other gently rested on her knee. She leaned in towards him, arms wrapping around his neck.

            Five years ago he had kissed her goodbye. It hadn’t really been goodbye – not forever – but for a long, long time.

            And this? This was the kiss that should have come a month earlier, at her doorstep four thousand miles away. A kiss hello.

            He was supporting her weight more than the balcony railing was. She could feel herself melting into his touch, melting more and more every time his lips left hers to brush her cheek, the corner of her mouth, the side of her jaw. Each one was an affirmation – that he was here, that he was real, that he wasn’t leaving her.

            Some time after, his thumb brushed under the hem of her dress – probably accidentally, but she pulled back a fraction to laugh.

            “You cad,” she said, unable to keep herself from laughing. “My family is downstairs.”

            He looked at the offending hand, as if not even fully aware of what he was doing. “Your knee is very alluring. My apologies for being unable to resist.”

            She kissed him again, and this one would have probably lasted a very long time if not for one little word:

            “Gross.”

            Valkyrie shot backwards so quickly that Skulduggery had to grab her arms to keep from toppling over, but she didn’t care, it didn’t matter, because –

            Alice Edgley stood between the still open balcony doors, her arms crossed. She was still wearing her birthday crown, and her dress had frosting on it.

            “Kissing is gross,” she elaborated, as if trying to reprimand them.

            Valkyrie, feeling like the world was now going in slow motion, jumped – well, more like slid – off the railing, and ran, barefoot, to where her sister was standing.

            She dropped to her knees and blurt out the first words that came to mind. “Alice, you – you can’t tell our parents.”

            Alice’s eyes widened, and then her expression turned devious, and Valkyrie very quickly realized she had made a horrible, horrible mistake.

            “Why not?”

            Valkyrie swallowed. “Because it’ll be – I mean – I just got back, and-”

            Something glittered in her sister’s eyes. “What will you do for me if I don’t?”

            Valkyrie shot a baffled look at Skulduggery, who just shrugged. “What – what do you mean, what will I do?”

            “I mean,” she said, “you owe me. For not telling on you.”

            Valkyrie closed her eyes very tightly, took a deep breath. The little brat was blackmailing her? “Alice,” she said, slowly.

            “You’ll do all my chores,” said the little dictator, looking very proud of herself. “For a month.”

            “Two weeks,” Valkyrie said, automatically.

            “Three.”

            “Two.”

            Alice puffed up her cheeks, as if about to yell. “MUM-“

            Valkyrie covered her sister’s mouth with her hand before she could get another syllable out. “Fine. Three.”

            “And you have to come to dinner once a week,” Alice said, quickly. “At least.”

            Valkyrie felt, very suddenly, all her annoyance evaporate. “You – you want me there?”

            “Duh,” Alice said, but not meanly. “You’re my sister.”

            She realized, with a little shock, that this was the first time it felt like it was true.

            “And I get your dessert.”

            Valkyrie sighed. “Fine. Deal. Just – don’t tell mum and dad. Not – I’ll talk to them, first, okay?”

            Alice nodded. She tilted her head to look around her sister, and Skulduggery gave her a wave.

            “Why are you up here, anyway?” Valkyrie asked.

            “Dad wanted you to see the pirate ship he made out of my LEGOs.”

            Valkyrie found herself smiling, despite herself. “I’ll be down there soon, okay?”

            The seven year old nodded, and then jump forward and hugged her. “Don’t get cooties,” she said, very seriously, and slipped back through the door.

            Valkyrie stood, and then turned to Skulduggery, who walked over to her.

            “My sister,” she said, slowly, “is a little monster.”

            “She’s nearly as annoying as you were at twice her age,” he said. “That’s impressive.”

            “Oh, shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes and grabbing his tie for another –

            “You better not be kissing again!” Alice said, ducking her head through the door, and Skulduggery laughed aloud. Valkyrie glared at him for a moment before she did too – and with it, felt like another weight had been lifted from her chest.

             Alice stayed true to her word and didn’t say a thing. Valkyrie wasn’t sure if it mattered, though – she felt like the truth was written across their faces.  It was his fault, mostly, for the way his hand kept finding hers, and the stupid smiles that he was sending her, and the fact that looking at him made her heart ache even more than it had earlier that evening.

            The less she thought about it, she figured, the more chance she had to actually keep it quiet until she knew what to tell her parents. She wasn’t even sure what there was to tell – she didn’t know what she wanted from this yet, what she wanted to do. She liked kissing him, liked the way that it made her feel whole and home, but she didn’t know if she wanted their relationship to change that drastically after all this time. But for now, until she figured it out, it was like a book left open on its back – something she could leave or pick up and start reading again at any time. And she knew that Skulduggery would understand that.

            He’d always understand.

            Besides that slight inner crisis, the rest of the evening was lovely. Xena had woken up and she had introduced Alice to her – and Xena had loved her immediately. They were cuddled up together now, both utterly smitten, as Alice tried to figure out one of her new presents. Her parents were drinking some wine from Gordon’s cellar, looking content and happy. The rest of the guests had left while she was upstairs (including Fergus and Beryl, who had told her parents that they would love to have her over for dinner soon) and now it was just her and her family.

            Her father’s pirate ship, she had to admit, really was impressive. It sat like a centerpiece on the table while they cleaned up, picking wrapping paper and plastic forks up from the floor. Her mum was in the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher. (“People who still hand wash dishes have more patience than I’ll ever possess,” she told Valkyrie.)

            Skulduggery gave her an amused look. “You, cleaning? Never thought I’d see the day.”

            “Hush,” she said. “Tanith and I can’t do any sock sliding in here if there’s trash on the ground. Sacrifices must be made.”

            “It’s funny,” Melissa said. “She was so messy as a kid and then she was neat as a teenager – and now right back to it. Don’t know what happened.”

            Valkyrie pressed her lips together, fighting to find the right response – the right lie, really.

            “I guess I’m figuring out that I have a lot to figure out from the person I was when I was younger,” she said at last, and then realized it wasn’t a lie at all.

            “…Which means I’m picking up her bad habits again,” she added, and Melissa grinned.

            “Long as I don’t have to clean up after you anymore, I won’t complain.” She looked over at her other daughter, who was now flopped over on a purple plastic chair.

            “Looks like we’ll be heading out soon. Little miss is half asleep.”

            Alice sat up quickly. “I’m not sleepy,” she protested, and then yawned.

            Valkyrie grinned, ruffling her hair. “Tell you what. I’ll show you what your present does and then you’ll go home, okay?”

            Alice nodded eagerly.

            Valkyrie turned the stairs, and then stopped. “Actually, now that I think about it, it’d look pretty cool in here. Mum, dad, would you mind turning off the lights?

            Desmond scampered off, flicked the switch. She could hear his voice from the far corner of the room. “I’m just going to, y’know, stay over here for now. Want to avoid tripping over my own feet.”

            “You’ll be able to see it from there,” she said, smiling. “Skulduggery – do you, uh, have a lighter?”

            “Never leave home without it,” he said, and she heard him click his fingers as a tiny flame emerged from his hand. He walked over to her, not one bit affected by the darkness, and moved his hand over the little trinket box. She looked over to where Alice was standing, a couple feet away, and flipped the lid open, her thumb sliding across the trigger inside.

            A moment passed, and then a light shot up from the center of the box to the ball room ceiling – more followed under and through until a grid was formed, and one by one orbs began to appear. She heard her mother gasp as it became more obvious – every planet and its moons, with Earth right above their heads.

            “It changes as the planet rotates around the sun,” she told Alice. “So you always know where you are in the universe.”

            Alice blinked, in total awe.

            “Better than glow in the dark stars, huh?”

            She grinned and nodded enthusiastically, and Valkyrie closed the box and handed it back to her sister. The planets faded out gradually, like an old lamp.

            “Take good care of it, okay?”

            “Okay,” she said. “… Thank you.”

            She leaned down, kissed her sister right at the top of her head. “Thank you.”

             “The internet, was it?”

            They stood in the doorway, Valkyrie waving to her family as they backed out of the mansion’s driveway.

            “I don’t actually know what you’re talking about.”

            “Your father was asking me what website contains mind blowing planetary boxes. I told him Amazon was a very diverse website and left it at that.”

            Valkyrie’s shoulders drooped. “I didn’t know what else to say – I know they don’t want Alice around magic, little or not.”

            “But you’re taking that risk,” he said.

            “It was a cool gift,” she said. “Better than your idea of a suit.”

            “Never too young,” Skulduggery said immediately. “But if your sister does end up becoming involved…”

            “I’ll figure it out when we get there. For now I’m just glad she wants me around.”

            “In part because she is blackmailing you, granted.”

            “Yeah,” she said, smiling despite herself. “That girl will be going places, I swear.”

            He blinked, and then suddenly his face was gone.

            “Damn it,” he muttered. “Guess three hours is the limit now.”

            “Rest in peace, hot face,” Valkyrie said, patting him consolingly on the cheek.

            He may have been sulking slightly. She let him. If he didn’t yet realize that the face mattered very little to her in the long run, then he was smart enough to figure it out eventually.

            She sat down on the front steps, and he followed. His jacket was around her shoulders before she even realized she was shivering.

            “I’m sorry,” she said, after a few minutes of silence.

            “For what?”

            “For being stupid.”

            He tilted his head. “Better late than never, I suppose.”

            “Ssh. I’m trying to – let me just say this, okay?” When he didn’t offer any more snarky commentary, she continued. “I told you last month you weren’t my family. Tonight I realized how wrong I was. It – none of this would have felt right without you. You are – well. You know.”

            He took her hand in his, raised it to his mouth. He pressed her knuckles against his teeth, and –

            “That sounds vaguely incestual after the events of tonight,” he teased.

            -and thoroughly ruined it. She used the hand he was kissing to (gently) smack him in the chin, and he laughed and continued making fun of her.

            They were debating what film they should watch – he was insisting on a Bogart, while she wanted Avengers 3 – when his phone rang. Swearing, Skulduggery swiped the answer button, held it to where his ear would be.

            “I thought I made it clear that I was taking a vacation,” he said immediately. “… Good. Glad that’s clear. Yes, I remember him – no. No, obviously not – I haven’t even been in Roarhaven for a week – you’re …” He pulled the phone back a fraction, like whoever was on the line was being too loud. “Yes. Fine. I’ll be there.”

            He hung up, made an irritated noise, and turned to Valkyrie. “Alan Blythe was murdered,” he said, as if it was all a big inconvenience.

            It took Valkyrie a moment to remember the man who had insulted her in the Sanctuary two weeks earlier. “Oh. Uh. Should we feel bad about that?”

            “No,” he said. “But they’re looking for his murderer.”

            Valkyrie made a face. “They called you even though you’re on a vacation?”

            “That’s the thing,” he said. “I am, apparently, the number one suspect.”

            Valkyrie eyes widened. “Oh. Well, then, yeah, that would change things.” She paused. “… Did you kill him?”

            “No,” he said, aghast.

            “It’d be okay if you did.”

            “While he absolutely deserves it,” Skulduggery said, “I did not.”

            Valkyrie paused. “So – not for my honor, or anything…”

            “If I killed him,” Skulduggery said, “and I didn’t, it would be for my own honor, thank you very much. He mocked my socks once. Terrible, terrible man. And no less annoying in death, it seems.” He sighed. “We’ll have to postpone the rest of the evening, I’m afraid - you’re going to have to drop me off at my place, so I can go to Roarhaven and get this settled tonight.” He walked down the steps, towards where her car was parked. “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” she said, following him down. “I’ll go with you.”

            He paused, looking at her from across the driveway. “Are you sure?”

            “Yeah,” she said, grinning. “I think I’m ready. Besides, I want to see you go on tribunal.”

            His skull tilted up in his version of an eye roll. “I told you, I didn’t kill him-”

            “Then we better figure out who did,” she said, her eyes lighting up.

            He looked back at her, skull grinning as widely as ever. “Yes,” he replied. “I suppose we should.”

            She jumped into the driver’s seat and Skulduggery followed, buckling his seat belt, and she turned the radio up and drove just ever so slightly past the speed limit.

            Skulduggery didn’t complain.