Something bright and blinding fought against Valkyrie's shut eyelids. She groaned and turned over, snatching a pillow and burying her aching head beneath it. Sunlight, she thought blearily.

After a few minutes, and when the tight space below the pillow had grown hot and suffocating, Valkyrie judged that it was probably time to get up.

She slid one bare foot to the cool floor and rolled from the bed. Instantly, her stomach heaved and her head whirled. She moaned and clutched at her temples, made the mistake of opening her eyes, and wheezed with pain as a spike of light stabbed into her brain.

A neatly folded pile of clothes sat on the floor at the foot of the bed. Valkyrie looked at it, then cautiously stuck out a foot to flip it up off the floor, not trusting her balance if she were to lean down.

She picked up the sweater from the pile and sniffed it. The soft grey cotton smelled of fresh detergent, but there was an undertone of something else, something almost alluring. Valkyrie shrugged and pulled off her protective jacket, dragged on the sweater, deciphering the lettering in the front to read as an advertisement for Lonsdale. The scent of it enveloped her as she snuggled down into the unfamiliar garment, and suddenly it dawned upon her: cologne.

Everything rushed back. Evan. The bar. Bringing her home. Valkyrie looked about her, taking in the cream colored walls and the small twin-sized bed in the center, the skylight windows above.

So it was Evan's sweater then. Also included in the pile was a pair of black fleece sweatpants. These too Valkyrie pulled on, rolling up the bottoms so that she could walk and tightening the drawstring.

She felt a bit strange, wearing his clothes, but his divine scent nestled in every fold of the cloth, and she couldn't help but close her eyes as she inhaled deeply.
Valkyrie, you only met him yesterday.
She walked to the door, smiling slightly.
He's just a distraction. You have a purpose, you know.
She glanced quickly at the mirror, brushed at her hair.
Yes, I know he's really attractive.
Valkyrie breathed in to calm sudden butterflies and stepped out into the hallway.
Just be sensible, okay?
She padded down the corridor into a small and warmly lit kitchen, wincing slightly at the brightness.

Evan sat at a stool, reading a newspaper with a mug of what smelled like coffee steaming in easy reach. His plaid pyjamas bottoms and robe made him seem cosy and comfortable. He looked up and a smile spread across his face and Valkyrie's heart pounded.

His eyes shone, gleaming green, and his blonde hair caught the light. In the pure morning sun, she was seeing even more clearly than the prior night, and it just got better.

"Good morning," he said.

She smiled shyly and made her way over to where he was sitting. "Hey."

"How're you feeling?"

All of Valkyrie's aches and pains made themselves known again and she groaned.

Evan's face creased with concern, but he laughed a little.

"Sorry, you're probably figuring out just how bad exactly a hangover is."
She put her face in her hands and groaned again.

Evan got up and moved towards the coffee maker. "Coffee?"

"Actually, do you have orange juice or something?"

He pulled open the fridge and selected a carton of juice. Valkyrie made to go fetch a glass, but he stopped her with a gesture and got it himself. She smiled her gratitude as he poured for her and set the glass in front of her.

Evan sat back down and looked at her, those eyes making her body tremble.

She self-consciously reached for the orange juice and took a sip, feeling his gaze upon her. With a nervous cough, she swallowed then asked, "You're used to the hangover effects, then?"

Evan opened his mouth to answer when a sudden crash outside shot through the air. Valkyrie jumped and knocked the glass over. It shattered and orange juice spilled across the counter-top.

Instantly they were both on their feet, Valkyrie apologizing profusely as Evan assured her she was fine, creating a tangle of words between the two. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry," Valkyrie mumbled, face burning, "Let me clean this up for you at least."

Evan's hands were making calming gestures in the air, his eyes wide and sincere. "Val. Honest. It's not your fault."

She rolled her eyes slightly, and he stepped towards her, laughter in his face.

Her heart rate sped up.

The sweater had slipped off one of her shoulders in the commotion, and those green eyes fixated on the exposed skin. They subtly flashed up and down the length of her body. She sucked in a breath.

Evan looked right at her. His face, edged with sunlight, had a new expression on it.
Valkyrie looked back. She had to fight for breath.

His lips parted slightly.

He walked, slowly, closer her.

"Ev-"

He took her face in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth.

Evan leaned back to survey her reaction. She took but a moment for a startled breath, and then dragged him back in for a searing kiss, lips clinging to his, faces tight together. Evan wound his hands into her hair, and she clasped her hands to his neck, pulling him closer, and closer still. His mouth was hard and urgent against hers, and the kiss was deepening fast as he walked her back towards the pantry. Valkyrie fumbled for the tie of his coat and pushed it open, resting her fingers against his thin t-shirt, and Evan made a little noise in his throat. His burning, feverish hands slid to caress her shoulders, and then to support her as she wrapped her legs about his waist and kissed him from above, mouth open and unresisting. As his lips began to travel away, along her jaw and down her throat, Valkyrie let her head loll back and revelled in the sensations converging in her body.

In the background, the orange juice dripped slowly off the edge of the counter, making a pool on the floor.


Valkyrie had a sensation of falling back into herself from a great height. She had been drifting, letting her body react as her mind disengaged, but a thought that she had been trying to suppress had gotten loose and she had been dragged back down.

Valkyrie shifted uncomfortably beneath Evan's weight. His lips and fingers and body and merely his nearness felt like they were suffocating her. She needed out. In a sudden spasm, Valkyrie shuddered, fighting the urge to lash out indiscriminately. This time, Evan felt her change of moods and drew back to look at her. She turned her face away to hide sudden tears.

"Valkyrie?"

She shook her head mutely and moved out from under him, picked up the sweater from the end of the bed, dragged it over her head. Evan looked at her, confusion and hurt all over his features. He looked so beautiful, that angelic face and body, as he sat, shirtless, sheets tangled about him, looking for all the world like an artist's still-life setup. He didn't deserve to be hurt like this.

She turned to go and he cried out, caught her hand. He said her name. Valkyrie shook her head again, broke away, and walked from the room.

She could hear Evan scrambling after her, and she broke for the front door.

Valkyrie flung the door open.

There was a man standing on the doorstep.

A tall, slim man with unfocused eyes and waxy skin.

A man wearing a pinstriped suit and a fedora.

Skulduggery.

Valkyrie's world condensed into a series of frozen snapshots. The air she breathed became like ice; it pierced her lungs and froze her heart.

His gaze met hers.

With a strangled cry, she whipped the small box-like rectangular object from where it nestled at the base of her spine, tucked into the back of her trousers. It flattened and changed shape as she hit a button, and mutated into a pistol. Valkyrie shot him, full in the chest.

Evan's arms wrapped around her from behind, forcing her aim off, and the second bullet went awry, spraying chips of brick as it contacted the wall.

Skulduggery kept on walking forward, and Evan was holding the pistol away from her and shouting, "What the hell, Valkyrie, what the hell," and the man who killed her sister was reaching out for her and she wasn't breathing and her blood was screaming through her veins and...

She collapsed back into Evan, eyes rolling up into her head.


Sorry for the wait! Hope you find this one interesting, and sorry also if you're squeamish about kissing. And shooting people in the chest. Yeahh.

Another thing. Our dear friend NightcatMau has deleted her FanFic account, and we're all going to miss her a bunch. i'd just like to dedicate this one to her, for all of her inspiring writing.

And also to realtawit for being patient!