Chapter Text
Lockwood was tired. He sat alone in the back of a taxi, on the way home from a solo case he’d just completed. He mindlessly stared out of the window, longing for his bed. The case hadn’t been difficult, but it had been time consuming. The ghost had only come out during a small window of time in the dead of night and it would always manifest in a different room. The case had taken him several days.
He’d finally located the Source and caught the bastard that night. But he was exhausted. He hadn’t slept properly because of this case. And George had stopped listening to his complaining after one night. So he had it all bottled up, which just added to his exhaustion.
Man, he missed Lucy.
Lucy had taken a week of leave to visit her hometown. At first, he’d tried to convince her to take him with her, but she’d rightly pointed out that if he came, he would be leaving George in charge of the company, and the thought of that made him shudder.
“You’ll be fine, Lockwood,” she’d said.
“What if I have the sudden urge to hug someone? Then what?” Lockwood had pouted in return.
“Hug George.”
“And get smacked in the face? No thank you.”
Lucy had kissed him and said, “It’s just five days. You’ll manage.”
He’d sighed and told her to say hi to Norrie for him. Then they’d held each other in a long embrace before Lucy stepped onto the train.
The first day after she left, he didn’t exactly miss her, but he did have to keep reminding himself that she wasn’t there. He’d called her down for dinner, half ascended the stairs, and started talking to her before he remembered she wasn’t around. To his embarrassment, George called him out on it every time.
The second day she’d been gone he got used to it. He’d catch himself before yelling her name, or start pointing out something he knew she’d enjoy. It was also the first day of this case he’d been working on. He welcomed the distraction and used it as an opportunity for some bonding with George. They’d done the research together and discussed strategies, and it had started to feel like old times again. George had joined him that first night, but once they realised that two people were unnecessary - almost a hindrance even - to the case, George had stayed behind.
The third day she’d been away was when he started missing her. He wanted to recount what had happened on the case to her. George, having been there, had heard and agreed with all his comments and complaints the night before. He wasn’t interested in being a sounding cushion for Lockwood’s vents. But Lockwood knew that Lucy would listen to him, no matter how many times he would complain about the same thing. He loved that she was a good listener, and he tried hard to reciprocate.
It was his fourth day of being without her, the longest he’d gone without seeing her since they met. The longing had turned into a dull ache (that he would admit to no one), and the lack of sleep was starting to get to him. The thought of a nice warm shower, soft pyjamas, and a good nights rest had pushed him through the work.
He paid the taxi driver and entered Portland Row. He shrugged off his coat and hung it on the coat rack, not noticing that the hook that had been empty for the past four days now had a coat hanging from it. He grabbed his pyjamas from his room and indulged in a nice long shower. He brushed his teeth and left the bathroom, looking forward to lying down on his soft, comfortable bed and sleeping for far too many hours.
He walked past the door to the library and noticed the light was on. George must be doing some late night reading, Lockwood supposed. He knocked quietly, opening the door to stick his head in and say goodnight.
What he saw instead was a sight for Lockwood’s sore eyes.
Lucy sat huddled on the sofa, shoes kicked off onto the floor and her legs tucked next to her. Her head leant on her left arm, which was resting on the arm of the couch. Her right arm held the book she was reading open on her lap. She wore black shorts with a light blue jumper on top. Her hair was slightly messy from travelling.
“Lucy?” Lockwood asked incredulously.
Lucy looked up and grinned at him. “I’m back!”
Lockwood closed the door behind him as he moved towards her. Lucy shifted around as Lockwood climbed onto her lap, his long legs hanging over the other arm of the sofa. She put her book down and wrapped her arms around him as he wrapped his arms around her neck. He nuzzled his face into her neck, inhaling her scent and enjoying being held.
“Hello to you, too,” Lucy said, amused. “Nice pyjamas, by the way.”
Lockwood blushed, but was too happy to be embarrassed by it.
“I missed you,” he said, pressing his nose into her cheek.
“It was four days!”
“Mm-hmm,” he said. He pressed a long kiss to her cheek. “Imagine what would have happened to me if you had stayed an extra day.”
“Let me guess,” she said sarcastically. “You would have been fine?”
“Hardly,” he groaned, pressing more kisses all over her face. “Why are you back early? Not that I’m complaining.”
Lucy flushed. “I missed you.”
Lockwood gasped and poked her playfully. “And here you are giving me a hard time about it?”
Lucy poked him back hard, causing Lockwood to squirm. “Don’t get sassy, Anthony,” she said, staring him with a playful glint in her eye. “You know what happens to sassy boys.”
Her fingers slipped under his pyjama shirt, lightly touching his skin. Lockwood shivered, eyes widening.
“You wouldn’t,” he said, alert.
In response, Lucy just skirted her hands to just below his ribs and pressed at his sides.
“No, wait, Luce!” Lockwood giggled, squirming away from her. “Mercy, please!”
Lucy kept tickling him, shuffling out from under him, until he was lying on the couch and she was straddling him. Lockwood gripped her arms, tears falling out of his eyes from laughing.
Lucy stopped and let Lockwood catch his breath.
“Thank you,” he panted, smiling up at her, with big earnest eyes. “I love you.”
Lucy smiled warmly. “I love you, too.”
He could still feel the tips of Lucy’s fingers on his skin, warm and ready for round two. He braced himself for her to start tickling him again.
Her biggest flaw, in Lockwood’s opinion, was that she was not ticklish. It meant that he could not retaliate, and she had a massive upper hand on him.
But Lucy didn’t start again. Her hands stayed where they were, but rubbed small circles into his skin with her thumbs, which made him sigh. She slowly leant down so her face was a breath away from his. Her eyes studied each feature of his face, lingering on his mouth. His breath hitched and his heart raced. He raised his chin slightly to meet her lips, but she moved just out of reach. Her hands slid to his back and she lightly brushed her nails up and down his spine. Lockwood’s breathing shallowed.
“Lucy,” he whispered hoarsely, desperate.
“Say please,” she whispered back, bumping her nose with his.
“Please,” he strangled out.
She leant down and chastely pressed her lips to his. He reached his hands into her hair, trying to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away. She climbed off him and walked slowly towards the door.
Lockwood whined a, frankly embarrassing, whimper at the loss of contact. Lucy turned around, eyebrows raised.
“…Please don’t tell George I made that sound.”
Lucy just smirked and continued sauntering to the door.
“Wait, Lucy.” Lockwood stumbled after her, spinning her around and holding her face to kiss her properly. They both groaned quietly in satisfaction, holding each other close and releasing their pent up feelings.
“Can’t let you think you can get away with not giving me a proper goodnight kiss,” Lockwood murmured when they parted for air.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lucy said, eyes slightly glazed in bliss. “But now it’s time for bed.”
“Yes,” Lockwood said, kissing her on each cheek and then her mouth one more time. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Lockwood went to bed happy, looking forward to his dreams being full of Lucy.