Chapter Text
“George!” Holly yelled. “Come help us with these cupboards, please!”
George glanced over his shoulder down to the kitchen door. Holly’s request came from inside the kitchen, where she and Quill were hanging new cupboard doors, the previous ones destroyed in the fight with Winkman and Sir Rupert Gale.
“Be right down,” he yelled back. “I’m just finishing up here.”
Stiffly, George stepped down from the ladder he was standing on, trying to ignore the aches he still felt from his injuries. He slowly turned in a circle, giving one last look to the newly painted landing. Satisfied with his work, he folded up the ladder and headed downstairs.
The kitchen looked slightly better than when he had last seen it. Holly and Quill had made ample progress, already finished with the cupboards below the counter top. Quill sat on the counter next to the sink, holding a new cupboard door for Holly as she maneuvered pins in each of the hinges. Holly herself stood on a small step ladder.
“I figured you were about done,” she said, picking up another pin. “It’s been alright in here, but slow. I thought another set of hands might help us get done faster.”
George stepped over to where his friends were, assessing their work. “I suppose,” he said. “I probably won’t be much more help than Quill though, seeing as we’re both still recovering.”
“I’ve been doing just fine, thank you very much,” Quill said, his statement only slightly tainted by a grimace and a hand pressed to his side. “Why don’t we get the other two in here? They could be working on this as well.”
George sighed, absentmindedly rubbing his glasses on the hem of his paint-splattered shirt. “They’re not here, actually,” he said. “They left, oh, about 20 or 25 minutes ago. On a walk, I think.”
All of a sudden, Holly audibly gasped, her dark eyes shining with excitement.
“Where did they go?” she asked eagerly. “Did they look happy? Excited? Did they seem nervous? Or maybe giddy?”
“I only saw them come downstairs separately, and then heard the door shut,” George answered, slightly confused by Holly’s interest.
“What does it matter?” Quill retorted. “It’s not our job to keep track of them.”
Holly didn’t answer for a moment, her face adorned by a smug smile. She left George and Quill in suspense for a second more, taking a sip of water before she cleared her throat, as if about to say something very important.
“I only have my assumptions,” she started, “and granted, these assumptions are only backed up by my intuition and subtle evidence, but, I think Lucy and Lockwood are somewhat of an item.”
George pondered the idea. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t always noticed a little something between Lucy and Lockwood. And, they had certainly always been closest to each other. But, a couple? Was it possible that Lucy and Lockwood’s relationship had finally reached another level?
“You really think so?” he asked.
“I really do. Oh, it’s just so exciting!”
“How so?”
“There’s lots of reasons,” Holly said, rather matter-of-factly. “First, I think there’s always been more between the two of them than they let on, but I get the feeling that it’s been hard for them to realize it.”
“Again, how is that exciting?”
“Because, George, maybe they’re only just now realizing that they can’t go on any longer without confessing their love.” A wide smile spread across Holly’s face and she actually giggled.
“Hold on,” Quill said. “You just told us that they might be an ‘item,’ and now you're saying they’ll confess their love for each other? That’s quite a jump.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself,” she admitted. “But, at any rate, we get to watch whatever this is unfold! Even you two have to think that’s a little bit exciting.”
George mentally added ‘romantic’ to his list of things he knew about Holly. Before he had a chance to respond, Quill was shifting his position on the counter, looking at something outside of the window above the sink.
“Here they come now,” he told George and Holly. The slightest gasp escaped his mouth. “I think they’re holding hands.”
George was instantly blindsided by a shove from Holly, a small shriek coming from the girl as she peered out the window.
“They are! I knew it!” she said triumphantly. “Oh, I wonder what happened. What do you think happened?”
She gave neither of the boys’ potential answers a second thought when the front door opened. George held out his arm to Quill, who only scowled for a moment before accepting the help down. The pair made their way over to the door, which Holly had cracked open just enough to see the entrance, where Lucy and Lockwood now stood. She crouched down a little, giving Quill enough room to see over her head while he stood beside her. George sighed, but stood behind the two and tilted his chin upwards, giving him a good enough line of sight to see through the cracked door.
A gasp came from Holly. “Look at her neck,” she whispered, barely able to contain her child-like elation.
George, by now genuinely curious about the whole situation, focused his gaze on Lucy, who was conveniently facing them. There was indeed something on her neck, or rather, around. The necklace had a gold chain, from which a blue stone hung. It was oval-shaped and beautiful, and looked like it would shine brightly in the sunlight. He wondered briefly where Lockwood had gotten it.
“I’ve seen that before,” said Quill, now seemingly almost as invested as Holly. “It was from a distance, but I know that’s what I saw. It was just before Winkman and his men attacked us. Lockwood and Lucy had been out back in the garden, I could see them from Lucy’s room. He was showing her that necklace.”
“You mean she’s had it this whole time?” Holly asked.
“I don’t think so. If I remember right, Lucy put the necklace back in its box and then they were interrupted by Winkman’s arrival. He must’ve just given it to her.”
The trio watched in silence for a few moments. Lucy and Lockwood were continuing their conversation from before they had come in, their voices soft and hard to make out. George had to admit that it seemed as if Holly was right. He couldn’t deny the new look on Lucy’s face as she looked at Lockwood. In all honesty, it was a look he had seen traces of before, especially recently. But now it was like something had clicked. Now that look was on full display. While George couldn’t see Lockwood’s face, he was certain it was just the same.
It was something different, this look. Something new. He could sense it. Something special was happening here for Lucy and Lockwood.
George stepped away from the door. The feeling he sensed between his two friends felt so intimate and private, like it was not meant for his eyes. Holly and Quill must have had the same feeling, both of them retreating from their positions as well. They waited until they heard Lucy and Lockwood walk up the stairs before talking again.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Holly said. “Obviously, as their friends, we need to make ourselves available to them as they work through their feelings. Don’t roll your eyes at me, Quill.”
The redhead sighed. “As much fun as that sounds, you seem to have forgotten that Lucy and Lockwood are two of the most emotionally closed-off people we know, and that’s including myself.”
“Then we go to them and subtly ask about it. If anything, we’ll just be giving them a nudge in the right direction.”
With that, Holly left the kitchen, her mind made up. George glanced at Quill, trying to read his mind.
“What is our life, George?”
“That’s an excellent question, Quill. But, I think it’s safe to say that meddling in Lucy and Lockwood’s love life is better than getting beat up and stabbed.”
“Fair point.”