Decided to upload this little collection of Christmassy fic for a friend. Happy holidays, everyone.

twelve

Say, lend me your coat.

There was someone tapping on Valkyrie's window. It was the irritating, consistent noise, one that tore you out of sleep and refused to give you back.

"I swear to God," the twelve year old muttered to herself, throwing the sheets off her head, "if that's anyone other than Santa Clause, I'm punching them in the face."

She'd punch the old man too, except she wasn't really eager for coal. Just the year before, the idea was laughable at best, but she was being extra careful, after Skulduggery had vaguely hinted that the man was a particularly ancient Adept.

She swung herself out of bed and yawned, putting her bare feet into black fuzzy slippers. Eleven on Christmas Eve was a new low for her partner of six months. Looking out of her window, she could see his black hat contrasting against the snow. She rubbed her eyes, trying to make her brain believe this was all a dream and she could go back to bed. Frowning, she yawned again, louder, and decided to just ignore him and call him tomorrow. She pressed her face against the window, to catch his gaze and say, all too clearly, "No way."

But there was a box next to him.

Wait. Was he giving her a Christmas Present?

Suddenly eager, Valkyrie undid the window's latch and pushed herself up by her arms, swinging herself onto the ledge. To be completely honest, she hadn't gotten him anything. Her legs dangled, the fleece pants and slippers nowhere near as effective as her black clothes. She hoped he didn't mind the lack of gift. Or retract her present. She was hit by a blast of cold air, and she used the gust to take herself down to Skulduggery. It was a clumsy and slow descent, but at least she hadn't crashed in the snow.

"H-h-hey," she stuttered, arms wrapped around her self. Goosebumps prickled up her forearms. Skulduggery stared at her, skull pointed down.

"Why, exactly, do your pants have snakes on them?" His smooth voice gave no sign of being effected by the chill.

"It's a H-h-Harry Potter thing," Her teeth chattered. "C-ca-can you just give me my p-present?"

He glanced at the box, then back at her. "It's not for you. And besides, it's still Christmas Eve."

"S-so?"

"Giving Christmas presents before the Twenty Fifth is nonsensical." He adjusted his hat with gloved hands. Valkyrie wished she had gloves. She thought her fingers were turning purple, though she could barely see them in the dim light.

"W-why are you d-dragging me out of bed on C-C-Christmas Eve, then?" She glared at him, arms forming tight armor over her torso.

"There's a man we need to interview. He'll only be in town for a few hours. It won't take long, but we'll need to hurry."

Skulduggery picked up the box, and started walking towards the Bentley.

He stopped when he realized she wasn't following.

"Why aren't you moving?"

"I think I'm stuck," She enunciated slowly.

Skulduggery sighed. "You are vastly exaggerating," he said, returning to her side. "But you getting frostbite would jeopardize this whole mission." Her took off his tan overcoat and suit jacket, swinging both around to rest on her shoulders. She snuggled into them gratefully. The suit jacket was lined on the inside, nice and warm, and the sleeves of the overcoat covered her hands entirely.

"Better," she said. "But my nose is still about to fall off."

He stared at her, letting her to imagine his less than pleased expression. But he pulled off his scarf anyways, wrapping it around the upper part of her face.

"You should just sleep in Ghastly's clothes," he said, pushing a strand of blackish-brown hair off her face. "Then I won't have to wait for you to change, either."

"No way," she said, voice muffled by the scarf. "Especially when I can just steal yours. It's not like you need them."

"I do too. I hope you know you may have cost us the interview, now that we both look unprofessional."

"You still have your hat." She muttered. "…Although," Valkyrie blinked up at him, "My ears are cold."

"No."

"My ears falling off means I won't be able to listen to your wonderful lectures and boasts."

"No means no," he said, and started walking towards the Bentley. Valkyrie grinned behind the grey scarf.

Later that evening, a somewhat baffled Erik Serendipity sat across from his interviewers, an underdressed skeleton and a young teenage girl wearing a suit jacket and Slytherin pajama pants.

And, at precisely midnight, he watched as the detective opened the box he had been toting all evening.

"Surprise. It is your present."