Chapter Text
“How was it?” Lockwood asked the moment Lucy appeared in the kitchen doorway, trying to pretend like he hadn’t been there for the last hour and a half, eagerly awaiting her return.
Mary, leaning up against the counter with Susannah on her hip, snorted.
Lucy passed a hand over her face, looking pale and tired. “Good.” she said briefly. “How were the interviews?”
He’d made the decision to hire a new generation of agents and keep Lockwood & Co. going the week before, when they’d officially officially submitted their Loss of Talent paperwork to Barnes.
“Hired one,” he said. “Has good Touch, and Sight. Gonna give him Jessica’s room.”
“I can still find a place,” she offered, not for the first time. “If you need my room for one of the new hires.”
“No,” he said emphatically. They’d already had this discussion on a number of occasions. “I don’t want you moving out unless it’s what you actually want. Like George.” George had moved in with Flo the month previous, a change which was hardly noticeable given the amount of time he spent at Portland Row still.
“I could find a place with Mary,” Lucy suggested.
“You don’t wanna do that,” Mary chided. “You’d be up in the middle of the night with Susannah, and you’d never get any peace and quiet to revise for your exams.”
“It’s your room,” he said definitively. “For as long as you want it.”
“Thanks,” she smiled again. “I’m gonna go take a bath, I think.”
“Yeah,” Lockwood said. “Don’t be surprised if you run into the new kid. He’s officially moving in next week, but I told him he could start moving his things in early, and he showed up twenty minutes ago with approximately eighty six boxes.”
“Yeah, sure, okay,” she said, already halfway out of the kitchen, not really paying attention.
“So…” Lockwood said, turning slowly to look at Mary.
“I don’t know, man,” she said, shrugging. “But it’s so not my problem. You still good to take Susannah tonight?”
“Yeah,” he said, reaching for the baby, who was now a whole eight and a half months old, and was also thoroughly consumed in the examination of an iron bell clutched in her pudgy little fist.“Hot date?” he asked on reflex and then wrinkled his nose, remembering that her hot date was in actuality Kipps. “Nevermind, forget I asked. Ugh. Anyway, Susannah here is gonna have a great night with her godfather, and you are never ever going to mention any of the things you and Kipps get up to in your free time. Agreed?”
“Oh, you are so getting a play by play,” Mary said. “Thanks though, honestly. See you two in the morning!” She leaned in to press a kiss to Susannah’s head, and then disappeared down the hallway.
* * *
“Is that a baby?” Soren asked incredulously, appearing in the library doorway some time later. Lockwood, Susannah napping on his chest, shushed him. “I didn’t know you had a baby,” Soren continued, in a loud whisper.
“She’s my goddaughter,” Lockwood said. “She doesn’t live here, but you’ll see her around pretty often.”
“Oh, that’s cool,” Soren shrugged. He was a bit of an odd kid, Lockwood couldn’t quite get a read on him. “Did you know there’s a girl upstairs?”
“That’ll be Lucy. She’s great, you’ll meet her soon, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, um,” Soren paused. “Right. Did you know she’s crying?”
“What?”
“Yeah, she seemed pretty upset.”
“How are you with babies, Soren?” Lockwood asked.
“What?”
“How are you with babies? You know how to hold one?”
“I mean, yeah, in theory, but I haven’t—”
“Wonderful,” Lockwood said, standing. “Sit there.” He deposited Susannah in the boy’s arms. “Do not move from that spot. Do not wake her up. If anything happens to her, you’re fired immediately and will never work as an agent in this city again. We clear?”
“Yes,” Soren looked at the baby in wide eyed terror. “What if she wakes up on her own?”
“She’s a great sleeper,” Lockwood assured him. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But—”
“You’ll do great, Soren!”
And he left the boy there, Susannah drooling happily on his shoulder.
Lucy was just coming out of the bathroom when he reached the landing. Her hair was damp and her face was red and blotchy, as though she had indeed been crying.
“Hey,” he said, awkwardly. The moment Soren had told him that Lucy had been crying he’d charged up here without thinking. He didn’t have a plan. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling at him. She was wrapped in a towel, and her wet hair dripped down onto her shoulders. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?” He knew by now how to recognize her false smiles, and that one was as false as they came.
“Yeah,” she said again, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. He stood there, hands at his sides, and tried not to display his eagerness too intensely.
This had been the way with them, over the last nine months. When Mary had been staying with them there had been soft nights spent in a shared bed, gentle touches and tender kisses. But then Mary had found her flat, and Lucy had moved back upstairs. Space had grown between them. They had never discussed the things that had happened between them. The things that kept happening, on occasion.
If Lockwood sat on the sofa in the evenings, Lucy would come curl up beside him, allowing him to wrap his arm around her. If he wandered down to the kitchens in the morning to find her leaning up against the counter with a cup of tea, he might lean over and press a chaste kiss to her lips.
But it never went further. They did not share a bed again, unless Susannah was staying over. Their kisses never evolved beyond a dry press of lips to lips. They never spoke about it.
At first Lockwood had told himself they were taking time, going slow, allowing this thing between them to build naturally. Then it had been that they were consumed with other things. The gradual fading of their Talents, the decisions that needed to be made about the future of the company. Lucy had agonized over what she would do next. George had taken his A Levels and been accepted to a university course intended for former researchers and future archivists, Lockwood would be busy running the agency, no matter what form it took next.
Lucy hadn’t know what it was she’d wanted. He’d offered her a new position in the agency, given her the option to essentially design her own job, but she had turned him down. It had been Barnes, in the end, who’d produced a solution.
An Access course, designed specifically for agents who’d left school early. Two years to a diploma, with the aim of preparing the students for higher education. Lucy had tried to hide her excitement, but within the week she’d been enroled, with funding in place via the Fittes fund, covering both her tuition and a living stipend.
She’d been so excited. Just that morning she’d been so excited.
“How were your classes?” he asked, when she pulled back from him.
“They were fine,” she said. “Kat was there.”
“Kat Godwin?”
“Yeah.”
“What about all those Fittes tutors?” Fittes had always hired private tutors for their agents. It was one of the biggest draws for parents with Talented children.
“She said she used to slack off,” Lucy said with a shrug. “But now she wants to get caught up. Wants to study medicine, apparently.”
“And…everything else was fine?”
“Yeah, it was good.” Another fake smile. “I’m just going to get dressed.”
He let her go. He didn’t know what else to do.
* * *
She joined him in his room, that night. She did whenever Susannah came to stay the night. He kept the cradle set up there at all times, it was easier then hauling it up and down from the basement. He had pestered Mary relentlessly for Susannah to stay over more often, and had succeeded in securing a regular Friday night babysitting gig. Today was an exception, for her six month anniversary with Kipps.
Yes, he had pestered because he liked spending time with his goddaughter. But more because on those nights Lucy would curl up in his bed, and he could wrap himself around her. The three of them would be their own tiny little bubble, illuminated in the intermittent light of the ghost lamp outside.
The dream would come back, then, the dream of a little girl in ladybug wellies. Of splashing in puddles with Lucy and long winters spent in front of the fireplace.
He got to hold her then, and pretend like that was enough.
No matter how much it was not.
* * *
With each day that passed and week that dragged on, Lucy grew quieter. Smaller, it seemed. Her shoulders were constantly tense, halfway up towards her ears. She withdrew from his touch, and her conversation was short and stilted. She spent longer and longer up in her room.
Lockwood was busy with his new agents — Soren, James, and Beth — taking them on beginner cases and practicing fencing with them in the basement. George came and went sporadically, and with each passing day Lucy grew more and more distant.
He spent several late nights on the phone with Mary, trying unsuccessfully to tease out what was up with Lucy.
“Look, Lockwood,” Mary said finally, clearly exasperated. “Lucy doesn’t like to talk about these things. Something will upset her, or frighten her, or whatever, and if you try to talk to her about it she’ll just explode at you. She wants to be left to deal with whatever it is on her own.”
“But if I knew what it was then I could fix it,” Lockwood complained. “It has to be related to her course, right? Maybe there’s somebody else on the course that’s upsetting her? Should I talk to Barnes about it?”
“No,” Mary said firmly. “You should leave well enough alone. Lucy’s resilient. She’ll deal it, or she won’t, but she’d much rather do it alone.”
Lockwood wanted to protest, but Beth had come downstairs then, and asked if he was almost done with the phone. The house was feeling awfully crowded these days, with all five of them living under one roof. Soren and James shared Jessica’s old room, and Beth had George’s, but they spent a lot of time on the ground floor, reading and eating and tormenting each other, and Lockwood felt like he was constantly tripping over teenagers. Business was good, too, he was considering taking on a second team. But where to put them all?
“Yeah, course,” he told Beth. “Thanks, Mary. We’ll talk later.”
He hung up and handed the phone over, heading back up the stairs in defeat. He paused outside his bedroom door for several minutes, trying to convince himself to just go to bed, but the siren song of Lucy upstairs in the attic was too strong to resist, and he found himself climbing that final flight of stairs on autopilot.
He had stomped his way up, difficult to do in stocking feet, but done nonetheless. But Lucy clearly hadn’t heard him, for she startled badly when he called her name.
She was sat in the middle of the floor, the eye of a hurricane of papers and textbooks. She had a pencil in her hand, another behind her ear, and a pen clutched in her teeth. She wore the same pyjamas he was relatively sure she’d been wearing the full day, and her hair was a greasy mess. When she spun around and faced him he saw the circles under her eyes.
“Whoa,” he said, holding his hands up. “Sorry, just came up to check on you.”
“Well I’m fine,” she said, and turned back to the notebook in front of her.
“When was the last time you took a break?” he asked. “It’s late, you should get to bed. This will all still be here in the morning.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she said, not looking at him. “Although I guess I wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea, if you were offering.”
“No,” he said with a chuckle. “I think you’re probably good on the caffeine front. Seriously, Luce. Go to bed.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I have assignments—”
“It’s Saturday,” he cut in. “You have time—”
“No, I don’t.”
“Alright,” he said, picking his way across the crowded floor to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Seriously, Luce. You need to take a break. You should have a shower, or a bath. And you should eat something, and you should go to bed. I can help you revise tomorrow, if you want—”
“I don’t want your help!” she shouted, startling him badly. She yanked her shoulder away from his grip. “I want you to leave me alone!”
“Lucy—”
“No!” she shouted. “Get out!”
“Hey, what’s—”
“Get out!” She was practically screeching it at him, over and over again. “Get out, get out, get out!”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, holding his hands up and taking several steps back. “Come on, Lucy, listen to yourself. You need to take a break.”
“I can’t!” she said, slightly quieter but now with the concerning addition of vigorous gesticulation. “I can’t take a break, there’s not enough time, I have to— I have to finish all of this!” And then her face crumpled. Her shoulders, which had been steadily creeping up towards her ears, fell. Her hands flew up to cover her face. Her whole body seemed to cave in on itself as sobs wracked her body.
He rushed forward, nearly tripping over a three ring binder, and gathered her in his arms.
“I can’t take a break,” she sobbed. Her hands were trapped between her face and his chest, so the hug was one-sided, but he refused to let her go. “I can’t stop, I’m already so behind, I can’t take a break, I’m going to fail!”
“Hey,” he soothed, talking to her like he did to Susannah when she was getting tetchy. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s gonna be fine. You’re not gonna fail.”
“You don’t know that!” she said. The front of his shirt was starting to get wet. “You don’t know how stupid I am, Lockwood! You don’t get it! I’m going to fail, and I’m going to lose my funding, and—” She didn’t finish the sentence, unable to between the sobs strong enough to shake her whole body in his grip.
“Shh,” he said, not sure what else there was to say. “Shh, it’s okay.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Okay, come on.”
He moved until she was tucked under one of his arms and led her towards the staircase.
“Why,” she sniffed.
“We need to get out of this room for a second,” he said. “It’s okay. You can come back up here and revise until your brain explodes in a bit.”
“I should—”
“You’re taking a break,” he said. “It’s not an option.”
“I—”
They reached the landing, and he paused, turning to face her head on with his hands on her shoulders to keep her from bolting back up the stairs. “Do you honestly believe you’ll be able to get any work done like this?” he asked softly. “Take a break now. An hour, even, and you’ll be so much sharper when you get back to it.”
He watched her battle it out for a moment, the two opposing sides playing across her face, but his side must have won out in the end. A huge yawn overtook her, and he eyes drifted closed for a long enough moment that he began to be concerned she’d fallen asleep standing up.
“Fine,” she muttered.
It wasn’t enthusiastic acceptance that he was right, but he’d take it.