Call me worms.

Or magic, which ever you prefer.

"I need a weapon," Valkyrie muttered.

"You're an Elemental with a Necromancer ring, trained in a variety of martial arts by some of the best fighters in the world," Skulduggery pointed out. "I'm fairly certain that makes you a weapon."

"I mean a weapon you can hold. You have a gun, Tanith has a sword...I want a stick."

"I'll buy you a stick for Christmas."

.ii.

"Was it a test?" she asked. "I mean, I know I'm still new to this. I'm still the rookie. Did you hang back to test me, to see if I'd be able to handle it alone?"

"Well, kind of," he said. "Actually, no, nothing like that. My shoelace was untied. That's why I was late. That's why you were alone."

"I could've been killed because you were tying your SHOELACE?"

"An untied shoelace can be dangerous," he said. "I could have tripped."

She stared at him. A moment dragged by.

"I'm joking," he said at last.

She relaxed. "Really?"

"Absolutely. I would never have tripped. I'm far too graceful."

.ii.

"Doors are for people with no imagination."

.II.

"The thing about growing up with Fred and George," said Ginny thoughtfully, "is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."

.ii.

"Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"You called her a liar?"

"Yes."

Professor McGonagall sat down befind her desk, frowning at Harry. Then she said, "Have a biscuit, Potter."

"Have - what?"

.ii.

"...It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well."

.II.

Seriously, who curses you with their dying breath and says: I hope your eye twitches!

.ii.

"Well done, Frank Zhang," Leo said dryly, doing his impression of Chiron the centaur. "That is exactly how people beat Chinese handcuffs. They turn into iguanas."

.ii.

Also, he was reluctant to share his one clear memory: Annabeth's face, her blonde hair and grey eyes, the way she laughed, threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss whenever he did something stupid.

She must have kissed me a lot, Percy thought.

.II.

John: Are you wearing any pants?

Sherlock: No.

John: Okay.

.ii.

Sherlock: Shut up.

Lestrade: I didn't say anything!

Sherlock: You were thinking. It's annoying.

.ii.

"Get out, I need to go to my Mind Palace."

.II.

Skulduggery Pleasant.

Harry Potter.

Percy Jackson.

BBC Sherlock.

These are my main fanfiction roots, and if you haven't any interest in these, then I suggest you go see them, or live your life knowing what great things you missed. . . . .

I'm getting ahead of myself. The point is, I write complex and long stories. If your looking for a short, simple fanfiction, you're looking in the wrong place.

(You are allowed to cry after these words I give you:)

John, I don't have friends. I've just got one.

.ii.

Then Percy let go of his tiny ledge, and together, holding hands, he and Annabeth fell into the endless darkness.

.ii.

After all this time?

Always.

.ii.

Until the end.