Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

A week and a half after her accident, Lucy is ready to crawl on her knees if it’ll get her out of the godforsaken library. Kipps is across from her on the armchair. They’ve been going through George’s research for a case after she begged them to let her help. No book, comic, or sketch can hold her interest anymore.

“Carlyle,” Kipps says huffing. “If you sigh one more time, I swear I’m going to leave you here with all of Karim’s notes and you’ll have to figure out the case by yourself.”

Lucy pouts. “Sorry,” she tells Kipps, closing the book she’s been perusing and throwing it on her bed. “I’m so fucking bored, Kipps. If I read one more word, I will go barmy and then you all will have to deal with a crazy who can’t walk.”

 Kipps sets his folder down on the side table and stretches on the armchair.

“You’re almost fine,” he says. “Didn’t your doctor say you could start walking a bit after tomorrow?”

She nods. “Still, I haven’t been anywhere that’s not the library or the bathroom in over a week. I miss the kitchen. I miss going outside. I feel like a vampire.”

Kipps rolls his eyes. “You’re all so dramatic. I can take you outside.”

“What?”

“I’ll carry you to the back garden if you want,” Kipps clarifies.

Lucy considers him. She doesn’t want to be more of an inconvenience on her friends, but the idea of being outside is too appealing. Kipps must sense her hesitation.

“Lucy, I really don’t mind doing it. You’ve been cooped in here for too long and I promise it’s not a big deal, so don’t make it one. Also, in a way it serves me too, I can’t read more of George’s nonsense.”

Lucy smiles at him and accepts. She misses the sun on her face and the breeze. It’s early June and the weather has never been more perfect. Or so she assumes.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says standing up to go fetch their jackets. “And I mean it, don’t mention it.”

Lucy has been wearing nothing but pyjamas and nightshirts for the past 10 days. Holly even got her a few new ones that are easy to slip over her boot.

Kipps helps her put on her orthopaedic boot and throws the jacket over her shoulders.

“Ok, Carlyle. I’m going to carry you outside.”

“I can use the crutches, Quill.”

“Nope, we’re not risking it.”

Lucy groans and lifts her arms to have him carry her.

“Ugh, don’t do uppies, it’s weird.” He says making a face of disgust.

“Shut up.”

Kipps carries her and they make their way to the kitchen to use the back door.

“Imagine if I dropped you now,” Kipps says and Lucy swats his arm.

He stops for a second to balance her better and pretends to drop her. Lucy squeals, but ends up laughing with Kipps.

“Arsehole. Don’t do that.” Lucy says in between chuckles, conscious that this is the first time she really laughs in a while.

Lockwood’s steps down the stairs stops their laughs.  

If Lucy thought that he would be more present after their late-night conversation, she now knows she was severely wrong. He’s been more withdrawn. She still hears him coming in and out, but now he barely stops by the library to ask how she’s doing.

“Hey,” Lockwood says, his eyes traveling over her in Kipps’ arms. Lucy is suddenly aware of her shorts leaving a lot of skin exposed and how close her and Kipps must look. She holds onto him a little tighter. After all, she’s doing nothing wrong.

“Tony,” Kipps greets him. “We’re going to the garden if you’re interested. Lucy here is going a bit insane.”

Lockwood takes a moment to reply, during which his eyes meet Lucy’s, but he averts his sight right away. “No, I’m busy. But thank you, Kipps. You two have a good time.”

With that, he leaves them in the hallway and heads back upstairs.

Kipps continues carrying her and helps her sit on the steps to the garden. Her mood immediately improves. She closes her eyes and feels the sun on her skin warming her up. She won’t let the interaction with Lockwood and his mood ruin this moment for her. When she opens her eyes, Kipps is setting a blanket on the grass. He leads her to it and Lucy asks him to join her.

They discuss some of their mutual acquaintances. Who would’ve thought Quill Kipps could be such a gossip.

Feeling too warm, they ditch their jackets. She’s almost gotten used to seeing him in denim and dark shirts instead of the Fittes uniform.

“Do you ever miss it?”

“Umm?”

“Fittes.”

“Sometimes. I worked so hard to get to where I was and then it all just got…pulled from under me. It was hard–the first few months–but now things are better. Don’t tell Lockwood, but I almost enjoy working with you lot.”

That makes her snicker. “Can’t tell him if he won’t talk to me.”

“Ah, he’s still doing that, huh? Also, what was that bit about being busy? He was going somewhere and then went back upstairs. Weird.”

“Is he also being weird to all of you?”

Kipps nods. “We don’t know what’s happening. He’s less normal than usual and that’s already a pretty low bar for Lockwood.”

“I’m getting tired of it. I haven’t done anything to deserve the silent treatment.”

“Whatever it is he’s going through, he’ll get over it,” Kipps offers. “Or you can always punch him. I’m partial to the second one.”

“I don’t want him to get over it,” she confesses. “I just want him to stop being so bloody confusing and treating me like–like I don’t matter.”

“Lucy,” Kipps assumes a grave expression. “Of course, you matter to him.”

Lucy frowns. “Are you defending him?”

“I would never,” he responds. “But I do know that you’re probably going mental trying to figure out what happened. It probably has nothing to do with you.”

They stay outside until it’s time for dinner.

***

Lucy is cleared to start walking without the crutches the next day, but will need to continue wearing the boot for a couple more weeks. She’s able to get up to the loft by herself with a lot of patience and care, but having her independence back makes her feel brand new.

George and Holly help her bring her belongings up the stairs.

Lockwood is out again.

Holly finally brought her the insurance papers to sign a few days ago, so she feels a bit more at peace. She’s able to breathe and laugh without crying from pain, her headaches stopped five days ago, and she can go to the kitchen whenever she wants. Things are finally looking up for Lucy Carlyle. So of course, she must do something to ruin it for herself.  

“So,” she starts as she sits against the headboard. “Is either of you going to tell me what’s happening with Lockwood?”

Her friends look at each other suspiciously. George is gathering books to bring down to the library, whilst Holly helps her fold her wash.

“I’m waiting.”

“Ask Holly, I’m not speaking to him,” says George abandoning the books on the floor by the bed.

“Since when?”

“I don’t know. For a bit?”

“George, what the fuck?” Now she’s worried about both of them.

“If he’s going to act like an idiot, I’m not going to coddle him. Let him ruin his own life, see if I’ll do anything about it.”

With that, George stomps down the stairs leaving the girls alone.

Holly raises her hands in surrender. “I don’t know what to do about those two. George is upset and Lockwood only shows up here to sleep, shower, and go on jobs, and I doubt he’s doing a lot of sleeping. He’s almost as bad as…”

“As…?” Lucy prompts her.

“When you weren’t here.”

“Oh.”

“They only acknowledge each other to talk about the agency,” Holly says taking a seat closer to Lucy. “They stopped talking when you got back from the hospital,”

“Yeah, I seem to be common denominator here.” She doesn’t want to let how upset she is show, but it does in the frown between her brows and the way her hands are pulling at the hem of her blue jumper.

“Hey,” Holly says holding her hand. “You did nothing wrong. You got hurt and we all were more than ready to take care of you because that’s what we do. And I’m really happy that you, Lucy Carlyle, are fine. And also, that we are not fighting anymore.” She says the last part with a timid laugh.

Lucy is also happy about that.

“But Lucy,” Holly says with a sombre expression. “I know how it is between you and Lockwood and how you feel, but don’t let him make you think you’re at fault for something.”

Her heart speeds up. “I don’t–“

Holly gives her a poignant look. “We don’t have to talk about it. I just don’t want you to let him treat you like this.”

She hands Lucy a small envelope with the hospital seal. “Here, figured you were missing this.”

Lucy opens it curiously, spilling the contents onto her palm. The necklace Lockwood gave her lays tangled on her hand. Lucy has been wondering where it was, scared that she lost it in the accident.

“Oh, thank you.”

“The hospital staff had to take it off. You should put it back on.”

Lucy hesitates, unsure if she should do as Holly says. She’s been wearing it since Lockwood gave it to her now over a year ago. Even during her months away, the necklace stayed nestled on the hollow of her throat under her jumpers as a good luck charm, a reminder of them. She asks Holly for help to put it back on.

Holly leaves soon after.

Lucy is tired. Lucy is fed up. Lucy is going to speak to Lockwood.

She stays awake until he gets back from a case. She is all too familiar with Lockwood’s post-case rituals. He cleans his rapier, makes tea, drinks it in the kitchen, then goes to shower, getting to his room much later. Lucy figures that he won’t be able to run away if she confronts him after he’s gone to bed.  

It takes almost another hour until she hears him opening his bedroom door. She’s been perched on the stairs to the loft with the door ajar. Meanwhile, the Skull has been making up songs about her going to see her lover in the middle of the night. Lucy puts the ghost jar in the bathroom.

She musters her courage and makes her way down.

Oddly, his door is open. Lockwood is sitting in bed with a book on his lap. He startles when he notices her and starts standing up.  

She gestures for him to sit down and closes his door.

“Is everything alright?” He asks.

She scoffs. “No, Lockwood everything is not alright.”

“Is it your head? Your ribs? Should we call–“

“You! You’re the one that’s making everything not alright.” She’s not going to cry in anger.

“What did I do?”

“You’re never around anymore. It’s like this isn’t your house.”

“I’ve had other business to attend,” he answers mechanically. “I told you I’ve been busy.”

“What business?” She challenges.

“I don’t see how that concerns you,” his tone is biting, but Lucy has been priming for a fight. That doesn’t mean she’s not taken aback by his words.

“Well, seeing as this started after my accident and you’re ignoring me, I’m guessing it does concern me.”

“I’m not ignoring you–“

“Yes, you are! You didn’t even come to see me when I was at the hospital or even called. You won’t speak to me. And now you and George are fighting? What the fuck is going on? I know you don’t owe me anything, but it’s been–“

“You’re correct, Lucy. I don’t owe you anything. I’m your employer, I’m–”

She’s paralyzed mid-sentence and Lockwood looks stunned by his own words.

Lucy stands there for a moment. Her ankle is hurting again, not used to standing for so long. She wonders if he’ll take it back or apologize.

He does neither.

Lucy hopes the slam of his door doesn’t wake George up.

***

Lucy is now the one doing the ignoring. She’s started taking her meals in the kitchen again, but the moment Lockwood walks in, she’s out. At first, she would make up excuses–flimsy ones–but she stopped after the third day. She does everything to avoid being in his presence in fear that it’ll trigger another fight.

Lockwood has been home more after their conversation. She notices his eyes on her all the time. She wishes he would just stop.

Lucy has racked her brain trying to figure out what happened that led to his behaviour. She won’t ask him again. Maybe he really meant it, maybe this was all just because he doesn’t owe her anything.

Holly, George, and Kipps are collateral damage in their war.

The worst of it happens during lunch a week after she’s cleared to walk. Lockwood is not outright awful to Kipps, but a couple of jabs here and there get them riled up enough that Kipps leaves the kitchen telling him to get himself in check before he pushes the only people who care whether he lives or dies too far.

After Kipps’ words, Lockwood whispers something under his breath and disappears for the rest of the day.

Her ankle is almost fully healed. For once, she’s followed the instructions and done all the funny exercises to get it mobile again. She convinces her doctor to give her the final clearance to go back to active work a few days before her three weeks are up with the promise that she will wear the boot for another week.  

Lucy is itching for it. She’s craving the rush of the haunt. Her doctor tells her to be careful or she will land herself back in the hospital.  

After a team discussion where Lockwood only speaks to her while pretending to write things down, they come up with a plan so she can safely return to work. She will focus on finding the sources and leave the physical stuff to the rest of the team.

Lucy asks Holly to not put her on the same cases as Lockwood. Holly says not to worry because Lockwood had the same request and Holly knows both in the same case will only give the visitors more energy. She has no right to be hurt by his request when it was just like hers, yet it stings deeply, leaving a sour taste in her mouth.

Her first few cases are simple enough. A cluster of type ones in Belsize Park, a Cold Maiden in St. James, and a Wraith in Mayfair. They all blend in their unremarkability.

Her ankle bothers her when she’s been standing or walking too long, but some paracetamol gets the job done.

Lucy and Kipps have become an unofficial team, with either Holly or George joining them most of the time. She enjoys working with him, something that only surprises her a bit as their friendship has grown. He has the experience and she has the Talent.

Their case tonight should be easy and Lucy is already looking forward to getting back home early.

“Kipps is out,” Holly says entering the basement office. Lucy has been working on a letter to her sister while Lockwood spars with Floating Joe. He hesitated to stay when he got to the basement and saw she was there. Lucy pretended like him hovering by the stairs when he noticed her didn’t hurt her. Now she pretends like she hasn’t been watching him.

“Is he alright?” Lucy asks. She sees Lockwood stop practicing behind Holly.

“Yeah,” she replies. “Last minute thing with his nan.”

“It’s fine, Hol,” Lucy replies. “it’s just a Stone Knocker. I can handle the case alone.”

“No, you can’t,” Lockwood pipes in.

“Why not?” She’s almost surprised at his audacity.

“Your ankle is bothering you,” he replies pointing at her leg with his rapier. “Besides, you need someone to keep the Visitor off while you find the source.”

“How do you even know my ankle hurts?”

“You’re limping,” he turns to Holly. “Hol, can you confirm the two of us will be there tonight?”

Holly looks at her with questioning eyes.

“I would prefer to go alone,” she feels Lockwood’s eyes searching her, but it’s easier to look down at the letter.

He finally says it’s fine and she can go alone.

Lockwood puts away his practice rapier when Holly leaves and comes to stand by Lucy’s desk. He fidgets with his tie and when Lucy looks up, he’s smiling at her. It makes her anxious now when his smile used to always be a comfort. It’s like he wants her to forget they’re angry at each other. Unfortunately for him, Lucy’s not forgetting anytime soon.

“Luce,” he starts. “Be careful tonight, please.”

Luce? Has he even called her that since her accident? She folds the letter and stands up.

“Don’t worry, Lockwood. I will be a good employee.”

His jaw tenses and he opens his mouth, but Lucy is on her way up before he can say anything.

***

Just as Lucy predicted, it’s an open-and-shut case. She hails a night cab with the source safely wrapped in silver in her rucksack, keeping the Skull company. She feels proud of completing her first alone case since the Marinos so quickly and efficiently.

The trip to the furnaces turns into a meet up with Tendy agents she worked with during her time as a freelancer. Lucy finds herself having a good time speaking to them now that she doesn’t have to deal with their incompetence.

She doesn’t get back to Portland Row until an hour later. It feels good to be back in the field, but her ankle feels tight and she knows she will pay for it in the morning. The limping will disappear after some stretching and walking around the loft. For now, she looks forward to a shower and sleep.

The house is silent. Both Lockwood and George’s coats are hanging on the rack in the foyer when she drops hers off and takes off her boots, so they’ve probably been back for hours.

Lucy takes the stairs up slowly, trying not to make her ankle swell more. When she reaches the landing between Lockwood and George’s room, she sees the first one’s door is open and his lamp is on. Against her better judgement, she goes in to turn off the light and close the door, maybe he’s not in after all.  

Lockwood lays sprawled in bed with his feet on the floor, like he was sitting and fell asleep. There’s an arm thrown over his eyes while the other clutches a book to his chest. It looks like an uncomfortable position and Lucy wants to leave him there, let him wake up fully dressed with a sore neck.

Softly, she starts grabbing the book. Lockwood grasps her hand and scares her.

“Luce?” He looks disoriented.

“I–sorry. I saw the door open and figured you weren’t in. You should go to sleep.”

“Where were you?”

“I just got back from the job.”

Lucy attempts to shake his hand off, but he clings to her.

“You should’ve been back hours ago,” Lockwood tells her. “Did something happen?”

“Nope, I just got distracted after,” she answers. “You can read more about it when I’m done with my report tomorrow.”

“You could tell me now.”

“Lockwood,” she swallows and tries to contain the anger rising in her chest. “I’m tired, my leg hurts, and I want to go to bed. Please let go of my arm.”

He releases it like she’s burning his skin. Lucy wonders If he had even noticed he was still holding her.

“Um, sorry.” He rubs his face and pulls his tie off. Lucy should go up to her loft.

“What were you doing up?”

“I…I did some reading after I got back and fell asleep.”

“In your suit and with the door open?”

Lockwood shrugs.

She wonders why she even tries. She bids him good night and walks away from his bed. This feels like a repeat of their last conversation in his room, but somehow worse. Even after he said he didn’t owe her anything, Lucy is still trying. She feels pathetic.

“I wanted to–I wanted to make sure you got back safe.”

That stops her.

There are a hundred retorts on the tip of her tongue. Why do you care? Why now? Where have you been? Why won’t you speak to me anymore?

“Why?”

Lockwood looks at her in disbelieve and stands up. “What do you mean why? I’ll always want to know if you’re alright.”

“No, I’m done with this. You’ve been foul to me–and–and to everyone else. What gives you the right to ignore me and then say you will always want to know if I’m fine, huh?”

The room feels hot after her outburst. There are angry tears on her cheeks and she wipes them violently. Lockwood just stands there, his fists clenched. She wants him to fight back, to tell her she’s right, to tell her she’s wrong, to say or do anything.

However, he just nods and sits back down. Lucy goes up to the loft.

She takes off her clothes and leaves them strewn around the room. The shower is cold and she doesn’t wait for it to warm up. It leaves her shivering. Lucy’s not sure if it’s from the temperature or the lingering anger.

Her ankle is throbbing now and she’s out of paracetamol. She knows Holly refilled the first aid kit in the kitchen, but going down the stairs will hurt. Calling for George is a risk because Lockwood might hear her. She chooses to dress in her pyjamas and brave the stairs.

Lucy feels like the unluckiest girl in the world when she opens the door to the kitchen and Lockwood is pouring hot water into a cup.

“Oh,” he says. “Sorry, I’m almost done.”

“Why are you apologizing for being in your own kitchen?”

“Right. I’m sorry about our fight earlier.” He says sheepishly.

“It takes two to fight and you just stood there and said nothing, so I’m not accepting your apology.” Lucy has been opening every cabinet and the kit is nowhere to be found.

“What are you looking for?”

“First aid kit. I was sure Holly had restocked it.”

“Why do you need it for?”

Lucy does notice the genuine concern in his voice, which makes his avoidance of her upset her so much more.

“My ankle hurts and I’m getting a headache.”

“Your head? I thought your concussion was all cleared up.” Lockwood opens the cabinet over the fridge and pulls the kit, leaving it on the table for her.

“Thanks,” Lucy opens it and dry swallows a couple of pills.

Lockwood sits at the table with a steaming cup. Lucy finally takes a look at him. He looks tired, more tired than any eighteen-year-old should be. The hostile part of her brain tells her not to care, but she doesn’t know how not to.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Wait, Luce. I’m sorry. I haven’t been a good fri–employer.” The last word hangs like a question.

“Jesus Christ, Lockwood. Is that all we are? Employer and employee?”

He shakes his head. He pulls the chair next to him for her. Lucy is uncertain to sit, but curiosity about what he will do or say gets to her.  

Their hands are dangerously close to each other on the Thinking Cloth. Lucy supresses the urge to reach for his fingers.

“You got hurt. And it was my fault–“

“No, it wasn’t. I chose to go on that job.”

“But it’s my job as-“

“My employer…”

His hand reaches for hers. It hesitates and grazes her fingers softly. It’s a touch Lucy has craved ardently. She feels silly in her want for his attention. She moves her hand away.

“And as someone who cares about you a lot. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been and for saying I don’t owe you anything.”

“You have a funny way of showing it, Lockwood. You didn’t even call the hospital. I was–“

“I came to the hospital,” he confesses. “The moment the call came through. I wasn’t…great. They made me leave.”

Lucy takes a deep breath and looks at him. “Why?”

He laughs, but there’s no joy in it. “I wouldn’t let them work. I was…distraught. They wouldn’t let me see you. Then I got kicked out. George and Holly got there after me so I don’t think they know what happened.”

“Is that why you didn’t come back?”

He shakes his head. “I could’ve but…I just couldn’t see you like that.”

Lucy knows she needs to take advantage of his sudden sharing. “Where have you been? The times you’ve been out all day, where have you gone to?”

“After I left the hospital, I came here. But it was too much and I needed to clear my head. I ran into George as I was leaving and we had a bit of a row outside. Gave the neighbours quite the show, I’m sure. He said they needed me here. I told him to leave me alone.”

“The Skull told me,” Lucy admits. “After George followed you upstairs my first night back.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t my best moment. After our fight outside, I went to see Flo. Tried to pretend like I just wanted to spend time together. She saw right through me, but left me stay with her. She said I needed to leave the next day, but I just wandered. Then came home when I thought everyone would be asleep already.”

“What about the other days?” Lucy inquires. “You’ve been in and out of the house for weeks.”

“I’ve…I’ve spent a lot of time visiting my family.”

Lucy looks at him quizzically.

“Their graves,” he clarifies. “I’ve gone to the Archives-“

“You hate the Archives.”

“It kept me busy, pretending like I needed to be somewhere else. I’ve walked around, gone to cafes, used the DEPRAC sparing rooms a couple of times. I’ve taken on small jobs without Holly’s knowledge, I’ve just tried to give myself reasons to not be here.”

“All that to avoid me.”

“All that because I hoped being away from you would help me stop feeling this way,” Lockwood says. “I couldn’t face you and see what I almost lost.”

“That’s so-“

“Selfish. It was selfish. Just like I’ve been all this time.”

“I wouldn’t call pretending like I’m not here selfish, more like fucked up–“

“I’ve been selfish in my feelings for you. I’ve let them cloud my decision making and the way I’ve treated you and everyone.”

Lockwood’s hand reaches for hers, but pulls back. Lucy is not sure she’s still breathing.  

“You got hurt. They thought you were dead when they found you, Luce. And then when you got back, I couldn’t stand to see you.”

“Why not? My injuries weren’t that bad.”

Lockwood turns and softly moves her fringe to graze the area of skin that used to be covered with a plaster and is now a pink, still-healing scar.

“I couldn’t stand to think about what would happen to me if you had–what if you had died? I’ve worked so hard for years to not let people get close, to not leave anyone behind to miss me when I’m gone. And I know I failed already, but if something happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”

“I don’t understand.” There’s confusion in her voice, but she knows what he means. But it’s big, too big to say, too big to feel. “I don’t get why–“

“Don’t you see?” His eyes are pleading on hers. They beg her to say the words so he doesn’t have to. Lucy is not kind enough to give him that.

“I love you,” he says. Except the way he says it doesn’t sound like a love confession, it sounds like resignation.

“Lockwood–“

“Please don’t say anything. I don’t want to know if you feel the same way. I can’t–don’t say anything.”

“Why?” Lucy doesn’t intend for the question to sound so fragile, yet her tone reflects how she feels.

“Me being in love with you won’t change anything,” Lockwood has never sounded this desperate to her. “We will still be colleagues and–and I’m not asking you to understand why I did what I did–or forgive me for it. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I only ask that maybe you would consider letting me fix our friendship despite the way I’ve acted.”

“Why not? Why won’t it change things? What if I wanted it to?”

“It can’t. I think it would consume me. Then one day when it’s over, because it will be, I won’t know what to do with myself. And if during whatever time we have, you leave again or something happens to you or something happens to me, then what, Luce? It will destroy this. All of it.”

Lockwood grasps the edge of the table like he’s going to keel over if he doesn’t. He must feel off-balance, too.

“Because, Lucy…I think I would do anything not to lose you, even if it means never really having you.”

“So, I’m just supposed to ignore you feel this way forever? You’re right, you’re being selfish. Why tell me if you’re going to do nothing about it?”

Lockwood shakes his head. “No, I’ll get over it. I will try, I promise. I’ll focus on our friendship and I’ll be a better friend to everyone, even to Kipps.”

Lucy stands up, needing to put as much distance as possible between them. Lockwood follows her.

“Yeah, you’ve been a right dickhead to him and to George and Holly.”

“I’ll apologize to them. I’ll talk to them.” He’s pleading now. “They took care of you when I didn’t. And I’m always going to regret that.”

Her head is spinning and all she sees is Lockwood.

“If you can ignore the way I feel…there’s nothing I want more than to have your friendship, even if I don’t deserve it.

Lucy knows hurt, she knows betrayal, she knows loyalty. Lucy knows anger best. “What friendship, Lockwood?”

He moves closer to her and her back hits the sink. “Luce–“

She pushes him just enough for him to realize how close they are.

“No,” she looks into his eyes. Lucy wants him to know just how far he’s hurt her. “Friends don’t do this. They don’t treat you like you don’t matter. They don’t make you question your place and your worth. They don’t ask you to ignore your own feelings for their sake. You’ve been a bad friend.”

One of them is crying, maybe both of them are, the sounds soft and muffled.

“You hurt me. And now you’re saying that I have no choice in this.”

“I know,” he says.  

“And don’t worry about my feelings. Because I feel the same, you know? I do. I love you. But just like you, I will be working on not feeling that way. Don’t worry.”

Lockwood looks struck by her confession, but Lucy thinks that he had to know. Of course he had to.

She leaves him in the kitchen and runs up the stairs to the loft as fast as her ankle allows her.

***

Lockwood keeps his promise to speak to the rest of Lockwood and Co. and apologize. Lucy hears it from Holly, George, and Kipps separately.

Kipps tells her that Lockwood apologized to him during what Lucy guesses was the morning after their fight in the kitchen.

“I mean,” Kipps narrates as they walk together from his car to Satchell’s. “I think the fact that he looked absolutely pitiful made me accept it. He had these sad eyes and the demeanour of a cat who just got caught in a storm.”

Lucy hums in agreement and continues walking next to him. Her interactions with Lockwood have been awkward and miserable. He seems like he’s attempting to give her space, but more than once Lucy has felt the weight of his sight on her. It makes her want to reach for him and soothe away the sad lines that mar his face. A handsome face she thinks about all the time telling her he loves her. A face she’s struggling to forgive.

Holly told her during breakfast when it was just the two of them that Lockwood had asked her to speak in the basement office. He had thanked her for taking care of Lucy and apologized not only for his absence, but for his behaviour over the past weeks. He had also promised to be better at communicating his comings and goings since Holly oversees their calendar.

Lucy had cornered George during a case to ask him about his friendship with Lockwood. He wouldn’t tell Lucy how their conversation went, only saying they were fine now, but vaguely implying it was still shaky. Then he had asked Lucy about her own conversation with Lockwood.

Lucy wasn’t sure of what to say. Somehow, we’re in love, but it doesn’t make a difference and I’m so angry at him didn’t seem appropriate.

“We’re still fighting,” she had told George. “I think.”

George had set his thermos down inside the iron circle with a pensive expression on this face.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said. Lockwood and I are fighting. We said some things and now I don’t see how to move forward.”

“No,” George said taking off his glasses. “I heard you. I just don’t understand what the point of that is. If you’re not going to be friends anymore, then say that.”

Lucy had not known what to say so she had stayed silent. George had a point. Maybe this pain was something she would never get over and she simply needed to cut her losses and move on. She could maintain a strictly professional relationship with Lockwood. Only that she couldn’t and she knew it. It had been easier to ignore her own feelings for him when it was all one-sided and she had little hope that they would ever be corresponded. But now she knew.

“So, what now, Lucy? Are you going to quit? Move out?”

“What? No. Do you think I should?”

George ignored her questions with one of his own. “Why though? Because he was a prick to you while you were recovering? He’s been a prick before and sure, we might take some time to forgive him, but he always apologizes and tries to fix it.”

Lucy chose to be honest because the reality was eating her inside.

“He’s in love with me,” Lucy said. “I feel the same way. But he wants us to ignore it and get over it.”

George just gestured for her to continue.

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“Because I’m not. Everyone knows he’s in love with you, just like everyone knows you’re in love with him. It’s been like this for a long time, Lucy. I’ve known you as long as Lockwood has and I love you like a sister, but it’s always been different between the two of you.”

Suddenly, Lucy felt foolish. Did everyone really know? Were they so oblivious that they couldn’t see it while everyone else could?

George sighed. “Listen, the two of you are really good at ignoring what’s right in front of you. I’m sure you’ve been able to justify the way he treats you and looks at you the entire time as just how Lockwood is. And yes, he can be downright flirty sometimes and not realize it, but it’s always been different with you.”

“He said he would get over it, that his feelings didn’t change anything and he wants to just be friends.”

“Huh, sure that will work,” George deadpanned.  

“I said I would do the same.”

“And are you?”

Lucy stretched her legs and sat straight. “No, haven’t managed to, yet.”

“Lucy,” George said and she looked at him. George was the best of them, always a good friend, always practical, but Lucy wondered if her friendship with him would be affected by the ending of her friendship with Lockwood. “Are you going to leave again? Or quit?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not. Do you think I should?”

“No, but if it’s too hard…”

That thought had loitered in the back of her mind since her conversation with George a week ago. Now as her and Kipps march down the street, she keeps thinking about George’s questions.

“–could do better than him, but Tony has his virtues. Sure, not–“

Lucy stops walking and holds Kipps from continuing. He looks at her curiously.

“Do you think I should move out? Or leave Lockwood and Co.?”

Kipps grimaces. “Why would you?”

“I spoke to George–“

“Did he tell you to do that?”

“No, but he asked if I would,” she shifts on her feet.

Kipps takes a deep breathe. “I don’t think you should, but then again, for a Listener, you’re not one for listening to people.”

Lucy rolls her eyes and they start walking again. Holly has tasked them with picking up their Satchell’s order. It’s been busy at Lockwood and Co., which Lucy has chosen to use as an excuse for not getting ahead in her plan to get over her feelings for Lockwood. She wonders if he has made any headway. Where would she even start? Distance did nothing and being upset at him also hasn’t helped. Should she try dating someone else? It wouldn’t be fair to the person.

“If you do choose to move out, I have a guest room you can use while you figure things out,” Kipps says as they wait in the queue to pay.

After their trip to the store and back, Lucy goes up to her room to sketch. She has taken to spending most of her time in her room. The loneliness is creeping in. Even when she was confined to the library, she didn’t feel this way. She wonders if Lockwood is going through the same. Maybe it would be best if she moved out. She could always stay on as an employee and just commute like Holly. It would at least allow her some actual distance and Lockwood wouldn’t have to hide in his room or the library to avoid her.

She asks Holly the next day if she thinks it would be a good idea. They just finished meeting a client.

“Lucy…” Holly just looks at her with pity and Lucy can’t stand it.

“Forget I asked,” Lucy says attempting to leave the sitting room. Holly grips her arm and doesn’t let her.

“I can’t tell you if it’s for the best that you move, but I can give you the number for my estate agent. She’s helping Julie and I find our new flat.”

Ah yes, because Holly is in a serious enough relationship to be moving in together with her girlfriend. Julie packs her lunch and picks her up if she misses her bus. She has even joined the Lockwood and Co. team for the occasional pint. They’re always holding hands or sitting closely together. Lucy feels jealous, wondering if she will ever experience that.

Lucy thanks her and asks her for the number, heading for the library.

Lockwood is there reading one of his rags. Lucy hovers by the door, going unnoticed. She only sees the back of his head, but he’s wearing the tie she got him two Christmases ago. Lucy feels a twinge of something in her chest.

“Lockwood,” she calls his attention.

He stands too quickly and drops the magazine. In the time he bends to pick it up and drop it on the side table, Lucy looks at him. He seems better than last week, or at least less tired. His suit is neatly pressed and his hair styled in his regular swoop.  

“Lucy,” he smiles at her and then he stops and looks away, like for a second, he forgot he’s not supposed to be smiling at her. “Did you need something?”

Did she?

“Do you have a second?”

He nods and gestures for her to take a seat. Lucy is reminded of her first night at Portland Row when they sat together. She had asked him how she would know they were good enough for her. Lucy wonders if he remembers the conversation.

“So…” he prompts her.

“I’ve–I’ve been thinking. Do you want me to move out?”

Lockwood seems confused so she rushes to explain herself.

“You let us live here basically for free because we work for you and we’re friends. But if we’re not friends anymore–

Lockwood looks away and breathes like she just struck him. “We’re not friends anymore?”

“I mean,” she swallows. “Isn’t that where we’re heading?”

He’s pulling at the cuffs of his shirt, twisting the buttons there. “Sorry I–you don’t have to move out. Unless you want to. Are you leaving the agency?”

Lucy shakes her head. “No…unless you ask me to.”

“I would never.” The conviction in his voice makes her heart do a small somersault. Lockwood stands up not looking at her. “If you do want to move out, we can figure it out. You let me know. I have to go.”

Lucy decides to stay. Despite all the hurt, Portland Row is still her home.

***

“You know,” Lockwood tells Kipps as he grabs a sandwich from the platter in the middle of the kitchen table. “For someone who says he’s not an official part of Lockwood and Co., you sure spend a lot of time here.”

Kipps doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading. “Don’t want you to miss me too much, Tony. God forbid I don’t come here and then you spend all your day moping even more.”

Lockwood rolls his eyes, but doesn’t reply.

Lucy has been watching their interaction from a chair across the table, focused on her own sandwich. She notices Lockwood looking in her direction, only that he’s looking at her chest. It makes her blush. Lucy is wearing a relatively low-cut blouse for her as summer is in full swing, so she looks down to make sure she looks fine.

She realizes his eyes are following her hands. He must be looking at the necklace, which she has been fidgeting with. The necklace is usually obscured by her clothes, except for today. Maybe Lockwood just now remembered upon seeing it that she still has it. Does it he want it back? The hospital envelope is still in her room.

She realizes that he must. It was his sister’s after all and their relationship is not good enough for him to allow Lucy to keep it.

That night, she sneaks out of her room and slips the small hospital envelope with the necklace under his bedroom door. Too much of a coward to do it in person.

It hurts to part with it. Even in her time away, she always wore the delicate chain. Her neck feels bare without it.

Lucy gets ready for bed.

“If you ever want your tall boy to take any action, you should consider not dressing like that to bed,” the Skull says.

She scoffs. “What have I said about not commenting on the way I dress or look?”

“And I would honour your wishes, but I’m saying it for your own good.”

Lucy looks down at the blue shirt she’s owned for years. There are paint stains and a hole on her thigh near the hem. It’s a perfectly appropriate sleep shirt that no one will see anyway.

“What if your boy comes up to confess his love and sees this? Oops! Too late! You’re all good on love confessions.”

“Shut the fuck up and good night,” Lucy whispers as she closes the valve and embraces the silence of her room.

As she burrows under the covers, there’s a knock.

“Lucy?” Lockwood’s voice says from the other side of her loft door.

Lucy wills herself to calm down before replying. She could always pretend to be asleep.

“Come in,” she says weakly.  

Lockwood comes up the stairs with downcast eyes. His sleeves are rolled up in the way that makes her neck heat and the top couple of buttons of his shirt are undone.

He shows her the envelope. “You didn’t have to give it back.”

Lucy sits up, Lockwood hovers over her next to the bed. His arm is outstretched as he hands her the envelope. Lucy wants to pull him towards her.

He looks forlorn, it both irritates and saddens her. Why does he want her to keep it? Sure, he gave her the necklace when they were just friends, but what are they now? Just a memory of that? Former friends? Colleagues desperately in love with each other?

“Doesn’t seem right to keep it.”

“Then hide it,” he pleads. “Put it in Jessica’s room. Just…don’t give it back to me.”

Lockwood doesn’t wait for her to reply or grab the envelope, opting instead to throw it on her bed.

She grabs it and fidgets with it. Lucy knows she wants to keep the necklace; she wants to wear it despite the uncertainty of her relationship.

Lucy stands and for the first time wishes she had listened to the Skull and worn something different to bed. She’s hyperaware of her threadbare shirt, while Lockwood is fully dressed.

She turns and asks him to put the necklace on her. Her voice barely above a whisper. Their hands briefly touch as she hands him the chain.

This is the closest they’ve been in weeks, since he helped her get to the loo that time. Lucy pulls her hair up and Lockwood carefully clasps the necklace, his fingertips lingering on the tender skin of her nape. His hands, ever so gently, trace the contours of her neck, leaving a trail of warmth and an electricity in their wake.

His hands finally withdraw and Lucy turns. She wants to thank him, but any word will destroy the moment. Lockwood looks down at her and reaches to righten the small diamond. Lucy wants to catch his hand in hers.

“Uh, thanks. For keeping it, that is.”

“Thank you for letting me keep it.”

He nods and reaches for her again. This time his hand travels from her neck up to her face. Lucy wonders if he’s going to kiss her as his eyes are on her lips. She wishes he would. Just once she wants to know what it’s like to kiss Anthony Lockwood.

Lockwood steps away. “Night, Luce.” He says with a small smile.

Lucy remains awake for hours, unable to find sleep.

***

Lucy works hard to examine the way she feels. She knows she has forgiven Lockwood for some of his absence, but hasn’t found the words to speak to him.

They’re in the basement alone. Lucy attempting to complete her backlogged case notes and Lockwood signing a stack of invoices that Holly admonished him for not completing in a timely manner.

Lucy keeps getting distracted by the way he mutters to himself. Not because his voice bothers her, but because she wants to interject and offer her opinion. She goes back to her report.

She has wondered how much of her anger towards Lockwood is an ego thing. How much of it is just a reflection of how inadequate it feels to have someone not want to love her.

She wonders if has stopped loving her yet.

Lockwood looks up and catches her staring, there’s no point pretending like she wasn’t looking at him.

He grins. “Sorry I keep talking to myself. I shouldn’t let paperwork pile up like this or I won’t be able to go on a case again.”

Lucy shakes her head and returns the smile. “It’s alright, not like I want to finish these notes anyway.”

It’s easy to look at each other. It’s even easier to miss Lockwood in a way that feels all encompassing. Lucy looks away.

Lockwood clears his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. There are a couple of cases coming up and I know we both asked Holly not to put us together–Lucy, it’s fine, I did the same and I understand–anyway I was wondering if it would be alright with you if I swapped with Kipps for a couple of them.”

“Oh.”

Lockwood’s expression changes almost imperceivably. He masks it so well with a smile. “It’s no issue. Forget about it, we don’t need to make any changes if–“

“No,” Lucy interrupts him. “You caught me off guard. I–of course it’s fine. I can tell Kipps if you want.”

Now this smile is real, it’s warm and it reaches his brown eyes. For the first time in weeks, his face brings her comfort.  

“Thanks, Luce.”

She nods and goes back to her report, while he resumes signing papers.

“I don’t think that’s where we’re heading.” Lucy doesn’t know where the words are coming from. It must be from the place inside her chest that misses him desperately.

“Huh?” Lockwood asks confused.

“When we spoke about me potentially moving out. I said we were heading towards not being friends. I don’t think that’s where we’re heading, at least not anymore.”

He wistfully smiles at her and sets his pen down. “I don’t deserve that, Luce.”

“I don’t care, it’s just how it is.” And she finds that she doesn’t, she’s tired of holding onto her anger and hurt.

“For what is worth,” he says with his stare fixated on her face. “I do owe you. So much. And I still would do anything for you.”

This interaction kickstarts the beginning of a carefully crafted truce between them. They speak to each other during cases and even make eye contact sometimes. Lucy no longer hides in her room.

***

A sunny Sunday afternoon finds Lucy heading out of Portland Row for a walk. Holly and Kipps are off and George is visiting his family. Lockwood is up in his room. She’s dressed in black shorts and a thin periwinkle shirt. She feels nostalgic for her first summer in London after Combe Carey Hall, how easy things were, how happy she felt.

She got the idea to go outside earlier. Summer has reached its peak and 35 Portland Row feels like a furnace. The loft is the hottest room in the house, so Lucy laid on the floor in her underwear hoping to cool off. The bit of breeze coming through the window inspired her to be outdoors.

She’s adjusting the rapier in her belt when Lockwood steps out of the house. He’s wearing dark trousers, a white shirt, and a tie of a green so dark it’s almost black. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hairline looks damp with sweat. Lucy wants to run her fingers through his hair.

“Luce, hey. Out for a walk?”

Would he join her if she asked him.

She nods. “You?”

“Was running to Arif’s for butter.”

They linger on the steps. It’s awkward, but not the way their interactions have been constrained and painful. This is more akin to the lingering touches they used to share during cases when they would hold hands without even noticing, or when Lockwood would make her toast and their arms would brush against each other.

“Do you want to join me?” Lucy asks, hopeful. “I’m just walking around the neighbourhood. It’s too hot inside.”

His eyes widen and he smiles, gesturing for her to lead the way. Marylebone seems alive with the green of the trees lining the street and the families who got the same idea to take an afternoon stroll.

They walk in silence and a couple of times their hands collide. She wonders if things were different if they would be holding hands. If they would be one of those couples who can’t seem to walk unless they’re touching, guiding each other on the street. Maybe for just these minutes Lucy can pretend.

They speak about their friends and the agency and the Skull. They skirt around any topic that could set them off. They’re overly polite and it makes her yearn for a time when their conversations flowed even if there was the looming threat of an argument.

They loop around the neighbourhood until they reach Arif’s. Lockwood goes to search for butter, while Lucy looks at the sweets display and picks Lockwood’s favourite.

“All good?” he asks. She shows him what she’s getting and he grins.

He pays and they walk back to the house sharing the candy bar.

Lucy finds herself trying to find an excuse to continue together when they go inside the house, but she doesn’t need to because Lockwood leads her to the sitting room and opens the windows. They take seats on opposite sides of the sofa.

The silence is all consuming and Lucy tries to think of ways to fill it. She could ask him about summers in Portland Row growing up. How did he deal with the heat in the loft when he was young? Did his parents or Jessica make him sleep downstairs when it got too hot? Instead, she asks him about the list of jobs for the week.

Lucy goes to get them iced water and Lockwood follows her.

Lockwood gulps his down when she offers it to him, so he pours more into his glass. The condensation wets her fingers and she wipes them on her shorts. Lockwood’s eyes follow her hand and linger on her hip. He looks away.

Lucy wants to ask him if he still loves her. She wants to know how successful he’s been in his effort to stop. She hasn’t been very successful herself. In a way, she’s found that she loves him more than before. Now she knows they’ll always find each other.

They stand in the kitchen like they did weeks ago, the memory of his confession lingering between them. Lucy tries to appear casual leaning on the kitchen sink.

He walks until he’s standing in front of her. Lucy puts her hands up on his chest, unsure if she’s going to push him away or bring him closer. Lockwood makes the decision for her by lowering his face, his hands coming to rest on the edge of the sink by her hips. His lips are so close yet no close enough. She lowers her eyes and focuses on the knot of his tie; she touches it and her hand travels from it to the back of his neck bringing him closer until his nose caresses the side of her face. The air is thick with summer and Lucy blames how hard it is to breathe on that.

“Are you going to kiss me?” It’s a question. It’s a dare.

Lockwood laughs against her skin.

The first kiss is slow and tentative, their lips barely touching. It’s his way of letting her back away if she wants to. But she doesn’t want to. Lucy kisses him with all the pent-up love and aching she feels inside. It’s not particularly delicate, but then again, neither is she.

Her teeth graze his bottom lip and he makes a sound Lucy has only allowed herself to dream about seldomly. His hands leave the sink and grasp her hips. They move together, still kissing, to the other side of the counter. With a force she didn’t know he possessed, Lockwood lifts her until she’s sitting on it and he’s between her thighs. His hands are on her lower back exploring the stretch of skin exposed by her shirt, hers are on his hair, finally running through it like she’s wanted to. He’s whispering something against her neck as he kisses her there. Very faintly she hears him saying Luce, my Luce repeatedly. She grabs his tie and brings his mouth back to hers.

Kissing Lockwood is more overwhelming than she expected. She’s been kissed before, but never with this intensity. And she’s matching it. She kisses a spot under his jaw that makes him squeeze her waist and pull her closer until she’s able to wrap her legs around his waist. There’s a smidge of awareness that they have many things left unsaid and she doesn’t know where they stand. She embraces the moment instead.

She’s not sure how long they kiss, but it’s long enough that the edge of the countertop has left indents on the back of her thighs. He massages the lines on her skin.

Lockwood is breathing heavily and he separates himself from her mouth, moving her sweaty fringe to kiss the small scar on her forehead. He lays his head on her shoulder and gives her a small, chaste kiss where her shirt meets her skin.  Lockwood looks up at her and she runs her fingers through his hair. He kisses her wrist.

“I love you.” He says and this time it doesn’t sound full of dread. It sounds real and warm and just like Lucy imagined. .

“I miss you.” Lockwood says it like he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “I’m really sorry for everything I did.”

He moves away and helps her off the counter. They take a moment to compose themselves. Lockwood adjusting his trousers and fixing his shirt where it’s become untuck. Lucy guesses she did that. She pulls her shirt down over the waistline of her shorts and gathers her hair up in a bun. She feels overheated and her heart is racing like she just ran down up the stairs.

“Me too,” she answers leaning on the counter. “I miss you, too.”

Lucy bites the inside of her lip to stop all the other words she wants to say.

Lockwood gets closer, but stops. Lucy is grateful because she doesn’t think she can stop herself from kissing him again before they speak. His hands are on his hips and Lucy is reminded of the way he’s commanding on jobs, but now his regular confidence is replaced with something like reluctance.

“Then what are we doing, Luce?” She knows the question is directed at her, but he’s not seeking an answer. She gives him one anyway.

“You tell me, Lockwood,” she says crossing her arms. “You’re the one that said you would try to stop feeling this way about me. Has it worked?

He chuckles, but there’s not particular joy there. “No, it really hasn’t. Can’t say I’ve tried very hard. You?”

She shakes her head.

“What are we going to do about it?”

“What if I just want you?” She asks.  

Lockwood takes a deep breathe. “What if we cant’s figure it out?”

“We will,” she answers, not completely sure where the confidence is coming from. But she means it. “We can figure it out. If we try and we don’t work out, we can go back to being friends and sure it’s going to be fucking awful, but I promise we will be fine.”

“You’re really sure of this.”

She nods. “We just did, Lockwood. Look at how it’s been the for the past month and now look at us. I think we can do this. I think we can try, but you can’t do this again. No more ignoring me, no more hiding your feelings. You have to promise me.”

There’s a heaviness to her words, almost imploring, but not quite. Her lips feel swollen where he kissed her. She wants to kiss him again.

Lockwood is still standing in front of her, his eyes look darker. “I know I promised to try to stop loving you and I failed miserably, but I can promise you that I will try to make this work.”

“That’s enough for me.” Lucy says reaching for his hand. He holds her hand and brings her closer to him until she’s against his chest.

Lockwood kisses her forehead. The kitchen is too hot and they find themselves hand in hand walking back to the sofa in the sitting room. This time, they sit close together; her legs on his lap and his fingers tracing lazy circles on her ankle.

He won’t stop looking at her and it makes Lucy blush.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “I just didn’t think this would happen. Didn’t think I would ever deserve your forgiveness.”

She frowns. “I love you. If you need me to say it again, I forgive you. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Lucy silences him by kissing him again. She can do that now whenever she wants.