The movie was okay, in his opinion. Altogether too much CGI for his liking, and the classic hero trope was a bit much, but really, he shouldn't have expected a masterpiece. Skulduggery gave a glance downwards at Valkyrie, who had reinstated herself against his chest at some point during the first few scenes. She looked up.

"So," she said, "which one's your favourite?"

"I beg your pardon?"

She made a grab upward for his hat. He batted her hand away. "Of the characters. Who's your favourite?"

"Is this entirely necessary for you to be asking?"

She pouted. "Of course it is! You were paying attention, weren't you?"

He stared at her. Her eyes widened.

"It better not be Black Widow. I won't have my favourite skeleton detective going on a rant about leather pants!"

"I beg your pardon? I didn't have a favourite."

She sighed, kicked one leg over the other, crossing them. "That's so boring."

"Well, who was yours, then?"

He could see her smirk. It was a bit odd to be looking at a person's expressions upside down, but then, this wasn't just a person; this was Valkyrie. He could tell if she was frowning or smiling if he was blind.

"Mine," she said, "was Loki."

"Loki?"

"Yep." She made a point of popping her lips on the 'p'.

He remained silent.

"Wanna know why?" she asked him, and because he knew that she would tell him anyway, he nodded.

"Because he's real."

Skulduggery tilted his head in the way that he did when he was sceptical of something. "Valkyrie, I'm not entirely certain that believing in Norse Gods is healthy, and besides-"

She cut him off with a snort. "I didn't mean real real. I meant that his character is believable. He's spent all of his life being undermined and betrayed by his own family. So he does the only thing he knows how to do and tries to prove his worth by being an evil badass and taking over the world."

"I'm not sure how that fits in to the category of 'believable'. I have never known someone to do that. And I've lived a long time. And he didn't really do any of those things well, did he?"

"Skulduggery," she said, and suddenly her eyes went serious, "It's believable, okay?"

Well, he'd give her this one. "Alright," he amended, "he's a good villain. And I can't make fun too much, because I liked his character the most."

"Ha!" Valkyrie cried, pushing herself up, stared right in to his eye sockets from the other side of the sofa. "I knew it! You always have a favourite! Except you probably like him for better reasons than me."

"Better?"

She shrugged sheepishly. "God of Lies? He's kind of hot."

Skulduggery just shook his head. Teenage girls obsessing about people years too old for them. What had his life become?

"Hey," Valkyrie said, punching him lightly in the arm. "I feel like some cheer-me-up food. Wanna get me some ice cream?"

"I'm not your personal slave, Valkyrie. No matter how badly you wish I was."

"I know," she said sweetly, batting her lashes.

"Not your slave." He said seriously.

Somehow he ended up getting that ice cream anyway. They had enjoyed two more movies after that, Valkyrie choosing both of them. She also managed to finish two large buckets of ice cream in that same time period. Skulduggery didn't know where she put it all. He lacked the organs needed to know why she seemed to need so much of the stuff.

The day was going great when things, as per usual, managed to find their way to hell towards the end of the second movie. It was called 'The Notebook' and was apparently a 'really good romantic movie that's about true love that never dies'. Valkyrie's words, not his.

It had been a good movie, Skulduggery would admit that. Well, a good movie for girls, maybe, but definitely not suited for men of his calibre. Still, it had to make him think. Mages like him and Valkyrie didn't grow old. They rarely had the chance to live in a home and be with their partner when they died. Not peacefully, at least. Most mortal lives ended with a whimper, not a bang. Sorcerers' ended with both. In battle. In humiliation. In pain.

Always alone.

Valkyrie seemed oblivious to any of these musings, but she had neglected to warn him that she would still burst in to tears as soon as the credits started rolling. And it truly had been like that. One moment she was fine, if a little quiet, and the next thing he knew, Skulduggery's imaginary ears were being subjected to the high-pitched wailing of a hormonal teen.

"It's just that nothing ever goes right!" she sobbed, drawing her knees closer. She looked up at him. "You know? It's all just: oh yay we saved the world, now here's another bloody crisis for you! You can handle the apocalypse, right? Because here's the fifth one you've tackled this week. I mean, I can't even talk to anyone, because there's my mum and dad and they don't even know!"

There was a knock at the door. They both ignored it. Valkyrie brought her hands up to her face, covered it with them.

"And Tanith's off on the other side of the world with Ghastly, trying to figure everything out. We killed my reflection, and hell, you know the other day I just got so sick of everything that I went to my sister? My little sister, while she was sleeping! I went on a tirade for pretty much ever."

She took in a deep, staggering breath. "It just sucks, Skulduggery. Life just sucks."

Whoever was at the door became more insistent; there were five sharp raps.

He leaned forward, felt awkward. How was he supposed to handle this? Put a hand on her shoulder. "You know you can always come to-"

She cut him off, whirling around to face him, still on the floor. "Who?" she demanded, "Who can I go to? Fletcher?" she bit out a mirthless laugh. "He's always busy. Wouldn't talk to me anyhow. It's so stupid! That's who you were going to say, right?"

She gave a mirthless laugh that was staggered with sobs.

Skulduggery was stunned. "Me." he said quietly, "I was going to say 'me'."

Valkyrie cast him a long, tear-filled glance before scrambling to her feet and rushing up the stairs. He held up an arm to reach for her, intending to do something he hadn't quite figured out yet.

"I'm so stupid!" she screamed from the floor above. He traced the noise of her stamping feet to her bedroom.

The sharp resonance of a door being slammed shut made its way towards the detective. Seconds later, it was followed by another one, this time coming from the first level of the house. Whoever had been knocking had let themselves in. Skulduggery didn't worry. He didn't have to strain himself to know who it was; the rhythm of their steps told him. They were coming closer.

Skulduggery didn't move from his position. Then, very slowly, he retracted his one outstretched hand back towards him. He straightened his tie and adjusted his hat just as a one golden-eyed man came into view.

"Well," said Erskine Ravel, "That sounded fun."

AN- So here's chapter 2. I've got about 10 000 words written of this so far, just need to edit it. If you've got any suggestions, whether it be about certain pairings, little scenes you want included, or ways to improve my writing, please leave a review. They're always welcome and I'll always listen!