A/N: I don't own Valkyrie, China, or Skulduggery. I do however own a copy of the art described herein. Val is about 24 here, simply because this was my first story with her being 24. 'Black Roses Red' is an excellent song used in a Valduggery video, and 'Say It Isn't So' is a song by Hall and Oates you need to hear.
Valkyrie sighed, replacing the black fabric over the wall sculpture. Covered like that, you'd never suspect what it was. And hidden in the shadows behind her desk nobody noticed it. Not, she thought glumly, that I ever get any visitors. She and Skulduggery were still partners, but they worked together less and less. So now, to fill the lonely hours, she'd started writing drabbles online. She liked them and was quite good at it. It helped her not think about the new partner Skulduggery must have. Or him surely needing to see China.
Even after all China had done to him, he'd still used her as a source and Valkyrie was no child anymore. She recognized the looks he gave her. Stop it. She scolded herself. No good ever came from thinking like that.
She also knew if Skulduggery ever saw the 'art' behind her, he'd put two and two together as well. But she never had told him. Clearly China was closer to him in age, even if she did help murder his family. Plus China had implied at their first meeting she had a past with Skulduggery. Did he cheat on his wife? Valkyrie shook her head. The story was going nowhere tonight, she shut off the computer and leaned back to rub her eyes. She heard a rustle of fabric behind her, and whirled around, leaping out of the chair to land deftly in a fighting position.
But it had only been the covering on the art falling down. The skeleton swain grinned down at her, mocking her. His lover wrapped around him from behind. It was supposed to be memorial art. Memorial art her right eye. It was 'Death and the Maiden' redone. She just couldn't face it anymore, seeing what she couldn't ever have. She'd bought the stupid thing years ago when she first realized how she felt, had kept it hidden away all these years. Now she had to hide it in darkness. It was better off gone, blotted from existence.
She flicked her You Tube account back on, went to a song, 'Black Roses Red'. As it played she simply stared at the art, then splayed out her hand towards it. There was a soft sigh, and it blew apart into dust. The dust swirling on the air she manipulated and into the fireplace. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. She though, bitterly. Now he would never know, and it would be OK that he didn't call her anymore, or so much as visit. She dug in her desk, found the one photo she had of them together.
She clicked her fingers, drew flame. She tossed the photo on the neatly stacked wood of the fireplace and watched it burn. The song had ended and she saw a suggested video on the screen. 'Say It Isn't So.'