Traffic [Valduggery, Skulduggery Pleasant Fanfiction]

Movies

Valkyrie looked at him, mouth threatening to grin, but she had the horrifying feeling that Skulduggery was being serious. She looked down at the man, now unconscious in her hands, then back up to Skulduggery.

"The movies?"

Skulduggery smashed an elbow into a woman's face. Once, twice. "Yes. It's that remake, of that—"

"Oh. Oh, no, Skulduggery, you really don't want to." Valkyrie punched a man's throat, and he fell to his knees, and she kneed him under the chin. "It's... Remakes aren't... No."

Skulduggery observed the fallen foes around them. Not really foes. More like guards that were really rubbish at their jobs. He led on through the movie studio.

It was dark and empty and Valkyrie's footsteps echoed. Abandoned sets—a desert, a throne, an airplane—scattered around, half rotting, decrepit. It would have been creepy had they not just beaten up a bunch of wanna' be actors.

"I don't have anyone to go with."

Valkyrie laughed at him. He looked at her, and she stopped, but she was still grinning.

"What were movies like, when they first came out?"

Skulduggery held a hand out, reading the air. But all of the shit guards were behind them. Now, it was just finding the big boss. Valkyrie looked up to the rafters, to the pigeons roosting there. She kicked an abandoned Viking helmet.

"They were silent, and it was mainly slapstick."

"No, like, what were they like? Original?"

"Awfully hard not to be original when there were literally no other movies to copy from."

"But they had heart, right? Soul?" Valkyrie wiggled her fingers. "They tried to be cool and unique and funny or heart-wrenching. Movies now? Not so much."

Skulduggery laughed. "I wouldn't have thought you would be cynical about movies of all things. I just want to see the remake. I saw it a couple of years ago."

"... Skulduggery, it's a remake of Casablanca. You're going to be really, really disappointed."

"Nonsense!" Skulduggery put a skip in his step.

"No, listen. I've seen remakes. I've seen movies. Remember that one time you were trying to find your arm and I said I was sick? When I said I wasreally sick? I wasn't. I went with Tanith to see the Star Wars remake."

Skulduggery looked at her. Up ahead, there was chanting and the shudder of cameras recording. But Skulduggery was looking at her.

"I was in a swamp, looking for my arm, and you were watching a movie?"

"Focus," Valkyrie said. "The important thing to gather from this is that I saw the remakes and Skulduggery, buddy, they were really bad."

"Did you just call me 'buddy?'"

"They were horrific. Tanith had to leave the theater. She had to step out, and I had to make sure she hadn't run off, because that's how bad it was. She was just sort of standing there, this, like, lost look in her eyes."

"I feel as though you're exaggerating."

"The sad thing is that I'm not. You don't want to see the remake. Did you like Casablanca?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Well enough so that I want to see it retold in color."

"You don't. Because then the movie will be ruined for you. You might see the new one, think it's okay, but then you'll rewatch the original and you'll just..." Valkyrie's eyes were on Skulduggery, but she was looking beyond him. Looking somewhere horrible. "You'll feel empty."

The chanting had stopped, but Skulduggery tilted his head.

"Stop smiling."

"Valkyrie, I wanted you to take me to the movies, and you've basically just told me I'm going to lose an important part of myself. It's just a movie."

A man stepped out of the dark. He was grand, with a mustache and a cape and a really ridiculous pair of red boots. Valkyrie looked at him.

"Welcome, Pleasant and Cain," he began.

"Oi," Valkyrie called, "what do you think of remakes?"

The man, who was planning on filming a magical offering to the Faceless Ones and then releasing it to the BBC, blinked at them. There were frantic shouts for help from whoever they were supposed to be saving, but Valkyrie wasn't worried if the cameras weren't rolling.

"Remakes?"

"Movie remakes, you know." Valkyrie jabbed a finger at Skulduggery. "He wants to see the remake of Casablanca."

The man pulled a face. "Oh."

Valkyrie turned to Skulduggery. "I told you."

"Shut up, the both of you."

They did end up going to see the remake of Casablanca. Valkyrie fell asleep within the first twenty minutes, mainly because they had just finished beating up the fellow with the red boots and saving the poor extra who was going to be sacrificed.

Skulduggery had sat, disguise on, in silence, Valkyrie's head on his shoulder as she slept.

He jerked and she sat up, blinking at the dark, deserted surroundings. She looked at the credits, grabbed a handful of popcorn.

"So?"

Underneath the wig and the scarf and sunglasses, Valkyrie couldn't see his expression.

Oh, there was something. His whole head moved forward a fraction, like he was releasing a breath, and his shoulders slumped slightly.

"You hated it!" Valkyrie pointed at him. "I told you! I told you! It was shit, wasn't it? It was."

"I want to go home."

"You're going to rewatch the original. I know what you're going to do. And you're going to feel empty."

"You're really annoying."