Chapter Text
There are half-moons on Lucy’s palms from where her nails are digging in. Her grey uniform, which until now has felt like a shield, suddenly feels too tight and scratchy. She’s obscured by one of the columns at the house’s entrance, but she can clearly hear the people on the steps. She wills her lungs to calm down, scared that her breathing is too loud and will alert the men that she’s there. She catches the end of something one of them is saying.
“–not needed, Tony,” Kipps taunts. “My team is more than capable to finish this job and we’re not looking to split this commission.”
“Come on, Kipps,” Lockwood replies. “We worked well together during the outbreak, didn’t we? Sure we can do this one as well.”
One of them walks up the steps and Lucy moves further into the dark.
“What’s your interest for this case anyway? You do realize it’s near morning and we’re almost done here, right?”
“Let’s say I’m working on something and there might be some documents in this house that will help me with it.”
“No, sorry, Lockwood,” Kipps says. “I actually have too many people here, but if we accidentally leave the door open when we’re done…” he trails off. Lucy knows Lockwood will get the hint, but she’s grateful that Kipps is trying to keep him away.
She knew this day would come. She has been strategic, never caught by the cameras, never mentioned on the newspaper. The past month has been a lesson in avoidance, but now there’s no way to hide it. When she left Lockwood and Co., she said she wouldn’t join another agency yet here she is now, a full-fledged Fittes agent and a great one at that. Kipps had managed to get her assigned to his team citing how well she had worked with him, Bobby, and Kat. And now he had an empty spot. Penelope Fittes had been all too glad to offer her a job.
Her first month as a freelancer had been chaotic, but rewarding. She had learned more about her Talents than ever before, but with freelancing came uncertainty and a lack of resources. So when she ran into Kipps after a job Fittes had hired her for, she had listened to his pitch again. They had spoken about her reasons for leaving Lockwood and Co.. Lucy had been vague enough, never mentioning her ability to talk to type threes or the fetch. Kipps had agreed to give her freedom to explore her talent. Her only other asks were to not be in any media the team did and that Lockwood would never find out. Kipps had said that was a ridiculous stipulation, there was no way Lockwood wouldn’t find out, but she had a plan. After all, she didn’t think she would stay at Fittes forever, all she had to do was manage a few months.
She knew that Lockwood would see it as the ultimate betrayal. He would see it as a personal affront. Yet she had signed her name on the line and joined Kipps’ team.
Now, her time was up and she was going to come face to face with Lockwood again for the first time in two months.
She steps away from the shadows and finally sees the two men. The falling snow is not heavy, joining the white grounds and reflecting the light of the approaching sunrise.
Kipps, dressed in Fittes grey and facing away from her, acting as a wall between Lockwood and the entrance. Lockwood doesn’t notice her right away, he’s wearing his usual suit and coat, rapier at his hip. He’s standing a few steps below Kipps. Her heavy boots signal her arrival and he finally sees her.
Immediately she can tell his emotions, confusion first, then anger. He masks his anger quickly and just nods.
“Lu–Ms. Carlyle.” She can deal with anger, but It’s his indifference that hurts her.
Kipps turns and rolls his eyes at her. “Well, cat is out of the bag. Please no yelling, we have an angry Wraith inside that doesn’t need any additional encouragement. Carlyle, you have ten minutes until I expect you back.” Kipps makes his way inside, but lays a surprisingly comforting hand on her arm before disappearing into the house. She sees Lockwood notice the gesture and swallow.
She’s rooted to the floor. Lockwood doesn’t move either. She might as well start.
“I wanted to tell you…and George and Holly,” she starts because it’s true. She thought of ways to tell them, but they always fell flat. “I just didn’t know how to. I don’t want you to think I left Lockwood and Co. just to join Fittes, that’s–“
“Ms. Carlyle,” he answers. His eyes are as dark as ever when he makes eye contact. She sees the signs of fatigue that mirror her own there. “There’s no need to explain, seeing as you’re no longer associated with my agency. Have a good night.”
He starts making his way down the stairs and Lucy follows him, suddenly desperate to explain.
“Lockwood, wait! Please just–please, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” She stands before him at the bottom of the stairs. She wants to reach for him, grab his shoulders and make him look at her, make him see how sorry she really is to not have kept her word.
“You know what’s almost funny?” he asks with a snide smile. “You think I’m upset that you didn’t tell me when I’m actually furious at myself for being so worried about you.”
His words open a gash in her chest. He doesn’t seem nearly done.
“You gave all these excuses about your Talent and how it would affect us,” Lockwood laughs. “If you just wanted to go work for Fittes, you should’ve said it. I would have opened the door myself to let you out. But no, you lied and for the past two months I’ve spent all my time wondering if you were fine, plotting how to get you back. And for what, Lucy? You’ve clearly been just fine without us.”
“That’s not true, I miss you all. I joined Fittes because–“
“What?”
What is she supposed to say? Freelancing was too hard? Never having anyone watch her back got too tiring? Fittes offered her protections that she didn’t have as an independent? All excuses. The real reason is right in front of her. Because you’re not there and I can’t put you at risk.
“God, George said you would do this.” That hurts, so George thought her promises to stay independent were bullshit. Maybe she should feel comforted to have someone know her so well. “He said you would join an agency and I fought him on it. Even Holly supported me when I said you would never do that. I was so wrong about you. I think I was always wrong about you.”
If this is what he needs, she’ll give it to him. She’ll let him lash out. She’s never thought of Lockwood as cruel before, but even his kindness must have limits.
“I do wish you the best,” he finally says. “I just—I just hope I never see you again.”
With that, Lockwood leaves, his mission forgotten. His long strides make it easy to disappear into the night through the garden fence.
When Kipps comes to get her after a few minutes, she’s sitting on the steps with a tear-stained face. He sends her home and tells her the team is done securing the source.
Lucy grabs her kit bag and follows the same path as Lockwood. Knowing there’s no way to find a cab in this neighbourhood, she makes her way to the tube station as the sun rises.
Of course, there’s one more person waiting for the tube at this early hour. Of course, that person is Lockwood.
He sits on one of the benches, his elbows rest on his knees and his face is hidden by his hands. He must hear her walking and she sees him physically tense up when he turns to see her. Lucy takes the bench to his right.
They don’t wait long and when the tube arrives, Lucy goes in first. She figures she should remove herself from his presence, it’s the least she can do. The car is empty, so she takes a window seat towards the back, leaving her bag by her feet. She doesn’t look back, but guesses he’ll go into a different car.
Only he goes in and sits next to her. Lockwood doesn’t acknowledge her; his hands are grasping his knees like he’s trying to keep himself anchored. Lucy is too aware of his body pressed next to hers. His black trousers next to her charcoal ones. The snow on his hair is melting and dripping on his white shirt, leaving wet splotches. Lucy wants to take off her gloves and run her fingers through his hair.
They sit in silence for a while. Maybe he sat next to her out of habit and now is regretting it. They’re near his stop and she wants to say something. Maybe blurt out another apology, maybe well wishes for George and Holly. She says nothing. Lockwood misses his stop.
“You missed your stop.” He doesn’t reply.
She reaches and places a hand over his. He recoils. “Sorry, you–you missed your stop.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“I can move.”
“Huh?”
“Maybe you sat next to me by accident,” she says. “You know, force of habit? I can move if you want.”
He sighs and it sounds oddly wet. He looks at her with the same dark eyes she hasn’t stopped thinking about since she moved out of Portland Row. “No, Lucy. It wasn’t by accident.”
It’s her turn to sigh and look away.
“Is it Kipps?” He asks and his tone is softer, like if by not raising his voice she won’t hear him and then he won’t have to hear her answer.
“What do you mean?” But she knows exactly what Lockwood means.
“The way he–the way he touched you didn’t seem very professional. So, did you leave so you could work for your boyfriend? Are you two a thing now?”
“We’re just friends,” she answers him. “He’s been there for me and–“
“And you have no one else,” he finishes her sentence. “Whose fault is that?”
Lucy knows hurt like he must be feeling right now because it mirrors her own.
“I did the right thing leaving. And I know I should’ve told you I was joining Fittes, but that would’ve been a personal courtesy, not a professional requirement. I don’t work for you anymore.”
“Trust me, I’m aware you don’t.”
“Would you have been equally as angry at me if I had joined any other agency?”
He takes time to reply and it makes Lucy nervous. “I know being with an agency is what’s safest for you. And–and I don’t think I’m mad at you for joining Fittes. I’m mad because it’s not me keeping you safe.”
“I don't need you keeping me safe, Lockwood–“
“I know you don't. I just want to understand why Lucy. All your arguments about not putting your team at risk are null now.”
“I know.”
The train reaches her stop and he stands up to let her out. She’ll have to walk fifteen minutes to get home, but the walk in the cold morning will help her clear her head. It’s a last second decision to grab his hand and drag him behind her.
They stand on the platform and she goes to apologize for making him get out of the train. She just needed more time with him. Instead, Lockwood grabs the bag from her hand. “Where are we even?”
“Tooting. I’m renting a flat here.”
“Oh,” he says as they start walking towards the station exit. “I thought you would be living at Fittes.”
She shakes her head. “I’ve only been at Fittes for a month. After I left, I stayed at an inn briefly until I found this flat.”
They continue walking. Snow is falling down hard now and Lucy wraps her arms around herself, the Fittes jacket not enough for the January winter. Lockwood must notice and, probably cold himself, puts an arm around her shoulders. It’s tender gesture that warms her down to her toes. It feels too familiar for them, like something they shouldn’t be doing. Lucy wonders what they must look like to the very few people out this early, their closeness meant for the type of relationship they've never had.
She’s guiding him down the streets, her neighbourhood so different from Marylebone. Lucy wonders what he’ll think of her small flat with the peeling yellow linoleum floor and old paint. He’ll probably think it’s a dump, used to his Central London townhouse. Suddenly she’s self-conscious of the state of the flat. She surely left dirty laundry on the floor and more than one half-empty cup of tea sitting on her table.
They reach the high-rise and she opens the front door of the building to let him in. “No lock?”
“Nope.”
She leads him up the stairs and remembers she left the Skull perched on the ledge above her bed. Fuck. That’s somethings she doesn’t want to deal with right now. Lucy has only brought him on a couple of solo cases with Fittes, so tonight she left him at the flat. She just can’t handle his gibes and Lockwood. She asks Lockwood to stay outside for a second so she can hide the Skull and clean up, only she doesn’t say that, she says she needs to change.
The green light of the source illuminates the room as she turns on her lamp and starts shoving dirty clothes in her closet. The Skull notices her.
“Well, you finally came back, now you’re a Fittes girl you’re all high and might, huh? Think you can just leave me here all the time? One day I will figure out how to escape and I will just show up at your job. What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”
“You are going in the closet and your valve is going to be on. Bye!” She places the jar on top of a dirty jumper and covers it with another, dimming the green light.
Lucy quickly changes out of her uniform and into an old t-shirt and leggings. She stands behind the door, gaining the courage to open it, half-wishing Lockwood left while she tidied up and changed.
He’s still there, leaning against the balustrade in front of her flat. He looks tired, but even in his suit, he doesn’t look out of place. Lockwood has always had the power to look like he belongs anywhere he goes, something Lucy envies.
“Tea?”
He nods.
Making tea is just another reminder of the chasm between them. Asking him how he takes it, his half joke about her forgetting so quickly, it’s all too much for her.
The room is bathed in the grey light of the early winter morning and she feels exhausted. They’re sitting on her bed, legs pressed against each other like on the train, but her skin feels hot where their legs touch.
They’ve finished their tea and now they’re sharing a packet of chocolate biscuits. Lockwood jokes about how they’re technically not breaking the rotation since they don’t live together anymore, but it makes her heart ache.
“Would you come back? If I asked you to?”
“No. I can’t.” She places the biscuits on the floor next to the bed. “I’m tired.”
“Oh,” he says and starts standing.
“You can stay if you want.”
She’s instantly remorseful. She should be sending him on his way and cutting off communication once again. Lockwood seems to consider what she’s saying for a second. He gestures towards his suit. “Is it ok if I…?”
“Yes, of course.” Lucy stands up to close the curtains and turn off the lamp. The room is engulfed in grey shades, except for a faint glow visible under the closet door.
“Oh, so that’s where he is.”
When she turns, Lockwood is down to his pants and undershirt. His socks are blue. She tries not to make eye contact with him as she slips her bra off under her shirt and takes off her leggings. The shirt is long enough to reach her thighs, but she feels exposed.
“Yes, figured we didn’t need him butting in on our conversation.”
She grabs an extra blanket from her chest and explains that the heater has issues.
It’s not the first time they’ve been in this sort of circumstance—half undressed and about to sleep next to each other—but this feels far more intimate than before when it was just two colleagues sharing a bed during a case.
Her bed is small, so she lays down on her side with her back to the wall. Lockwood reflects her position facing her. He grazes the back of her hand with his thumb. Lucy wants to grab his hand and cradle it against her chest. She wants to ask him to stay, even if it’s his demise. She closes her eyes instead.
***
When she wakes up a few hours later, the light is coming in through the sliver of window not covered by her curtain and it hits his shoulder blades. He’s laying facing away from her and it gives her the chance to really focus on his skin, marred by a constellation of random scars and moles. It’s a part of him she’s never seen before.
Lucy knows he’s awake. He woke up before her, because she felt him shift around as she was waking up, but he hasn’t spoken. Maybe they can stay like this all day; suspended in their silence, away from everything. Is it a game? Does the first one to speak lose?
There’s mole right on the nape of his neck and she wonders when the sun hit his skin just right to make it bloom.
At some point of the early morning the heater had kicked in and they had woken up feeling hot. Lockwood had helped her remove one of the blankets and then had taken off his undershirt. He had laid there with his eyes closed and he had reached for her. It had only taken him linking their fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss for her to get closer until she was half laying on his chest with his arms around her. Even barely awake she knew that this exact situation would've made her heart burst just a couple of months ago.
It was an indulgence that she knew would cost her. Knowing how it felt to be held by him would only hurt her more after he left, knowing she would never experience it again. Yet she let it happen.
Lockwood finally turns towards her. His hand reaches her face to move her fringe to the side. He leans and kisses the spot he just revealed and Lucy feels like the floor just opened and she’s falling and falling and falling. His lips linger and then they travel down her face, kissing her temple, then the side of her nose. His lips hover, so close to hers it would only take her craning her neck to connect.
“Lockwood–“
“No,” he whispers. “If you’re not coming back…if you’re staying at Fittes. If you’ll never give me the honesty you demanded from me. Please, at least let me have this.”
She finds herself nodding and then he’s kissing her. He tastes like sleep and like everything she imagined kissing him would taste like. She’s starved for him, for something she’s always known she needed.
Lockwood embraces her and brings her body closer to his. One of his hands travels from her waist down to her knee to bring her leg over him. Lucy feels sick with want. He’s kissing her neck and he nips at her ear, making her gasp. He’s whispering her name like a he’s trying to prove to himself that she’s there. Lucy understands the need to know it’s real. She wonders just for one second if maybe she's still asleep and then her hair gets caught under his hand and she yelps.
"I'm sorry!" Lockwood rushes to say and to his credit he does sound apologetic. Lucy, who's unsure of how to respond, just kisses him again. The laugh he lets out gets trapped between their mouths.
They kiss for so long that the leg around his waist starts cramping, but Lucy fears that any abrupt movement will ruin the moment.
Then the words spill out of his mouth, a mouth she has now kissed and has made her own cherry red. "Please, come back." It shatters everything.
Lucy pushes him back until he’s laying down staring at the ceiling and she’s sitting with her back to the wall. Her body feels warm and electrified. She tries not to think about what would've happened if he didn't speak.
She takes a moment to regain her breath and resolution. “You should leave.” The words hang between them, corroding everything that just happened.
“Luce–“
But she shakes her head and looks away. There's something akin to shame creeping up her neck as Lockwood gathers his things gets dressed.
She should’ve let him go last night as soon as he told her there was nothing to explain. This was all a big mistake, but Lucy is used to making those. Now she just needs to make up for it and stay away from him.
She's debating if she should put her leggings back on when he comes to stand in front of the bed and reaches for her, but she pushes his hand away and bolts off of bed towards the door. He grabs his coat and follows her.
"I'm sorry," he says. "For how I spoke to you earlier. I was cruel and I'm sorry."
All she can do is nod. She wants to ask him if he meant it when he said he never wanted to see her again. She's not ready to hear his answer.
Lucy is holding the door open and Lockwood comes to stand in front of her. There’s nothing he can say now. He lingers so she looks up at him. He looks distraught, eyes wild and hair messy. It’s the haunted look he had when he told her about Jessica and when he begged her to stay two months ago. He’s looking at her like he’s trying to find something in her eyes. It seems like whatever it is, he can’t find it because he just nods and leaves. She hears his steps as he runs down the stairs.
Lucy goes to sit on her bed, but instead decides it’s time to clean up and get ready for the day.
In a few hours, she will put on her Fittes uniform and brave the London January cold to go to her next case with her new team. She will try not to think about Lockwood laying next to her and about the way he whispered her name in between kisses when she goes to sleep tomorrow morning. For now, Lucy is alone again.