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Lockwood knew he was attractive in the same way he knew salt bombs would dispel a Shade.
He'd learned over the years that there was very little he couldn't accomplish when he spoke with people face-to-face. His smiles could open doors, calm tempers, eliminate consequences, and generally get him wherever he needed to go. Very few were immune, and never for long. Lockwood's charm worked like a river, running over the same rough surfaces again and again and again until, quite without anyone noticing, he'd carved a path exactly where he wanted it. Barnes was a great example of this method in action, thought he'd never admit any kind of fondness for Lockwood or his agency.
In fact, it was Lockwood's charisma that had landed them the previous night's case. The client had been reluctant to trust such a small agency - and one with no supervisors, at that - but he employed his most charming smile and soothing tone, and within minutes Lockwood & Co. had been hired.
He'd heard Lucy refer to it as "The Lockwood Effect," while George preferred the term "Pretty Privilege." Both appealed to his ego more than he cared to admit.
Still, his looks were primarily a tool like the ones he clipped to his belt before each case. And while Lockwood could see how much his appearance affected others, he couldn't quite understand why.
Sure, he could tell when people were conventionally attractive, could see the appeal of a certain facial symmetry. Take last night's client, for example - a University student whose cat refused to set foot inside her new flat. She'd had a wide-eyed giggly helplessness to her that he often saw in attractive people - she was used to others solving her problems for her. That coupled with her long, shiny hair (which she flipped back and forth over her shoulder quite a few times) and pleasing features meant that both Lucy and George had disliked her immediately.
(Not that Lockwood felt any differently - but as the head of the agency, he couldn't very well scoff at the way his clients batted their eyelashes or dropped hints that they were single. He did have a professional image to maintain.)
So sure, she was an objectively beautiful woman; but in his eyes, all beautiful people kind of looked the same. They all had the same soft nose or sharp jaw or high cheekbones. At the end of the day, they were sort of boring to look at.
At this thought, Lockwood glanced over the top of his magazine. Lucy was slouched in the armchair across from him, flipping through one of his old detective novels. She'd been in a Mood™ since they'd finished the case, which meant George was hiding in his room - he and Lucy bickered like siblings, but they found that when one of them was genuinely annoyed, having the other around could only make things worse.
She frowned at the book like it had personally offended her, one hand gripping the paperback with frankly unnecessary force while the other played with her necklace.
And all he could think as he watched her read was that Lucy's face was interesting.
She had strong features, befitting a strong agent. Lockwood considered himself to be something of an unstoppable force, but he'd never truly encountered an immovable object until he'd met her. She was the only thing that could stop him in his tracks. Lucy stood her ground, met every obstacle head-on, and never hesitated to do what needed to be done. In the face of every challenge, her thick eyebrows would furrow, cutting a dark line across her round, pale face.
He'd first seen it in her interview, when she threatened to physically fight George for annoying her, and most recently last night, when she'd sliced clean through the Type Two hiding in their client's kitchen.
His eyes fell to her mouth, as they so often did when no one was looking. Her lips had a natural downturn to them, which made her smiles all the sweeter; but he would never begrudge her frowns. Her face seemed to have been designed to carry righteous fury. Whether aimed at a visitor or Quill Kipps or a pretty young client who wouldn't stop touching Lockwood's arm, she wore anger well, looking so much like an avenging warrior.
Lucy sometimes directed that anger at him, occasionally when he said something stupid, but mostly to scold him for being reckless. But jumping into danger only ever felt right to him. Reckless was standing just a tad too close to her, so she'd have to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. Her eyes were large and round and hazel, and sometimes she did something swoopy with her eyeliner that made them look even bigger. It was dangerous, being so close. When Lucy looked up at him, eyes wide and expression expectant, everything in his world made perfect sense. He'd quickly learned that when she looked at him like that, it was hard to deny her anything.
If she would only look over at him now, set aside her book and direct her fiery gaze to him, he thought he might grant her whatever she asked for.
In his weaker moments, usually right as he was falling asleep, he would imagine holding her face in his hands. His thumbs would brush over her round cheeks, the angles of her strong jaw, the long line of her nose. He could smooth out the wrinkle between her brows, maybe coax her mouth into a smile, or at least get her lips to form around those pleasing Northern vowels while she mocked him.
And if he happened to notice other things, like how well-proportioned her hips were, well. He did have the best Sight of anyone he knew.
Shaking his head to clear these thoughts away, Lockwood set his magazine down. "Everything alright, Luce?"
She hummed noncommittally, still frowning at her book.
"You did excellent work last night - but that's not surprising. You always do."
She glanced up at him for just a moment, frown lessening slightly at the praise. "Wasn't a very difficult case," she said, mostly to the book. "Even for a Type Two."
"No," he agreed. After a pause, he added, "The client, on the other hand..."
This got Lucy's attention (finally). She blinked at him, and for a second he lost his train of thought. Then she said, "The client, yeah. She was...friendly."
Lockwood fought to keep himself from grinning. Lucy said the word 'friendly' like it was a curse - and considering that her two least favorite things were small talk and posh people (himself excluded), maybe that's what it was for her. Still, he was determined to lighten her mood. "I hope this won't make you think any less of me," he said conspiratorially, leaning towards her, "but I don't have much patience for people who can't fend for themselves."
Lucy blinked again, the corners of her mouth lifting. "No?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I know not everyone can be incredibly gifted agents like us," he went on, adopting a superior tone that usually made her roll her eyes, "but really. The incompetence of the general public when it comes to dealing with Visitors is appalling."
"If they were more competent you wouldn't get to swoop in and save them, and then you'd never end up in the papers," she pointed out. She was definitely fighting a smile now.
"Lucy Carlyle," he said, holding a hand to his chest dramatically, "your lack of faith is astounding. Surely you know that even if everyone in England were an agent, Lockwood & Co. would still be the most prestigious agency in the country."
She smiled fully now, all traces of annoyance gone. "Obviously."
There was something like fondness in her eyes, and he couldn't have looked away from her if he tried. More quietly, more seriously, he said, "And if I had the choice of everyone in England, well. I'd still want a fighter by my side." I'd still want you by my side.
Lucy seemed to hear the words he couldn't quite say. Her smile widened and her eyes crinkled and she traced the chain of Jessica's necklace between her fingers. "If everyone in England were an agent..." she murmured, still holding him in place with her gaze. "I suppose George and I would let you stick around."
He laughed. "Very kind of you both."
Lucy went back to her book with a smile on her face, and he went back to studying her over the top of his magazine. Soon he would slip out under the guise of putting the kettle on so he could let George know it was safe to come out, but for now, he couldn't help being a little selfish and keeping her smile all to himself.