Work Text:
The 1st time
“Lockwood!”
“LOCKWOOD!”
Lockwood’s attention snapped to George as the tone of his voice got louder and irritated. “What?” he asked, distracted by the display he was reviewing for potential additions to their kits.
“I still need to go to the Archives before tonight’s job. Are you done?”
Looking down at the array of flares on display, including a new version of a Magnesium Flare, Lockwood said, “I’m just trying to decide if we should have a few of these.”
George walked over and grabbed Lockwood by his tie. He dragged his friend, along his handfuls of already chosen purchases, to the till of Satchell’s.
“Hey! Be careful! I don’t want to drop the salt bombs!”
“Then use those ridiculously long fingers of yours to hold them. Tonight’s case is a Type 1. We can debate new magnesium flares later. Now check out already.” He shoved Lockwood up to the empty counter.
Setting down his stash of necessities, Lockwood reached up to loosen the knot that had tightened around his throat and straightened his tie. “Was that necessary?” he grumbled, trying to uncrumple the now wrinkled tie. He sighed as the wrinkles remained. “And what’s wrong with my fingers? They’re normal fingers.”
“Yeah. Whatever. If we’re ever going to get going, dragging you out of here is obviously the only option. Honestly.” George pointed at him, “I’m going to start setting a time limit every time we come here.”
“Now, George, that’s hardly fai—”
George cut him off. “You set limits for me at bookstores. Turnabout is fair play, mate.”
Lockwood grumbled and gave one last try to save his tie. Giving it up as lost cause, he paid for their supplies and the two made their way home. George immediately set out for the Archives, while Lockwood went downstairs to put everything away.
The 2nd time
“Are you going to bring that to the table?”
“Lockwood?”
Lockwood remained where he was, just staring out the window. Lucy stepped over and gave his tie a couple little tugs.
He started and looked down at her. “Huh?”
“Hi. Where were you just now?” Her tone soft, curious.
Lockwood debated answering, but said quietly, “I was just thinking. My Dad used to work on the garden when they were home.” A smile, small and sad, crossed his lips. “I remember running through the hose water as Dad sprayed it up in the air. I think Mum laughed, but I can’t remember the sound.” That last was so quiet Lucy had to strain to hear him.
Lucy placed her hand on his chest, still over the tie he wore nearly every day. She gave him a look, seeing a wistfulness he rarely showed. “Is that something you want to do, too? Work on the garden? George and I can help, yeah?”
Lockwood looked at Lucy, then at George who had turned to watch them from the cooktop.
“You would?” Lockwood asked, cautiously.
George answered, “Of course, mate. I’d love a fresh herb plot.”
“And I’d love to help. We could pick out any flowers and plants you want.” Lucy bumped her hip into Lockwood’s and asked with a sweet grin, “What do you think?”
Lockwood looked at them again, seeing their quiet enthusiasm for his project, then said, “Okay. Yes. Fancy a trip to the Garden Centre after breakfast?”
Lucy picked up the two mugs of tea sitting in front of him. “Yeah.” She glanced at George who was plating their food. “Come sit. Eat. Then we can go.”
Lockwood took one last glance out the window, his expression relaxing. Then he took his seat at the table. “Thanks, George. This looks great.”
The 3rd time
Their case had gone sideways as soon as the sun had set. What was supposed to be a simple case had turned out to be a Poltergeist that was VERY protective of its Source. And since they were in an old barn that was used for storage, the Poltergeist had plenty of ammunition to keep them from getting close to what it was that they needed to secure.
Lucy hit the ground to avoid being decapitated by a flying scythe. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure neither George nor Lockwood were behind her. She spotted them further to the left and sighed in relief. “Guys, I think it’s in the loft!” she shouted, hoping they could hear her over the din. The air was aswirl as non-stop, gusting wind. Then she was suddenly hit with a bunch of sawdust in the face. “Damn it!” She spit it out of her mouth and wiped it away from her eyes. They were watering from the dust, but hopefully that would clean them out.
In the meantime, George pressed against the far side of the barn making his way slowly toward the ladder to the hayloft. Out of the corner of his eye he saw motion and had just enough time and reach to grab Lockwood’s tie as it floated in the constant press of whirling air. Jerking hard, he pulled the taller man’s head down in time to miss being broken open by an axe that just barely soared past.
Eyes widening as he realized how close that call had been, he called out to George, “Thanks!”
George just shrugged and kept moving forward, eyes watchful for himself and his friends.
The 4th time
It was time for the annual Fittes Ball. Rather astonishingly, they had received an invitation despite the many times trouble had broken out while they were there. Admittedly, Lockwood thought, it wasn’t always their fault. Like the fire. They did not start that one.
Standing in his bedroom, he looked in his mirror. He straightened the collar of his black shirt, making sure the matte black buttons were fully done. He swept his hand through his hair again, checking the dark strands were in place. He’d purchased a new suit recently, and he felt different than his normal self. The material was softer, easier to move in. And the new tie was silk, completely covered with a swirled mix of sweeping colors – a multitude of shades of blue. Lucy had established her favorite color, and he wanted them to be a united team. Or so he told himself.
He’d even taken George along to pick out something to wear. He didn’t force his friend into a traditional suit, but George had chosen an expensive looking set that had surprised Lockwood with how good it fit the other man. It mirrored George’s personality perfectly. Made of a soft material, everything flowed without looking baggy. Even the tunic style shirt, which hit the top of his thighs but was slit up on both sides, enhanced his body instead of hiding it. And it was all a matching indigo in color except for an intricate design in light cream that wrapped around a low V neckline. The entire outfit looked amazing against his darker skin tone.
Not that Lockwood was paying attention to any of that. It was about representing a united company front. That’s it.
Satisfied that he was as ready as he could be, he stepped out of his bedroom only to find the other two waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. They’d been chatting so quietly that he didn’t even know they were out there.
He knew how George was going to be dressed, but he’d also done something to his hair that tamed it, one lock still straying down over his head. Lockwood’s hand twitched with the urge to move it aside.
And Lucy…
Lucy was dressed in a blue cocktail dress. It was modest in cut, as was normal for her. The color was a gorgeous blue that reminded him of pictures he’d seen of Caribbean waters. It had these barely there sleeves that angled over her shoulders, and the front dipped… Well, it dipped lower than was her usual style, highlighting the diamond necklace nestled against her throat. But the skirt of the dress was what really caught his eye. It was a loose drape of fabric to just above her knees. Lockwood just knew the swirl of it around her legs as she walked was going to be distracting. Not that he thought of it that way. It would just look different. That was it.
“You ready to go, mate?” George asked, looking at him, head cocked to the side in consideration.
Shaking himself out of his own thoughts, Lockwood walked down the steps slowly, a part him wanting to take as long as possible to look at them standing before him before other people would be in the way. Together his friends were a formidable sight.
When he reached the bottom step, Lucy reached out one hand to straighten his tie then left her hand in place as she looked up to meet his eyes. “You match both of us.”
“Is it too much?”
“No! No.” She offered a shy smile that George shared. “It’s perfect.” With one last caress of the silk, smoothing it down, she let go and turned to the door. “Come on then. The cab’s waiting.”
The 5th time
Things felt a little different since they’d attended the Ball a couple months ago. George knew what it was, but everyone else was pretending nothing had changed. Which was fine. He could wait until the right time to push.
What he couldn’t wait for was the little touches. With Lucy it was a touch to her arm. If a particularly good opportunity arose, he’d give her a quick kiss on the top of her head. Lockwood, however… He was a different story entirely. He was like a frightened fawn – hyper aware and likely to bolt.
So, with Lockwood he kept things tame. Not doing much. And it was Lucy who dragged him around the boot sale.
Lockwood kept getting distracted by every epee, rapier, and sword on display. He’d stop and chat up every booth owner. George and Lucy were going nuts. An hour in and they’d not made it down the first aisle. Giving up while Lockwood chattered endlessly with an old man selling antique rapiers, George and Lucy walked to the other side of the aisle. George had caught sight of a bookseller and thought he might find something interesting. He didn’t. When the duo turned back, Lockwood had moved on by a few stalls and was chatting up a pretty, blonde girl, flashing his megawatt smile. She was laughing at whatever he’d said.
George frowned, and he saw Lucy’s expression turn sour. With a shared glance, they walked over to the booth and Lucy grabbed Lockwood’s tie and jerked on it, causing him to physically turn halfway around.
“Come over ‘ere. George has found a book he wants, but you’re holding the money.” Lucy proceeded to walk away holding Lockwood’s tie. She headed back to the stall she and George had just left. She picked up a book at random and handed it to her captive.
George smirked at the disgruntled blonde and followed them. When he caught up, Lockwood was holding a copy of The History and Life of Baboons. “Really? George needs this book?”
George looked him straight in the eye. “It’s for research on The Problem. An esoteric theory that has popped up that I want to follow.”
Lockwood shrugged and handed the confused stall keeper a quid. “If you want it George, it’s yours.”
Lucy directed them down the side of stalls opposite where Lockwood had been found. The blonde followed the trio with her eyes, obviously peeved at having been forgotten so quickly. George gave her a jaunty wave when they passed.
The 6th time
The DEPRAC Gala. Lockwood didn’t know why it was always scheduled so close to the Fittes Ball, but at least it meant he’d get to see his friends looking lovely as they dressed in their best formal wear again. Not lovely. Professionally attractive. That was better.
Lockwood had chosen a silk blend suit in black with a crisp, white shirt. He’d been attracted to the contrast of soft and freshly pressed. However, he had been told that under no circumstances was he to pick out his own tie. Instead, he’d come into his room to find a wide box tied with a bow on his dresser. Attached was a note: NO PEEKING! Bring this downstairs when you are ready. It was in George’s writing, but was signed L & G.
That was it. Lockwood was absolutely NOT looking in the box. Even though every fiber of his being wanted to see what was contained within. With a huff, he grabbed the box and went down the stairs. No one was there. “Damn it.” He really wanted to know what was going on with the box and no tie.
Taking a seat in the library, he waited.
And waited.
Then he heard George’s door open and the combination of George and Lucy’s hushed voices along with a few giggles. His hands tightened as his entire body tensed. Once he realized he’d bent the edge of the box he was still holding, Lockwood forced his hands to relax. However, the tension didn’t leave his body. Now he wanted to know why they sounded so happy after coming out of George’s bedroom. He was so distracted that he didn’t even try to consciously rephrase his inner monologue.
And then the two hit the bottom of the stairs, turning into the library. Lockwood turned to look their way. The sight before him hit Lockwood like a freight train.
George was in a deep red-orange version of his previous Ball attire. But this time, the shirt was slightly more formal with a collared neckline. Beside him stood Lucy…dressed in a coral shirtdress. The top, from just above her breasts to the sleeves except for the button panel and lapel, was a darker color of sheer lace. The mid-thigh silk was lengthened by a few inches of the same lace, and she’d opted for no belt.
Lockwood just sat there, mouth agape.
They walked in together, and he stood up to meet them. But they didn’t stop moving forward until they were within a hand’s width of his chest. “Hi,” they chorused softly. Like they planned it.
Lockwood blinked then cleared his throat. “Uh… Hi.” He looked down and almost tipped back given how close they were standing. George steadied him with a hand on the arm while Lucy giggled again. Lockwood was…enraptured. He wanted to hear her giggle again. And George’s smile was… Well, Lockwood couldn’t process that thought.
With a smirk, Lucy looked up, directly into his eyes. “So, did you peek at your present?”
“What?”
George pointed to the box.
“Huh? Oh! No. No peeking on my part.” Lockwood managed to speak. He was impressed with himself. It was a full sentence.
Lucy and George stood in front of him, quietly waiting. After a full minute passed, George asked, “Well are you going to open it now that we’re all here?”
Lockwood’s mind had wandered, and on it’s own it had brought forth a multitude of images. He blinked multiple times, trying to center his thoughts back on the present.
“Open it? The box! Yes. Open it. Right.” Wishing he could steady his hands, Lockwood worked the bow off of the box, and removed the top. Unfolding the tissue paper revealed three ties in various orange hues. Confused, Lockwood looked up.
Lucy whispered, “I don’t think he gets it.”
George whispered back, “Then we’ll explain it.”
“I am right here, you know,” Lockwood cut in.
George’s mouth raised in a soft smile, a quirk at the corner. “So, you know what to do with your present?”
Lockwood looked at him, looked at the ties, then looked up. “Umm. Normally, yes. But right now? Not actually.”
Lucy laughed. “We thought it was time we tried something other than the two of you matching me in blue. So, George got to choose the color. He chose my dress, and I chose his outfit. Then we both picked out the ties. It is your signature look, after all.”
“You did this so you could…wear a tie? With me?”
“Yep,” they again managed in chorus.
George continued, “Agency continuity for appearances and all.”
“Plus,” Lucy paused, then continued, “…You go out of your way to make us comfortable for these parties. It’s your turn to be the focus.”
“I’m the focus?”
“Mate, did you fall and hit your head? Have a drink too early?”
“George!” Lucy hissed and smacked his arm. “Stop it.”
Looking back at Lockwood she said, “You get to tie us.”
Lockwood’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“Three ties. Three people who need ties to complete their outfits…” Lucy shook her head as his eyes stayed blank. “Maybe you were right, Georgie.”
“Three ties for three people.” The gears in Lockwood’s began to reluctantly grind to a start. “You picked out three ties, and I am meant to put them on. All of us.”
“That’s the plan.”
Lockwood didn’t even know who answered, because he was stuck at the idea of putting ties on Lucy and George. Arms around them, their backs to his front.
“Right. Not a problem. Three ties.” Lockwood was grateful for the loose fit of his trousers and the jacket. Thank God for the person who invented jackets. “You’re sure you don’t want me to just show you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Positive.”
“Right. Ties it is then.” Lockwood set the box on the side table. Picking up the darker coral, he turned to Lucy. “This is yours?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Just turn around then. It’ll be easier.” Lucy spun on surprisingly dainty heels. Which is when Lockwood realized the entire back of her dress was lace down to the waist as his eyes traced the line of her spine all the way down. He gulped. George turned his head to hide his smile. “Tie a tie. I can do that.”
Lockwood reached around, laying the soft material down against the lace. He turned up her silk collar in order to tuck the tie into place. Hands shaking, he made quick work of a Windsor knot. On the second try. The first time he got distracted by the feel of the warmth radiating from under the lace. “There. Turn.”
Lucy turned, and Lockwood adjusted the knot. “There. You’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” Lucy smiled softly then her face lit up. “Oh! George, my belt!”
“Right.” He reached into his pocket for a dark coral slip of silk and handed it to her. She quickly slipped it around her waist and cinched it in a basic knot. She’d left it loose enough that it sat at a bit of an angle over her hip, but it still pulled the length of her dress up another inch or so.
Lockwood swallowed hard enough he could hear it. He was pretty sure they were trying to kill him.
“Even better,” he stammered. He then turned to George, who was looking at him expectantly. “Right! You’re turn.”
Lockwood picked up the box. Two ties remained. He glanced at George and picked up the matching tie. “This one is yours?”
“Of course.”
“Of course.” Lockwood looked at the tie that remained. It was a version of his swirled blue tie but in oranges. Both of their colors were there for him to wear. The match was perfect.
Sounding a bit gruff when he realized how much care they’d put into the night, he asked George to turn his back to him. He’d swear he’d taught George how to tie a tie before but couldn’t swear to it. The material of his alternative style suit was so very soft and slick under his fingertips. But he repeated the actions he’d taken with Lucy: turned up the collar, slid the tie into place, carefully tied it into a Windsor knot. Successful on the first try this time. “Turn.”
George turned to face him, tilting his chin up so Lockwood had access to the knot. Which put his lips at an enticingly close distance. Lockwood did not lick his lips. He didn’t. He just adjusted the tie and ran a hand down George’s chest to smooth it out.
“Perfect.”
George picked up the last tie and handed it to Lockwood. “You’re turn.”
Lockwood carefully took the tie, and he’d swear George’s fingers brushed over his on purpose. “My turn. Certainly.” He turned toward a small mirror that was beside the fireplace. Hands still shaking, he got his tie on with minimal fuss, then buttoned his jacket. He could see Lucy and George behind him. Absolutely perfect.
A honk sounded from outside made Lockwood jump.
George perked up. “Right. Night cab’s here. Everyone ready?”
Lucy’s shoes clicked out to the hallway where she’d left a delicate matching purse.
“You bought a purse?” Lockwood couldn’t hold in the question.
“Do you see pockets in this dress?”
Scanning her from her perfectly styled hair, down her (uncovered!) legs, to her feet, Lockwood shook his head no, not trusting his voice.
“Exactly. I have to have something to hold a few items.” Lucy smiled, the sheer description of innocence. “Ready.”
Looking between the two, Lockwood knew he was in trouble. But instead of being bothered, his only response was, “Absolutely.”
He was already formulating a plan to get them out of the Gala earlier than originally planned. Not that he’d say that aloud.