A/N: This is my first ever SP fanfic, so please don't flame me too excessively :P Expect light fluffiness. The plot bunnies attacked me viciously, LOL. Please R & R! Just a warning: I 3 Valduggery, so if you ship Fletcherie, this is not the story for you!

BTW, I just finished Death Bringer. My reaction?

FRICKIN. AWESOME. ;)

Disclaimer: Much to my chagrin, I do not own the Skulduggery Pleasant series, characters, or any of its affiliates. *Sigh*

Cracking Knuckles

Skulduggery sat immobile in his armchair. He had taken to the habit of cracking his knuckles (much to Valkyrie's chagrin) and did so as he went over the data again and again, checking erroneously for any slip-ups in his logic. He sat there in all seriousness, the sound of bones cracking into his thoughts. It helped him think, really. Valkyrie cleared her throat for the fifth time before he looked up.

"Ahem."

"Yes?" the detective replied absentmindedly.

"This is the seventh time I've told you." Valkyrie put her hands on her hips and frowned.

"Told brilliant me what?" he said innocently.

"To stop cracking your knuckles, genius!" she rolled her eyes.

"Why, thank you; so kind of you to notice my massive intellect and virtuoso!" Skulduggery beamed.

"No, you idiot. It's a request, not a compliment!" Valkyrie exclaimed exasperatedly.

Skulduggery tilted his head ever so gracefully.

"I don't comprehend what's so infuriating about it. If anything, you have your little quirks as well. The singing-when-training thing? It pains my ears to listen, but do I complain?"

Valkyrie blushed furiously and glared.

"Like your breaking bones are music to the ears. And it's not exactly the smartest thing for a skeleton to do, is it?"

Skulduggery waved a hand as if motioning the very idea away.

"If you are suggesting a hazardous depletion of calcium, I can happily tell you that I have survived the mauling and gnawing of at least forty bone-hungry dogs in the last three centuries. AND I still look devilishly handsome, if I do say so myself."

Valkyrie harrumphed.

"I still think you cracking your knuckles is a bad idea. Doesn't that do some stuff like loosen your joints or something? What if your fingers come off in the middle of a fight?"

Skulduggery shrugged nonchalantly.

"Fingers, that's nothing. At least you have another hand. Head? Now that's a problem."

Valkyrie's nose wrinkled up. "Eww."

"Exactly." The skeleton patted his skull affectionately. "I'm so glad I found it in the mud."

Valkyrie snickered.

"Are you sure it's cleaned properly? Seems like there's still a lot of gunk stuck in that skull of yours."

"Haha - hilarious. Speak for yourself - there's got to be some brain disfiguration if you don't realize how incredibly off-tune you are."

Ooh, that was low. Valkyrie's cheeks flushed with color.

"OUT, PLEASANT, OUT!" she said, pushing him out the door despite his protests.

"You can come in when you're ready to apologize!" she shouted through the door.

"But it's my house!" Skulduggery whined, the mahogany door muffling his response.

Valkyrie smirked. This was going to be the most fun she'd had in ages, ever since she'd posted that picture of Tanith on Hexbook, the hottest magic-only social networking site.

Outside the door, Skulduggery sat down on the floor to meditate on revenge.

He cracked his knuckles.

Valkyrie banged her head on the wall in frustration.

"ARGH!" she yelled, "STOP! CRACKING! YOUR! KNUCKLES!"

"ARGH!" Skulduggery mimicked, "STOP! SINGING! IT'S! HORRIBLE!"

Valkyrie sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Thanks for reading - review? Please? I'll give you an imaginary cookie ;)