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Lucy was going to win. Winning these competitions was a rarity—George often rigged them—but this time, come hell or high water, she was going to come out on top.
A week ago, Anthony Lockwood purchased a pair of aviator sunglasses, and subsequently overinflated his ego. He wore them everywhere, even perching them on the bathroom sink so he could immediately put them on after a shower. He walked around now with his nose stuck so high in the air that he tripped on Mrs. Schwartz’s Pekingese, and fell into a bush.
The aviators had transformed him, endowing him with a newfound swagger and an unshakable belief that he was God's gift to mankind. After he nearly fell off a balcony trying to dispel a ghost “the cool way,” George sat the team down, sans Lockwood.
“I cannot bear another moment of that moron wearing those sunglasses. If I have to hear him chatting up one more old lady on the tube about how practical and stylish they are, I will drink drain cleaner.” He had said seriously, and no one could disagree with him.
Even sweet Holly was concerned, “I do love seeing him so happy, but three days ago we both nearly got hit by a cab because he saw his reflection in a storefront window.”
“He’s always been a menace to society, but he's actually gotten worse somehow. I’m genuinely afraid this is the end of days.” Kipps added while pouring himself a cup of coffee.
As much as she appreciated the view (and she did appreciate it) she couldn’t help but agree with the others. Lockwood nearly stabbed his eyes out when he tried to wear them to sleep a few nights ago, and could hardly make it through a single conversation without whipping them off dramatically, only to put them right back on again.
It was unanimously agreed. The Sunglasses had to go. George had immediately set up a bet. Whoever successfully removed and destroyed the offensive eyewear would win £100 and a month off dish duty. It was the most serious bet they had made yet, and Lucy was determined to win even if it killed her. Which very well could happen since 4/5ths of the Agency had been more focused on Lockwood’s eyewear than the visitor they were supposed to be neutralizing.
Lockwood and Co. was only mildly competent at the best of times, but tonight was a real spectacle. It reminded her of some of the first few cases they had taken when she had first joined. The case was to clear a mid-sized manor plagued by shadows, whispers, and a sense of malaise. They hadn’t made much progress on the ‘clearing’ front. So far, George had broken his own glasses trying to throw a silver net over Lockwood to knock the aviators off. Holly had gotten the wits scared out of her as a taxidermied owl had fallen off of a bookshelf onto her as she had snuck up behind Lockwood.
Kipps had opted for a direct approach, attempting to snatch the offensive eyewear. But Lockwood evaded him easily, delighting in knocking him on his face, and giving him a wallop on his backside with his rapier. The reminder of his embarrassing fencing defeat was too much for poor Kipps, and he ended up flipping them all off, and abandoning them. All of this nonsense only served to boost Lockwood’s ego even more.
Lucy hadn’t made her move all night, but she knew her time was now. Lockwood had led her upstairs to take some readings, and she spied a very cozy little hallway closet. Just big enough for two people. She grabbed him by the tie, and pulled him in.
After recovering from his initial shock, Lockwood had been all too happy with this turn of events. A mischievous little smile alighted on his lips as he dropped his hands to encircle her waist. “Oh Luce, you are insatiable. In a closet? On a job? Again? ” He dipped down to kiss along her jaw, his strong hands skimming her lower back.
She moaned. Yes, her plan was to lure him into a compromising position and grab the glasses, but who’s to say she couldn’t enjoy a little snog first? She caressed her hands up to his neck, allowing her lips to find his. She held him fast, lips bruising against each other as butterflies seemed to run amuck in her belly. She loved kissing him, and she was good at it too. She could be a professional Lockwood kisser if she wanted to. Her kissing ability was only second to her listening ability if Lockwood was to be believed. And she did believe him. After all, the enthusiasm with which he kissed her gave him a real air of authority on the subject.
The kiss deepened suddenly, and hands began to roam farther. His more stationary hand reached up to tangle in her hair, angling her face so his tongue could trace its favorite route around her mouth. He pressed her further into the shelves of the closet. She felt like she was on fire. No matter how often they did this, kissing Lockwood never ceased to make her blood feel like it was near boiling. He moaned, the sound vibrating between their pressed chests, she felt her heart speed up, knees weaken, and mind go fuzzy. Who cares if she lost her virginity in a hall closet? If he kept kissing her like this then she certainly didn’t. She was seriously considering the logistics of how she was going to remove both of their clothes in such a cramped space, when his aviators bumped her eyebrow. Damn things.
Trying not to tip him off, she began slowly grazing her hands to earpieces of his glasses, and right as she had her fingertips on them, his hands ceased their wandering, and wrapped around her wrists. He pulled her arms upward, and pinned them above her head. She both felt, and heard as he clicked his tongue at her disapprovingly, his mouth roaming her cheekbone and jaw. “Naughty. And here I thought you just wanted to spend time with me.” He murmured into the shell of her ear, and gently bit her earlobe.
“You know what they say, two birds with one stone, and all that,” She replied breathlessly. He had never pinned her hands like this before and oh, did that do it for her. New kink unlocked. She couldn’t resist grinding into him further, which seemed to just egg him on more. His long, strong, fingers wrapped around both of her wrists, keeping them in place. He used his newly freed hand to grasp her chin. She was sure she was a real sight now, glazed eyes, lips open, hair mussed. Her mum would be so proud of her.
He grasped the aviators, and pulled them off. Lockwood’s eyes were hungry, pupils blown wide. He looked entirely too smug for his own good. “So tell me Luce,” As he said this his knee wedged itself between her legs, causing her to gasp. It was nowhere near her promised land, but the movement still sent her knees trembling. “Why does everyone want my new sunglasses?”
She did her best to pout, but that was rather difficult as the hand that used to be on her chin had begun wandering again. His hand grasped her side, letting his fingers caress the contours of her ribs. His thumb was so close to the band of her bra…
“Luce,” He said more sternly. Oh yeah. He had asked her a question.
“I just miss seeing your eyes is all. They are such a lovely shade of brown-” she cut off with a gasp. He had decided he didn’t have any time for banter, and stooped down suck a bruise on that spot near the angle of her jaw that drove her insane. She felt like all the breath had been sucked out of her body as his teeth clamped down on the flesh. Goosebumps erupted all over her body, and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that traveled down her spine.
“The truth, my love,” He murmured into her skin, voice gravelly and deep.
“George set a reward for £100 and a month off dish duty if we can break them,” She choked out. Stupid handsome prick.
He pulled back, genuinely confused, “Why would he want to do that?” He released her arms, and she let them fall to her side.
“Lockwood, last week I caught you gazing at yourself in a puddle in the gutter. You caused poor Bobby Vernon to go into a gay panic. You are far too attractive in them.”
She quickly pressed her hand to his lips to stop the smug smile that was spreading across his face. He grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss into it. “You think I’m sexy,” He said in a sing-song, only slightly muffled by her hand. “You think I’m cute,” another kiss to her wrist, “You want to kiss me-”
“You really are the greatest detective of your generation, Lockwood. Although, I suppose the fact that I let you snog me stupid in our client’s hall closet did give you a slight hint.” She snatched her wrist away, leaving him pouting slightly.
She decided it was time to turn the tables on him. She grabbed his shoulders, and shoved him back against his side of the closet. She crowded him quickly, and licked over his Adam's apple. He grunted, and grasped her waist like she was a life preserver in the open ocean. “I’ll make you a deal, my handsome boy,” She let her fingernails scrape down his chest, causing him to shiver. “I will use the money I get from winning this bet to take you out to a fancy-schmancy restaurant, and as a bonus, no one will get to see you look so delightfully tempting -” She took a page out of his book and gripped the hair at the back of his head roughly, pulling it back to get better access to his throat. “Except for me. Deal?”
“Deal,” he gasped. “Fuck, Luce . ”
“Mmmm. What can I say?” She teased as she sucked a bruise in the same spot he had, “I’m a jealous girl. I like having you all to myself.”
Just then, they heard a crash. Oh yeah. Holly and George were still fighting for their lives in a haunted house. Still, she used his distraction to snatch the glasses off the shelf he’d left them on. “Sorry darling, I do need to break these in order to win.” His face didn’t change much, but she could tell he was genuinely a bit sad about losing them.
She wrapped her arms around his neck once more, “I wasn’t lying earlier. I really did miss your eyes. I love them,” She said, giving him a peck on the lips. “Almost as much as I love you. Maybe we can get another pair just for my eyes only.”
He smiled at that, his eyes crinkling at the corner. It was her smile. The one he reserved just for her. He grabbed the glasses and snapped them in half. Fuck those hands were strong . She felt her heart beat a little faster at the thought of what those hands could do to her… Oh well. Maybe when George wasn’t squealing like a little girl.
“I love you too, Lucy Carlyle.” He said as he opened the door to let them out. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head.
They descended the stairs quickly to find Holly in the iron circle trying desperately to get a vase off of George’s foot. There was no specter in sight.
George looked up, glaring. “Where the hell have you two been?”
In response Lockwood held up the two halves of his glasses.
“God Dammit!” George shot her a murderous look.
She grabbed Lockwoods hand and shot him her signature Carlyle grin. Yeah. She sure won this one.