A/N: So this is another two-part story. I was inspired by a fic written by Chaos Valkryie called "White Magical Hat," and Rozzyrox's first chapter of "Dead Man's Drabbles." More will be explained in the second part later.

Val: age 19


Baby's breath is for festivity, larkspur for a beautiful spirit…

Valkyrie gazed around the crowded ballroom, searching for someone, anyone, who seemed familiar. However, this proved to be exceedingly more difficult than she had anticipated, since she had arrived alone to a magical masquerade ball.

She leaned against the back wall of the ballroom and sighed. Normally she had a lot of fun at China's annual Halloween masquerade, but this year seemed so… dull. It was probably because he wasn't here. She always had more fun when he was around.

But China told her he was over in the United States for some obscure reason or another, and that he couldn't make it this year. Why was it Valkyrie had to ask China whenever she didn't know where he was? Jerk.

It was too bad; China had done a wonderful job decorating the top floor of the apartment building this year. Dark wood flooring so shiny you could see your reflection paneled the floor, the walls painted a creamy yellow that burned almost gold as the candles in the massive chandeliers in the ceiling shone on them—a replica of an eighteenth-century ballroom. But when you're a powerful mage with connections, you can make things like that happen.

Valkyrie sighed again as she fingered the fabric of her dress. Although she was not a girly-girl and would rather spend an afternoon with Scapegrace than wear a dress, she rather liked the one Tanith helped her find.

The gown was strapless, and the bodice solid black with the skirt fading to a pearly-gray as the hem graced the floor. A sheer silver scarf was wound around her shoulders in an attempt to cover a bit more skin, and a silver chain strung with a purple stone hung just above the bodice. Her mask, compared to most, was simple: a shiny, thick piece of black plastic spattered with silver paint that only covered her eyes and cheekbones.

"Val?"

"Tanith!" Valkyrie cried as a woman strolled up and embraced her. "Wow, Tanith. You look beautiful!"

Tanith Low cut a rather stunning figure in her knee-length, tight-fitting gold gown. Her blonde hair was pinned up in an elaborate knot, her hazel eyes glinting out from behind a sparkly purple mask.

"You clean up nice too, Val. Getting all dolled up for someone special?" Tanith grinned and winked suggestively at her.

Valkyrie felt her cheeks grow hot beneath her mask. "Eww, Tanith," she groaned. "All the men here are like, four times my age."

Tanith shrugged. "I like older men," she replied simply.

The small orchestra set up on a dark stage suddenly launched into a slower, eerie tune, the lilting notes thoroughly adding to the spooky air of the night and the ball.

"Don't worry," Tanith whispered. "As two single women, we have to stick together."

"Right," she agreed.

Seconds later however, a man in a deep green suit with tousled black hair and a thick London accent appeared and with a brief greeting swept her into his arms, leaving Valkyrie stranded in her corner and once again alone.

She should have expected this to happen. After all, Tanith was young and beautiful, even when a gaudy mask concealed half her face, so it wasn't much of a shock when she was carried off. Oh well; Valkyrie wasn't much of a dancer anyway…

"Excuse me, miss?"

Valkyrie looked up. A tall, thin man, garbed in a black tuxedo, white gloves, and a navy-blue mask, stood before her. He had dark hair cascading over the top, the thin lips perched just above his angular jaw quirked upward.

After glancing him up and down, Valkyrie decided she could do worse. "Yes?"

He extended a gloved hand. "Care to dance, pretty lady?"

His voice sounded strangely familiar, but it couldn't belong to him. Then again, it wasn't like he and China hadn't lied to her before... But it couldn't be...

Could it?

"It's actually a rather simple question." The man's condescending tone roughly drew her attention back to him. "Yes or no. Pick one."

Valkyrie smirked. "Then I pick no."

"Oh. That's too bad." Before she could turn back to her people-watching, his hand was on her wrist and he was dragging her out to the dance floor. "Too bad I won't take no for an answer."

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed, trying to break his viselike grip.

"Ignoring you. We're dancing." He plucked her hand from his wrist and clapped it to his shoulder, then placed his free hand on her waist. The other he kept firmly grasped so as she couldn't escape. And then he began to lead.

Valkyrie struggled for a few moments, but the man shook his head at her attempts. "What makes you think I'm going to let you go so easily?" he murmured next to her ear. Although it was a tad strange, his warm breath relaxed her and she started to enjoy the waltz, which was strange in itself.

"Did you cast a spell on me?" she asked, arching a dark brow.

He chuckled, but shook his head. "I don't need to. All I need to keep you in check is physical strength. Just relax. Go with the music."

Rolling her eyes skeptically, she exhaled and shook her limbs slightly in an effort to enhance her enjoyment of the music. To her astonishment, it worked, as she realized she fit rather snugly in this man's arms and that she was perfectly content to allow him to lead her through the steps.

"You have blue eyes," she remarked suddenly as he released one hand to grasp her leg and throw her into a deep dip.

"You're very observant. Has anyone ever told you that you'd make a good detective?"

"I am a detective."

"Ah." He brought her back up and readjusted his hands. "That explains it then."

Releasing her waist, he spun her beneath his long fingers, twirling her like a ballerina. "You look beautiful tonight Valkyrie."

Valkyrie blushed beneath the black plastic of her mask as he stopped the spin and they faced each other again. "While the unnecessary flattery is earning you extra brownie points," she murmured, "I don't think it's fair that you know my name, but I don't know yours."

His smirk widened. "You know it Valkyrie," he replied, his night-sky blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

"But I don't know you."

"Oh, you know me all right. Just think back and you'll remember."

Valkyrie frowned; she never did care for riddles. Loud applause drowned out the protest forming on her tongue though, and the man dropped her hands to clap at the brilliant rendition of the song.

A shimmer of gold appeared in her peripheral vision, and Valkyrie turned just in time to have an arm slip through a crooked elbow. Tanith, tugging along her new beau, giggled excitedly in her ear.

"That was great Val! You should've seen yourself, you looked beautiful out there! Who was that man, anyway?"

A sudden jolt of alarm shot through her as she realized the man had disappeared in the crowd. Freeing her arm and muttering apologies, she darted in between the couples dotting the floor, searching the crowd for a brown hair and black suit. She spotted him suddenly as he fiddled with the handle of the door leading into the hallway and, gripping her skirt in her fists, she ran after him.

Flying through the door, she glanced around as panic began to rise in her throat. There! She saw the coattails of his tuxedo as he disappeared through another door, this one marked 'ROOF.'

Frowning in confusion rather than consternation, Valkyrie pulled open the door and ran up the staircase as fast as her two-inch-heels would allow. It was a short flight of stairs, thankfully, and then she was flinging open a third door and stepping out into the crisp night air.

The moon, merely a splinter of pearl in the last few days of its cycle, glowed eerily between dark clouds, barely lit the cold roof of the apartment building, the corners still shrouded in dark shadows. She saw the man slowly striding toward the edge and, clutching her skirt again, she tripped after him.

"Wait!"

The man turned. "Valkyrie?" he said, as if he couldn't quite believe she was there.

Valkyrie stopped in front of him and paused, catching her breath. When she could speak again, she simply repeated the word from before:

"Wait."

"I have to go Valkyrie," the man murmured, bowing his head.

She frowned and took a step closer. "What do you mean? Why do you have to go? You just got here."

"Because the spell ends at midnight."

She arched a dark brow. "What are you, Cinder-fella?"

"Valkyrie…"

She didn't like that tone of voice. It was sad, pleading with her, begging her to understand. But she didn't, so she reached out and clutched his arm. "But I still don't know who you are!"

He smiled grimly. "I am exactly who I appear to be Valkyrie."

"That's not an answer! You sound just like my partner! Why can't you just—"

She hadn't realized he was closing the distance between them, that he was leaning closer even as she was ranting about his inability to answer questions. The sudden, lingering kiss the man pressed to her mouth when there was no space between them caused the sentence to die in her throat and all trains of thought to promptly derail. And when he barely tilted his head to set their lips at a slightly different angle, the electricity that shot through her entire body left her weak-kneed and breathless, clutching at the lapels of his jacket to remain upright.

Just as suddenly as the kiss started, the man was pulling back and turning away from her, taking all his wonderful warmth with him. Valkyrie had never felt so chilled in her life. She looked around desperately, aching for the man's presence and warm embrace.

But the man had already vanished.

She sighed dismally, willing herself not to cry. Why was it the guys she ended up falling for left her in the end?

Turning to exit the roof and return to the party that seemed even more dull and drab than before, she hesitated and glanced back at where the man had stood and kissed her. But that wasn't the only thing she saw there.

Stepping closer to investigate, she wrapped her shaking fingers around a navy-blue mask, one she wished was still hovering before eyes of the same color. The moon cast a shaft of light down onto the ledge of the apartment building just then, gleaming off something small, round, and gold.

Picking it up between two fingers to examine it more closely, Valkyrie saw it was a cufflink. Her brown eyes widened with shock as she turned the little piece of metal in her hand. A gasp escaped her throat and she clapped a hand to her mouth to stop the sob threatening to leak out as she collapsed to the roof in a heap of black and gray fabric.

Engraved upon the little blob of gold were the initials 'S.P.'

age 19