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1.
It’s been a long night, though those aren’t unusual for the residents of 35 Portland Row at this point. Still, Lucy can feel the tiredness in her bones as Lockwood and her settle down at the kitchen table, jackets and belts draped over the chairs.
They’d opted to go straight home, while George had insisted on getting some donuts from the corner shop so they wouldn’t have to go out again later on, and Lucy had been too tired to argue.
“I’m sure he’ll be here in a minute.” Lockwood says, stifling a yawn, and really, they should have just gone to bed, but the prospect of a donut after the night they’ve had, had seemed way too good to pass up on.
“Sure.” Lucy agrees, but she can already feel her eyelids drooping. She really should have gone to bed, or well, at the very least she should have taken a shower and then crashed, but now they’re here, and getting up the stairs feels like a chore rather than a reward.
She’s not entirely sure when she’s drifted off to sleep, but some time must have passed, because it’s the sound of the front door opening and closing that wakes her up, and it takes Lucy a moment to come back to herself.
She’d fallen asleep with her arms on the table and her head resting on top of them, and now that she blinks her eyes open, she can see that Lockwood has, too.
Their arms are touching where they’re on the table, and Lucy can feel the warmth radiating off the other’s skin.
Her heart skips a beat easily at the sight of a slightly disheveled Lockwood blinking the sleep from his eyes, too.
“Donuts!” George then grins enthusiastically as he steps into the kitchen, and the moment passes, but Lucy’s heart continues to beat just a little faster in her chest.
2.
“Can you believe she slept with that locket in her bedside table and couldn’t explain why the ghost of her great grandma would be appearing to her at night?” George asks, shaking his head as he glances down at his notebook, where he’d begun scribbling down things about the case.
They’d spent most of the night waiting for the ghost to appear, only to be called by their client eventually, frantically telling them that the ghost had followed her to her friend’s place somehow.
It should have been an easy case, and yet they had wasted precious hours looking for a source that had been taken out of the house with their client.
“You take the skull into the bathtub with you, George.” Lucy says, one eyebrow raised as she tries to hold back a yawn.
“Yes, but it’s properly secured, that’s entirely different.” He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand, and Lucy wants to protest, but the decides that it’s really not worth it, so she lets it go.
Lockwood’s been awfully quiet ever since the train has left the station, but before Lucy can look over to check on him, she feels a weight on her shoulder, and when she does turn towards him, she finds that he’s fast asleep, his breath even and his body relaxed, or well, as relaxed as one can be sitting up in a train compartment.
Lucy feels her cheeks heating up ever so slightly as her own tiredness begins to overtake her and she’s suddenly hyper aware of the way Lockwood’s leg presses against hers.
They’ve been awake for far too long and resting her head against Lockwood’s seems tempting.
If she’s lucky, he won’t even notice, he’s asleep after all.
Across the seat from her, George rolls his eyes and continues to scribble down into his notebook, glancing up only when Lucy’s already fast asleep.
3.
It’s rare that they get to stay over in a place they work at, at least without spending most of the night fighting off ghosts and finding their sources, this case, however, is a little different.
Mrs. White, the sweet, old lady who owns the Wayward Inn just outside of London, had offered them a room to sleep in for the night, just in case the ghost wouldn’t make an appearance that night, and even though it had, the three of them had all been glad to be able to have a bed to sleep in after neutralizing the source.
George’s research about the Inn had helped, and Mrs. White had been very forthcoming, and yet the type two ghost had given them a run for their money, so to speak.
Lucy remembers Lockwood briefly suggesting driving home, but George had already been passed out on the small couch in their room, snoring peacefully, and they hadn’t wanted to wake him, so they must have collapsed on the bed too, because when she blinks her eyes open, the morning light is streaming in through the curtains softly.
It smells faintly of lavender, and Lucy can feel her heart skipping a beat at the sudden closeness of Lockwood, who’s still fast asleep next to her, his face only inches away for her own.
She considers pulling away, maybe getting up to take a shower, but before there’s even a chance to move, his eyes open, too, and Lucy feels her breath catching in her throat.
“Good morning.” His voice is still thick with sleep, and even though he’s slept in the clothes from the night before, he manages to look as dashing as ever.
Or maybe Lucy enjoys this look a little more than she likes to admit to begin with. There’s just something about Lockwood in a disheveled state, not dressed to the nines and putting on a mask like he usually does, that makes her heart beat a little faster inside her chest.
“Good morning.” She manages eventually, watching as the corners of his lips curve into a soft smile.
“What time is it?” Lockwood adds, but before Lucy can reply, George chimes in from his place on the couch.
“Breakfast time, I hope. I’m starving,” he groans, “Everything hurts.”
“Well maybe next time don’t trip over your own feet,” Lucy says as she sits up, and the moment between Lockwood and her passes.
Which, honestly, is probably for the best.
4.
When Lucy wakes up, it’s dark outside, safe for the occasional flash of the ghost lamp right outside the house. The only light in the living room is the small table lamp that’s been left on, but it’s not enough to illuminate the whole room.
It takes her a moment to realize what’s going on and that, the familiar heartbeat she can hear is, for once, not as loud and clear because of her gift, but because she’s somehow draped across Lockwood, her head resting on his chest.
Oh.
She instantly feels her own heart skip a beat before it begins to hasten, and somehow, she’s glad that the other isn’t as good of a listener as she is.
Lucy doesn’t move, but instead tries to remember how they ended up here in the first place. Glancing up she can see that Lockwood is still holding onto a magazine he’s been reading, and she vaguely remembers bringing a book downstairs, though she can’t really spot it anywhere, not that it matters.
Lockwood looks almost peaceful like that, chest rising and sinking quietly, with his hair just a little out of place, and Lucy catches herself staring.
There’s a blanket draped over them, too, but before she can even begin to unpack that, she can detect the change in Lockwood’s heartbeat and instantly feels like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
“Uh...did you...” He mutters, blinking the sleep from his eyes and pointing at the blanket.
“No.” Lucy replies, and manages to sit upright, suddenly very glad for the dim light in the room.
“Right.” Lockwood nods, reaching down to adjust his shirt. “We should probably...go to bed.” And with that the moment passes, yet again.
5.
Lucy’s beginning to sense a pattern eventually.
Truthfully, Lockwood and her have always kind of gravitated towards each other and while George is equally important to her, the feelings at play are entirely different.
“You okay, Luce?” She’s heard him come up the stairs long before he’d arrived, and even though she’s tucked beneath her blanket, she feels the cold seeping into her bones easily.
It had been a close call today, even though George had done his research, they’d been confronted with more ghosts than they had expected.
Most of them had been type ones, so they had been easily dealt with, but the type twos...Lucy doesn’t really want to think about it.
Lockwood likes to pretend that he’s fine, but she’d seen the fear in his eyes when the translucent hand had stretched out towards him, and for a moment she’d been transported back to the vision she’d received down in the chapel’s basement, when they’d nearly been forced to take a look into the bone glass.
Lockwood, frozen in place, his skin pale and his eyes wide open.
It’s enough to make her shiver and she feels the bed dip as he settles down onto it.
“You should get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” Lucy knows that he’s right, but the thought of falling asleep, and possibly seeing that vision again, are terrifying enough to keep her body on high alert.
“You’re one to talk.” She says quietly, her hand slipping from beneath the covers to find his almost automatically, and Lockwood’s already halfway there to meet her.
There’s no comeback, no complaint, as he slips off his shoes and settles against the headboard, all the while never letting go of her hand. It’s warm, compared to her own, and Lucy shivers again, but refuses to let go.
“Can you stay? At least until I fall asleep?” Her voice is quiet again as it breaks the silence, and she can barely make out the way Lockwood’s lips curve into a soft smile.
He doesn’t say anything, but the grip of his hand around hers stays tight, and Lucy feels some of the tension in her body dissolve as sleep overtakes her senses eventually.
+1
It’s the second time tonight that Lucy is up, pacing around the house and unable to sleep. She can feel the tiredness in her bones, but her mind seems to be on high alert from their latest case, still.
She knows Lockwood has managed to at least take a shower, while George probably fell into bed with his mud-stained clothes still on. She can hear him snoring through the closed door as she shuffles downstairs to get herself a glass of water.
Lockwood’s room seems quiet, and she catches herself standing on the landing for a moment, eyes closed, as she listens for his heartbeat.
It’s easily detectable, a quiet and steady heartbeat that’s become so familiar to her that it’s calming enough to make her forget just how long she’s been standing there.
You feel safe with him. Penelope Fittes’ voice echoes in the back of her mind and Lucy’s eyes fly open instantly.
She remembers trying to wave the other woman’s words off and pushing them as far down as she possibly could, but they seem to float back to the surface so easily now, and Lucy thinks back to all the times she’d caught herself falling asleep next to Lockwood.
She’d learned to always sleep with one eye open, so to speak, it’s something that comes with the job, but with Lockwood around she feels like she can get some rest, she feels protected, she feels...safe.
It takes her a moment to realize that she’s moved closer to Lockwood’s door, hand already on the door handle.
It’s probably a bad idea, especially considering the last time she’s barged into his room in the middle of the night, they’d ended up fighting the ghost of Annabelle Ward, and yet Lucy can’t quite stop herself from turning the handle to step into the room.
It’s quiet and dark, only the light from the streetlamps falling in through the half-drawn curtains, and she has half a mind to simply turn around and leave again, when she notices the other stirring.
“Luce?” Lockwood’s voice is quiet and thick with sleep as she watches him wipe his eyes and sit up, his demeanor changing from sleepy to alert within seconds. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. No. I mean...sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.” She mutters, hands coming up to fiddle with the hem of her shirt. “I can’t sleep.”
“Rough case.” Lockwood nods, and even though he relaxes a little at the prospect of no immediate danger, she can feel the tension in the room lingering.
“You could have died.” She’d yelled at him already, like she always does when he pulls a dangerous stunt, and the memory of that vision flashes before her eyes again, but she can’t really tell him that, can she?
So Lucy usually just shoves him instead and then wraps her arms around him tightly to make sure he’s still there, that he hasn’t left her, willingly or not.
“Well, I didn’t. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” There’s a half smile on his lips that finally breaks the tension, and before she can change her mind, Lucy closes the distance between herself and the bed, slipping beneath the covers.
They fit together perfectly, like they’ve done this many times before, and it takes her a moment to realize that they have. It had become their thing without either of them even realizing, but the safety and warmth of Lockwood’s arms wrapping around her as she settles against his side hits her like a wave pulling her under, but for the first time in what feels like forever, she doesn’t feel like she’s drowning.
“Yeah well, don’t ever do that again.” She mutters into his chest as he adjusts the covers over them for a moment before his arms come to envelop her once more.
She knows it’s not a promise he can truly make, but Lucy doesn’t really expect him to stick to it.
“I promise.” The attempt is enough to at least tide her over until next time, and she knows the world is going to look a little brighter tomorrow anyway, when they’re all sitting in the kitchen and having donuts for breakfast.
“Good.” She adds, her eyes almost automatically slipping shut as she allows his familiar heartbeat to lull her to sleep within seconds.