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Chapter Text

Skulduggery stood back after she took her badge and surveyed her with good humour. They had just been officially declared as arbiters. She had signed a damn contract and everything. The occasion was less grand then Valkyrie had expected- although she hadn’t exactly planned for balloons and cake. She now realised with a jolt that, though Skulduggery and her had been a partnership- a unit- for years of her childhood, she had never been officially hired alongside him. They now had a professional label to their friendship; it was all very formal.

“We’re colleagues now,” Valkyrie told him as she pulled open the door to the Bentley and slid in.

“We’ve always been colleagues,” he replied smoothly, taking off the parking brake and reversing out of their space. His eye sockets were on his wing mirror, as they should have been, but Valkyrie had an inkling of a feeling that he was keeping his gaze out of hers on purpose, so she pressed the conversation-

“Yeah, but the sanctuary never, well, officially hired me as a detective did they? On account of me being a twelve year old girl when I started. You just took me under your wing and they went along with it. Nothing was in writing. I didn’t get, like, a wage or anything…”

“Was that what you were concerned about? A wage?” He laughed. “I already explained how we would be paid. You’re correct, though. You were never technically hired by the sanctuary. I would tell people you were on a sort of un-paid work experience, except even that means some form of governmental intervention.”

She turned around to scowl at him but he didn’t take his eyes off the road; “you told people I was on work experience?”

“Hmm. Well, not everyone. I told some people you just started following me and I couldn’t get you to stop.” She hit his arm and the car didn’t even swerve.

They sat in silence for a bit and she watched the sprawl of Roarhaven pass her through the window. It was only when she saw the tower of Corrival academy against the backdrop of the sky that she remembered and snapped her fingers, turning to Skulduggery- “Militsa invited us to karaoke night!” She said sheepishly. “I said you’d come. You don’t have to sing or anything- actually, i’d prefer it if you didn’t. It’s at Rockit’s Pub tomorrow night.”

He turned to her, but she wasn’t worried about him taking his eyes off the road- he had a sixth-sense when it came to driving. “Why on earth,” he said, with his voice full of chagrin, “would you say that I would come?”

She shrugged and smiled. “We’re partners aren’t we?”

“Fine.” He grumbled. “I have a voice like velvet anyway.”

///

She had been sitting in her kitchen deleting spam emails with Xena at her feet when Militsa came to pick her up in her battered car to drive her to Rockit’s. They arrived and Skulduggery was already sitting waiting for them in a corner, the shadows surrounding him and giving him a grim-reaper like appearance. They sat down opposite him, Militsa greeting him shyly. The place was packed. “Didn’t think it would be this busy,” Valkyrie muttered to Militsa, who shrugged apologetically and replied: “Neither did I. First round’s on me.” She turned to Skulduggery. “Can you… drink?”

Valkyrie was in the process of shaking her head when Skulduggery held up his finger and said “actually, China has been making modifications to my façade that would allow me to ingest small quantities of food or water, so I will have a cosmopolitan please.”

Valkyrie whipped her head round to look at him when Militsa headed for the bar. “How on earth does that work?!”

“I don’t know, Valkyrie, but that’s fine, because the author clearly doesn’t either.”

Valkyrie nodded like she understood: “China sure can weave plot convenient miracles, can’t she.”

Militsa brought the drinks back to the table and they watched drunk after drunk stand on the small podium in the centre of the packed bar floor and make fools of themselves. They laughed with people, at people, and didn’t realise how much of a lightweight Skulduggery was until he stumbled to his feet during an interlude and announced that ‘Tainted Love’ was his karaoke song.

Valkyrie wept and Militsa desperately tried to pull him back to the table, but Skulduggery, thankfully unrecognisable with his façade showing a blonde bearded man, tripped his way up to the free microphone via the man controlling the music. They both held their heads in their hands and kept their eyes wide open as Skulduggery took the stage and commanded- “Hit it!”

“Give us a second, i’m still putting the CD in.”

The opening pulse of the song beat through the bar and Skulduggery pulled the mic close, opening his mouth when-

The ceiling in front of Valkyrie’s table caved in, and a woman shot through; “Cain!” She shouted, diving straight toward Valkyrie. Valkyrie dove straight out of the way. People in the bar started to pull their phones out and Skulduggery stood dejectedly whilst ‘Tainted Love’ beat half-heartedly in the background.

Militsa was still sitting at the table, stiff with shock and the mystery woman pulled herself up and clambered over the seat and table inches from her.

“Who the hell are you?!” Valkyrie demanded, on her feet and fully ready to throw down.

“I,” shouted the woman, flourishing her hands, “Am Skulduggery’s dead wife, and first ex. We will fight to the death!”

“What? What!?” Valkyrie genuinely didn’t know what was happening. “Wha-“

“Don’t say ‘what’ another time! I’m with the league of Exes. We used to be known as the league of Evil Exes when this was used in a different story, but it’s been tailored for this particular situation.”

Valkyrie turned to Skulduggery; “What’s all this?” She demanded.

Skulduggery slumped to the floor and replied- “I assume… Now that we’re officially partners, you have to fight my seven exes; starting with my wife. Hello, by the way, dear.”
His wife ignored him and instead squared up to Valkyrie, who was still confused as hell. “Come closer!” She shouted to his wife, “I can barely make out your character from here!”

His wife bristled and some of the people that were recording the fight for snapchat, sensing a monologue coming up, started to pack up their things to leave the bar.

“Derek never focused on my character for more than three seconds, you insensitive slag, no wonder you couldn’t even describe me!” She yelled. “And don’t even get me started on our child!”

“Ah,” Skulduggery said from the floor, “I’d forgot about them.”

Skulduggery’s wife lunged at Valkyrie, who ducked back as punches were rained down upon her. She twisted out of the way and flung his wife to the floor by her arm, but before she could strike her with the blast of lightning that cavorted from behind the skin of her fingertips, she dived to the right, using a bar stool to pull herself back up.

Skulduggery’s wife used her non-specific magic to push Valkyrie back, but Valkyrie was beginning to see through her under developed fighting technique, and waited for the pause between blows before blasting Skulduggery’s wife back to the afterlife.

“Oh no,” Skulduggery said without much conviction. “My wife’s just fucking died again.”

Chapter Text

Skulduggery drove both himself and Valkyrie back to her mansion, convinced he couldn’t be pulled over for D.U.I, and Valkyrie didn’t object, sure that this man could get away with absolutely anything these days. When they arrived, Valkyrie shook her head and started to lay into him; “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything! We’re meant to be partners! Speaking of, we aren’t even dating, so why do I have to fight your exes? Didn’t have enough ex-partners for this story to work? For god’s sake, I have to fight seven of your exes?!” She was fuming, and stormed up her driveway.

“Calm down Valkyrie!” He called after her. “This isn’t even canon!”

“These bits aren’t even fucking funny!” She screamed back.

He shrugged, nonchalantly unplugged his seatbelt, and followed her into the house.

She started to calm down a bit as she leaned against her kitchen counter. Xena came to see her and she gave her head a scratch as Skulduggery leaned in the doorframe. “I would apologise,” Skulduggery said to her, “but it’s not as i’ve ever taken responsibility for my actions.”

Valkyrie nodded and understood, having regained her composure, and made herself a cup of tea which she nearly dropped when she saw Gordon standing in the hallway behind Skulduggery.

“Uncle Gordon! How’re you- what are you doing here?” Valkyrie said in disbelief, pushing past him. Skulduggery hovered behind her and cleared his throat. “We used to date,” he clarified.

“Yep,” Gordon concluded, “which makes me ex number two, but we both know you’d beat me hands down in a physical confrontation, so…” Gordon snapped his fingers like the thought had just occurred to him, “How about a battle of wits instead! A scary story telling contest! What do you say Valkyrie?”

Valkyrie was speechless; “How are you pulling people back from the dead left, right, and centre? And when did this happen?” She gaped at Skulduggery.

“A few months after me and him met. We eventually ended it mutually because we realised we’d be better with the label of good friends.”

“You could have been my uncle! And now I have to fight my real uncle!”

“Please don’t fight me!” Gordon chimed in.

Valkyrie turned to him as he settled himself down on the floor and she moved forward to sit across from him, Skulduggery behind her, offering little help or explanation for these lazily written occurrences.

“All my stories are based off things that really happened anyway, so this gives me an idea!” Gordon bragged, before beginning the battle and telling a terrifying tale about plot-lines being shoe-horned in to keep a book series afloat and make more money whilst the quality of the plot devolved. It was fucking horrifying, but Valkyrie reckoned she could do worse, and told a tale of something traumatic that happened in her childhood whilst she was under Skulduggery’s care. He nodded wistfully when she finished- “Ah, the good old times; when you were too much of a child’s book protagonist to realise that what was happening around you was really fucked.”

“Well shit!” Gordon said, before being dragged back to hell for writers, which was much worse than regular hell, after his brutal defeat.