Work Text:
It took me nearly three entire weeks after the stolen towel saga, before the opportunity arose for me to get my own back on Lockwood. Then, when it finally happened, it was completely by accident. Typical.
Lockwood and I were at another stupid Fittes party, after receiving yet another invitation that Lockwood had deemed improper to decline. George hadn’t deemed it improper to decline. The lucky sod was sat at home, doing god knows what it was that he did to relax.
I hated these fancy parties at the best of times but I especially hated it tonight. We had been so bloody busy this past week with cases and I was half exhausted. I’d had big plans for the evening, plans that involved my comfy grey pyjamas, a pepperoni pizza which was going to be just for me and a long, steaming bubble bath.
But was I doing any of that? No I wasn’t.
I glared over at Lockwood on the table next to me, where he was currently schmoozing the pants off the head guy from one of the other independent agencies. The old codger was guffawing and clapping Lockwood on the back, every time he told yet another fantastically timed anecdote, the charming dickhead.
I was bored to tears, sat there like a loner, clutching my glass of champagne and I was hellishly uncomfortable too.
I’d had to buy a new dress for this. Thankfully, this time Lockwood offered to pay for it, as a thank you for coming with him. The new bra that I’d been forced to get to go with it was digging mercilessly into my ribs.
The dress itself was a floaty, short little number, a wrap dress, the sales assistant had called it.
The bits all tied together into a bow at one side. It was a soft baby blue colour, satiny feeling and it wasn’t me at all.
I suppose objectively it was very pretty. Lockwood certainly had kept staring at me in it, so I didn’t hate it as much as I wanted to. But it wasn’t a skirt and my comfy leggings, that’s for sure.
I tugged at the hem of the thing, panicked a bit as the bow loosened and suddenly I was showing a little bit more cleavage than I had been previously. Oh dear. I needed to readjust.
I stood up, stuck my fingers in my mouth and whistled loudly to get Lockwood’s attention, earning myself disapproving glares and a few tuts from every posh hobnob in my immediate vicinity.
Lockwood caught my eye and he grinned blindingly at me though, the room narrowing down to just him, so that outweighed all the snobby judgement of me ten fold.
I jerked my thumb in the direction of the bathrooms and he nodded to show he understood.
I sank the glass of champagne I was holding and made my way up a corridor, down to where the toilets were situated.
Thankfully, they were all individual rooms, all ornately decorated, with their own little sink and light up mirror. I wasn’t in the mood for polite girly bathroom chit chat.
I slipped into one of the small rooms and latched the door behind me. I plonked my bag down and propped my rapier against the wall (that was another thing, I had to carry it, stupid dress with no belt) did my business, washed my hands and then took a moment to look at myself in the mirror above the sink.
My lip balm had stayed its course, my lips still tinged a nice deep pink colour and my cheeks were all flushed from the champagne.
I looked alright tonight, I supposed.
I plucked the underwire out from where it was digging into my skin and huffed. Damned thing was murdering me.
I had a brainwave as I took in the wrap dress in the mirror, a stupid idea really, one probably fuelled by my second glass of champagne.
I had the idea to take the ungodly bra off for a little bit.
The dress was loose enough that you’d hardly even notice if I left the bra off entirely, I thought, and the lighting was pretty dim in the party anyway.
Decided and tasting sweet freedom in the air, I undid the bow at my side and slipped down the sleeves, so that the dress pooled around my waist. I undid the clasp on the back of my bra, holding the front cups to my body with my hands.
“I release you, my poor squashed breasticles,” I sighed in relief as my boobs sprung their way to freedom, the straps going loose on my shoulders.
The bra was actually quite pretty if you were into fancy underwear I suppose, a deep blue colour that the sales assistant had encouraged me to get to “enhance my shape”. Push my bits up to my neck, was what she’d actually meant, and torture me in the process.
I took a moment to ponder what tosser even invented bras with underwire.
I mean, sports bras, they were fair enough. Especially when you were chasing after all manner of ghosts and ghouls, you didn’t want a stray boob to smack you in the eye did you? So sports bras, they were useful. But push up bras, who were they even helping? Not me, I tell you.
I shook my head. Right. Back to business. Now I’d just need to stuff the bra into my bag and head back.
Before I could complete my mission and take it properly off, the handle to the door was turning. I didn’t even panic, not even a little bit, because I’d locked it. But of course, I obviously hadn’t locked it, my life being a hilarious mix between a comedy show and a horror movie.
Between one moment and the next, the door was flung open and none other than Quill Kipps was standing in the doorway, literally gaping at the sight of me.
“What the hell are you doing there Julie?” He sounded strangled.
“Nothing! Get out of here Quill. And my name’s bloody Lucy!” I shrieked and went to kick the door shut with my foot, clasping my bra to my front like a lifeline.
Except Lockwood was suddenly standing next to Kipps, appearing as silently as a spectre, pale as one too, sharp eyes assessing the scene in front of him. He took in my state of undress and my red face and I wanted the ground to swallow me up.
Lockwood turned his attention to Kipps and if looks could kill, Quill would have been dead a hundred times over. Lockwood looked as furious as I’d ever seen him.
I just stood there, because I couldn’t very well shut the door now, not without explaining, because Lockwood was going to bloody eviscerate Kipps. Then he’d probably get in trouble for it, when nothing was even going on. My life, ladies and gentlemen.
“Luce, what the hell is going on here?” Lockwood looked half gutted when he addressed me, his eyes dragging up and down my body.
“Oh relax, it’s not what it looks like Tony,” Kipps clearly had a death wish, even going so far as to grip Lockwood’s shoulder. “I was just minding my own business when your little girlfriend over there tried to flash me.”
Lockwood had Kipps’ arm twisted and he pinned him up against the wall by his collar in a heartbeat. Kipps kept grabbing at the hand Lockwood had on him but Lockwood didn’t let up.
Kipps was stockier than Lockwood, but Lockwood was fury itself, eyes dark, anger emanating off him.
I had no choice but to leave the sanctuary of the loo, step outside into the corridor which was thankfully empty aside from us, and I yanked on Lockwood’s arm until he let him go.
I didn’t actually mind Kipps all that much. He was quite annoying but he wasn’t the worst agent. I certainly didn’t want him to die because he’d accidentally stumbled into my loo by accident and it wasn’t exactly his fault that Lockwood had a protective streak that would have given Liam Neeson a run for his money.
Movement caught my eye and I could see people making their way up the corridor. I dragged Lockwood back into the bathroom without really thinking about it and I made sure I latched the door this time, locking Kipps outside with an apologetic wince.
Lockwood stood there, hands clutched in tight fists at his side, his nostrils flaring and he was glaring intently at the hand dryer.
Bloody boys.
“He wasn’t lying Lockwood, he just got here like ten seconds before you did. I forgot to lock the door,” I rolled my eyes and turned my back on him, fumbling behind me with the catch of my bra, looking down at the sink under the mirror.
It was a lost cause, my boobs had tasted freedom, they didn’t want to go back in. Bloody things had a mind of their own tonight.
“What on earth are you doing half undressed in the bathroom Luce? I thought… I saw Kipps and then I saw you, like that and I thought…” Lockwood tapered off, breathing evening out slightly.
“You really think I’m that kind of girl?” I was getting a bit annoyed now and I still couldn’t get the bra to clasp.
“No. I don’t. But I do think Kipps is that kind of guy…” Lockwood grumped.
“I just wanted some respite from this stupid bra,” I admitted, cheeks heating.
“That’s what you were doing? Why?” Lockwood sounded genuinely curious.
“Because it’s trying to cut me in two!” I banged my elbow on the sink.
“So. Take it off then…” Lockwood’s voice had gone all deep and odd sounding.
I looked up into the mirror in front of me and I caught his gaze.
He was standing behind me and his reflection was staring over my shoulder, looking straight into my eyes.
He was doing that stupid intense eye contact thing he did, the one that made my belly do flip flops and made my heart pound in my chest.
I bit my lower lip and stared back. His mouth parted slightly and he shifted from foot to foot.
Well. Shit.
He didn’t move a muscle aside from that and I realised, this was where I got my own back for the naked streaking.
This was officially move two, in our little game of naked chicken. Now was my opportunity.
I wasn’t about to flash him entirely, I truly wasn’t that kind of girl.
I may have been eighteen but I’d lived a bit of a sheltered life back home. I’d never shown anyone any part of me naked. But for some reason, I had a burning desire to keep that desperate kind of wanting look on Lockwood’s face.
So I slipped one arm out of a bra strap, then the next. I pulled up the top of my dress, still clutching my bra to me, up until the satiny fabric was just about covering me.
I slipped the bra off entirely, just as the material of my dress took it’s place. Too fast to be a flash but still slow enough that he would have got a hint of something.
I heard a broken little sound behind me and I smirked at him, noticing his mouth had fallen open, eyes wide.
I pulled up the dress the rest of the way, wrapped it across and tied it at the side, aware he was getting an eyeful of cleavage now too, keeping my eyes on his in the mirror the entire time.
Would this be it, would this be where he broke?
I turned then and Lockwood took a step closer to me. There wasn’t a huge amount of room in the toilet anyway, so he was just centimetres away from pressing me into the sink.
I took in a deep breath, my eyes looking up and searching his and he smiled down at me, soft, genuine and in total contrast to what he’d shown everyone else so far at this stupid party.
“Better?” He whispered and his breath tickled my nose.
He smelled like an intoxicating mix of Earle grey tea, Jammy dodgers and champagne. All things I very much enjoyed.
“Much better,” I nodded, bra clutched loosely in my hand.
“I’d truly rather it if you didn’t go into toilets half naked with Kipps, please Luce,” Lockwood said lightly, but I knew he was being completely serious.
“I didn’t go into the toilet with Kipps,” I frowned. “Although, I do have to point out, it’s not really any of your business if I did though, is it?”
I couldn’t help it. Because I was right and it wasn’t his business. Not yet, anyway.
He narrowed his eyes at me, gave me a little nod that said ‘that was fair’ and he put his hands on the sink, either side of me, boxing me thoroughly in. His forearms brushed my sides.
Everything on his face said challenge accepted.
He was definitely looking at my mouth now, eyes flicking between that and my eyes, as if he didn’t know what he wanted to look at more.
His face kept getting closer and closer to mine and just when I thought he was going to kiss me senseless, a loud banging on the door made us both jump a mile.
Lockwood ran his hands through his hair with a frustrated grunt, hand going to the top of his rapier and he stepped back from me.
“We’re here to escort you both out,” Kat Godwin called out. “Kipps told me you were getting up to all sorts of unsavoury activity in here.”
“Oh for heavens sake,” Lockwood huffed.
I tried to stuff my stupid bra into my daft tiny clutch bag but it wasn’t going, not even a little bit.
Unsurprising, as the bag barely fit my lip balm.
Lockwood noticed what I was trying to do, took the bra off me with an amused smirk and he tucked it neatly into his dark suit jacket. He patted the jacket down, straightened his tie.
“What?” He said, when I raised my eyebrows.
“You’ve got my bra in your jacket,” my brain wasn’t coping with this series of events.
“Yes, I’m quite aware of that. I’m the one who put it there,” He grinned at me.
The banging on the door got even louder.
“Time to go, I suppose?” I suggested.
“Fish and chips, with a cold Fanta twist? In a can, of course. Share a pot of gravy? The Codfather is open until ten,” Lockwood offered.
“Oh my God, Lockwood yes,” I groaned loudly and then slapped a hand over my mouth instantly, realising what that might sound like to the people outside.
“Hey! Are you two actually doing it in there?!” Kipps shouted, clearly having heard me.
I went beet red and Lockwood laughed delightedly. He offered me his hand, supportive as always.
He unlatched the door and Kipps tried to grab for him.
Lockwood pulled us quickly past him and Kat, barging Kipps healthily in the shoulder as he went.
“Piss off Kipps,” Lockwood didn’t even look back as he marched us away and I had to jog a little to keep up.
“You can do so much better than Tony, Julie,” Kipps called.
“It’s Lucy!” Lockwood shouted over his shoulder, exactly the same time as I did.
——————
Fish and chips on a bench, outside the chippy, was absolute perfection. We only made our way back home when it started getting properly dark and it started to get a little chilly.
We arrived back to Portland row, laughing about the earlier events of the evening and we entered the kitchen, to find George sat there with Flo.
“Alright both?” George asked, amused smirk on his face.
“Yeah, all good Georgie,” I snagged up his waiting glass of orange juice, handed him a wrapped vinegary smelling packet that contained a fish cake and chips, and Lockwood reached for the unopened digestives. He leaned back into the kitchen counter, crossing his long legs.
“Something you might want to tell us Locky?” Flo cocked a knowing eyebrow, eyes flicking between us.
“No, I don’t think so Flo. Why?” He sounded a little guilty to me, but there was no way these two could have heard about what happened already. Lockwood was attempting gallantly to preserve what little dignity I had left, I imagined.
“Cos your nip nips are showing through your dress Lucy,” Flo offered, as casually as if she were talking about the weather.
I crossed my arms across my chest defensively.
“Plus, Lockwood’s got what appears to be a blue bra caught on his rapier handle there,” George raised his eyebrows, pointing.
“Right. Quite,” Lockwood looked down and snatched up the offending item, cheeks pink.
“I literally can’t even be bothered to explain. I’m going to bed,” I couldn’t deal with the teasing that was about to happen, it had been a long bloody night.
Lockwood caught me gently by the wrist, just as I reached the base of the stairs leading up to my attic.
“Hey, Luce. Here’s your bra back,” He held it out to me, teeth set nervously in his lower lip.
“Thanks,” I cringed.
I was thinking about burning it. What a hell of a night.
“So. I figure it’s my turn now then?” Lockwood offered, voice a bit shy all of a sudden. He looked at me and grinned, taking all the awkwardness away with the force of his smile, there in that tiny hallway.
He tugged on the strap on the bra I was now holding and our fingers touched. He didn’t move away.
“What’s your turn?” I smiled back, despite being a bit dazed and confused. That sometimes happened when Lockwood turned his full charm and attention on you.
“Well. You saw my backside the other week. I’ve now seen a hint of your… chest region. It’s my turn now, I should think?” His eyes twinkled playfully and I suddenly realised, this thing between us was going to be moving forward at a strange and uneven pace.
He was as inexperienced as I was. But it was moving forward, nonetheless. His thumb dancing over the back of my hand said so.
It was going to be delightfully comfortable at times, horrendously emotional and messy at others, equal measures of teasing, fun and maybe some healing of old heartache, and god, was I ok with all of that.
I felt like whatever was beginning between us was going to burn me up and I wanted every second of it, all the smouldering looks, all the hand holding, all the awkward moments.
“Can’t bloody wait,” I beamed at him.
——————
I came down from my attic the next morning to find George and Lockwood each wearing a bra over their clothing, making breakfast, pretending nothing was amiss.
They weren’t my bras, so god knows where they’d got them from.
They both kept punching each other in the arm and laughing, ribbing me gently, but it surprisingly did help me feel less awkward about the whole situation.
Lockwood made my toast and tea, then he kept grinning over at me when he finally sat down. I knew that making me feel better about it all had been exactly his intention. I was grateful for him, even if he and George kept honking each others bra cups.
Bloody boys.
In fact, the whole fiasco only ended when Lockwood accidentally answered the door to Inspector Barnes later that afternoon, with one cup of a bright yellow bra with hearts on, sat neatly on his head.
It was a far cry from how Lockwood liked the public to receive him. He wasn’t at all amused about it when he realised. Barnes didn’t even tell him.
So when I joined them in the living room, it was as much a surprise to me, as it had been to Barnes. I laughed so hard when I saw him offering Barnes a piece of cake with a bra on his head, I actually cried a bit.
I got the offending garment thrown directly at my face, for my trouble.
——————