HA! This is my area! One-shots! I can be as silly as I like, as hopelessly cliche, as pathetically romantic, or just plain random, and it doesn't matter! Because I'm not going to worry about how I'm writing these, I'm just going to churn these out whenever I feel like it!

Ahem. Rant's over.

You have no idea how long I have wanted to make a series of one-shots. And now I've finally found the perfect series! (WARNING: I HAVE NOT READ DARK DAYS, SO NOBODY LEAVE SPOILERS FOR ME SAYING HOW DIFFERENT THIS IS FROM THE BOOK, PLEASE.)

So enjoy the strange whims in which my mind takes me....I like to call it Inspiration.


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The Sқєlєtoη Muses

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[Comment by Sk.] Naturally, the series is named after me.

[Edit by Val.]: What do you do? I do all the work around here. Let's call it: Snapshots out of Valkyrie Cain's Life, With Her Trusty Side-Kick Skulduggery Pleasant.

[Edit by Sk.]: Excuse me? I'm the star of this series, being wonderful as I am. And I can't be the side-kick, the side-kick always gets it. Taken down in some horribly dramatic fashion, usually.

[Edit by Val.]: That's sort of the point. I rescued you, remember?

[Edit by Sk.]: . . .Ah.


Snapshot One: The Dramatic Fashion, Part I

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Valkyrie bit her lip.

Everything was right. She had Skulduggery's skull, held tightly, yet gently, in her hands. Fletcher was here, ready to do whatever Teleporters did when transferring living skeletons through dimensions infested with dark gods. Tanith was here. Ghastly was here.

It should work.

"It should work, right?" she muttered to herself. "Everything's right, I haven't forgotten anything, it should work. It should."

Unfortunately, Fletcher heard. "Are you talking to yourself?" he called over his shoulder. "That's like the first sign of--"

"Tanith, hit him for me." Valkyrie wasn't in the mood. "My hands are full."

"Hit me as hard as you like, baby," Fletcher crooned, flashing a smile at Tanith. "I can take it--OW!"

"Thanks, Tanith."

"No prob." Tanith smiled and put her hands--more importantly, her fists--back inside her jacket.

"I am so helping you," Fletcher grumbled, rubbing his shoulder. "You need me to do this, so don't man-handle me."

"Who's man-handling you?" Tanith grinned. "Ghastly's the only man here."

"Fine." Fletcher pouted at the slight to his masculinity. "Don't woman-handle me."

Ghastly chuckled in the background, but it was a cover-up for the nerves they were all feeling. This had to work. It had to. Skulduggery had to still be alive, just stuck in another dimension, and being in the same place he was sucked into that dimension had to bring him back. A Teleporter to bring him back, an Anchor to call him back, and friends praying for him to come back.

It had to.

"Shut up," Valkyrie said absently, tracing little patterns onto the white bone of the skull. "I think we're ready."

Everything would work, this time. It had to.

Well, the trees swayed dramatically, enticing in their autumn colors, and the air was still except for the lisping wind. There was complete silence in the woods, and the ground was soft and spongy beneath their feet. It was a perfectly dramatic enough setting for what they were doing.

It was also, however, a place where hope could grow, blossom, fester, and then be pathetically crushed.

Stop that, Valkyrie told herself. That's pessimism. What would Skulduggery say? "The world's wierd enough already without strange metaphors?" So stop it.

She stepped forward lightly, and gently, ever so gently, set her friend's skull on the ground. The others watched her.

It was the same place Skulduggery had been dragged into the dimension, and the marks where his fingers had torn the ground were long gone, and it was the same place he'd looked up at her, the empty sockets, and he'd reached out as she'd screamed his name--

Stop it, she thought, and stepped back.

"Go on, Fletcher," she said softly. It felt wierd to be putting all of her hopes into a boy with ridiculously spiky hair.

Fletcher walked forward and rolled up his sleeves.

It was perfectly quiet. Wind wafted across Valkyrie's face, and she stood with her arms loose at her sides. Ghastly laid a hand on her thin shoulder. She didn't look up, but looked down sharply when she felt something touch her hand.

Fingers entwined with Valkyrie's, and Tanith squeezed her hand reassuringly, with a kind smile on her face.

And then the wind picked up speed, but Valkyrie looked around and saw that everything was perfectly still, and the wind howled and screamed, but everything else was perfectly still---There was a rushing in her ears, a rush of something like blood, and purple pulsed at the edges of her vision---

"It's the portal," she whispered, but the non-existent wind stole it from her even her own ears.

Fletcher stood with his eyes closed and a pained expression. His fingers shook.

Just like last time, a portal formed--

--a dark, swirling circle, ripping through the very seams of reality, gaping--

--some panic seeped through them all. If the Faceless Ones came through--

--a dark figure--

It crawled from the opening. It reached, still crawling, and placed both hands on the skull wearily. Fletcher put his hands down, exhausted. With a giant schloop, the purple portal closed, and the silent rushing wind faded away.

"Skulduggery...?" Valkyrie breathed. After nearly a year, this was unreal, the stuff of dreams, it couldn't really be...

She thought about this moment so many times. She'd imagined running up to him, hugging him, being careful not to put a hand through his ribs. He'd laugh and say something, something witty and funny and completely understated in a hopelessly dramatic fashion.

"Skulduggery!" Valkyrie cried, and ran to him.

He lifted his head, and was about to say something when she hugged him.

"I've..." She felt something wet on her skin, on her face. "I've missed you so much."

His jaw opened.

"Oh," he said. "Damn. I'm naked."

And suddenly Valkyrie realized the bone ribcage she'd been hugging had no cloth over it.


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A/N: Didn't expect that, now did you? Ha ha...Continued in Part II.