A/N: I don't own Skulduggery, Valkyrie's reflection, or Valkyrie. Val is still 24, still her POV. Fun fact: the sunken sub really happened in the US Civil War.

Down in the kitchen Skulduggery listened to his mobile, frowning. He nodded several times, grunting, then hung up and turned to me, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "As of yet no new leads. We aren't needed for today, so we have the day off it would seem."

"Who were you talking to."

"Ghastly."

"You grunted at him. You must love working at the Sanctuary."

"What? He knows me."

I shook my head. "Training then?"

"Well, maybe-"

"Aren't you well?"

"I'm fine, I just don't feel like kicking my partner today. But I will if she insists."

"No, that's OK, I know what you mean. I don't feel like hitting you either. There's a whole mansion to explore if you want, I've never been in a lot of the rooms."

"Perhaps. Or we could go for a drive if you like."

"That does sound more interesting. Where to?"

"How about the diner where you threw my back out with your driving?"

"Miss the waitress already?" I teased.

Skulduggery picked up his hat that he'd set on the table and dusted invisible lint off it of before putting it on. "Yes, that's it exactly. I suppose she'll take pity on me and serve me coffee this time. She just won't admit to our love, shy girl that she is."

I smiled and got up. "Lead the way. When her biker boyfriend with no neck and tattoo sleeves shows up I'll be sure to tell him of your undying love for her. I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

"Now, now Valkyrie. Jealousy is unbecoming in a lady. I'll be sure to send you postcards from wherever our honeymoon takes us."

"Wow, a stakeout in a van, with Ghastly fuming in the driver's seat and Tanith not shutting up. Sounds like heaven."

Skulduggery made a clucking sound and guided me out to the Bentley. I got in, watching as he prowled around her, looking for damage. "Not a scratch." He said as he got in, sounding surprised. "Seat belt."

"I knew if I scratched her it would be my doom. That or you'd go after Christine with a spanner."

"I don't know where you get these ideas, Valkyrie. I am a peaceful man."

"Which is why you carry a gun."

"We live in dangerous times, Valkyrie."

"That we do, expecially where your Bentley is involved."

"Our Bentley. She's our car. You managed to drive her home in one piece, so I know you care about her. Unlike poor Christine."

"Christine is a car that likes to go out and do exciting things. She sulks if I don't take her out for fun."

"She has a strange idea of fun."

"Oh, that was nothing. You should see it when we jump bridges as they're being raised."

"Tell me you're kidding."

"Of course I am. She's a 50 Chevy, she doesn't get air time."

"I don't even want to know how you found that out."

"Neither did the harbour master, but the water cleaned out of her seats really well."

"You drove off a dock?"

"Well, technically the brakes failed and I more or less shot off the dock, but yes, same thing."

"How didn't I know about this?"

"False ID."

"Clever girl. Bad partner, but clever girl. You're going to make some man very happy some day."

"Oh please." I scoffed.

Skulduggery glanced over. "You find marriage repellant?"

"Who's going to marry me, Skulduggery? I'm the crazy girl that does 180s on the highway and drives my car off of docks."

"Woman, and you'll find beautiful goes a long way to make up for crazy. Besides, some men like a little lunacy in their wives, it keeps things interesting." I groaned and sat back in the seat. We listened to the radio the rest of the way, Skulduggery humming to himself. We pulled in, seemingly with the same cars in the lot from the day before.

Inside the waitress grinned at me. "Well hello, there. Glad to see you brought your friend back with you. Coffee?" I nodded and we sat down in a window booth. She poured and continued. "Where's that pretty little gal of yours?"

"Home, resting. She had a big day yesterday."

"That's a shame, she sure is pretty, hope she feels better soon. She's right prettier than the car you came in today. Be back for your order, hon."

Skulduggery made a strangled sound. I ordered a burger when she returned and tried to restore the Bentley's honor. "That is a Bentley, you know. Only two hundred and eight of them were ever made." The waitress was not impressed.

"I guess they just didn't sell well. No telling what some people will drive. Order will be up soon, let me know if you need anything." She said cheerfully. Skulduggery made another strangled sound.

"Skulduggery, I love that car like she's my own daughter. But parents of exceptional children have to accept other people won't always see how truly exceptional they are. Besides." I continued cheerfully. "The waitress is the woman you're in love with. You aren't going to let a little thing like her taste in cars get in the way of true love, are you?"

"I hate you."

"That's my line."

Skulduggery huffed. My burger came and the waitress set the bill down, but not before eyeing the Bentley and shaking her head. "My granddaddy had an old car like that. Used it as a chicken coop."

I smiled and nodded as she left, then slapped my hand over my mouth when I saw the tension in Skulduggery's shoulders. "Not a word, Valkyrie, not a word." He said, before picking up the bill. After I ate he managed to stroll out of the diner with what was left of his dignity, greatly offended. "I hope you enjoyed that burger because we're never coming back here again."

"Oh, Skulduggery. I'm sure she loves you in her own special way."

He shot me an offended look. "Get in, or I'll leave you here."

"Skulduggery-"

He waved a hand and I got in. "Seat belt." He said stiffly.

"Skulduggery, anyone who can't tell custom-built doesn't know the first thing about cars."

"True."

"She probably can't even spell Bentley." I offered.

"She probably can't spell Chevy. Or cat." He said bitterly.

"You could spot her the C and the T."

"Once again I'm glad you're on my side."

"I'm always on your side, even when we're arguing. It's like the North and South in the American Civil War, she'd appreciate the analogy."

"The what now?" He asked, pulling out.

"The Japanese sent a sub prototype over to attack the South. The North sank it."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope, we learned it in world history. Or my reflection learned it. She was nice until she went crazy and you killed her."

"Well, she was going to kill you first, and I'd always liked you better than her. A tad."

"Charming, that."

"I'm always charming."

"You're always annoying."

"But apparently I'm the South to your North. My, that doesn't sound right coming from an Irishman. Forget the analogy."

"Analogy well taken. I assumed we were still on American soil."

"How come we never meet any nice Americans?" Skulduggery grumbled.

"Because the nice ones don't go abroad. They stay home and mind their own business like everyone else."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"We're detectives, we don't mind our own business, but most people find it very relaxing."

"Most people are crazy." He muttered. We bantered back and forth on the drive back to his house, Skulduggery having made the decision for what he called practical reasons. No mention of my going home to Gordon's was made a fact we were both silently thankful for. Even we could be thankful, even if we never said it.

I know, for Valduggery it has been a light romance, but it is there if you look for it. He will kiss her again, give the man time. Skulduggery can't be backed into his traces, you know.