Chapter Text
I broke the biscuit rule...
George had insulted me in some manner. Don’t ask me about the specifics, but it had something to do with my growing appetite and weight. I flushed with a strange emotion that was half embarrassment and half rage. Lockwood opened his mouth to reply but I spoke before he could. Like the early days of Lockwood and Co., like the night at Aikmeres, the tether that held my temper in check suddenly snapped.
“That’s real rich coming from you, George.” I shot back. “You’ve always been twice as wide as me, and half as tall too.” I relished the verbal onslaught. “You are so short and so fat that you look like a Christmas elf. A Christmas elf that went rogue and ate Saint Nicholas- and all eight of his reindeer, along with his sleigh. So why don’t you just shut it, and go stuff your flabby self up a chimney!”
After a quick survey of the room, I thought that Kipps’ jaw might fall off with how low it was hanging. Holly was very interested in something on her plate and picked at it wordlessly. George’s face was motionless but he rubbed his glasses on his shirt in an agitated fashion. Lockwood met my eyes with concerned glance. Suddenly the room was very small and uncomfortable. The awkwardness that filled the space, though, did nothing to quench my fury. With a theatric flourish, I stood and heaped another biscuit onto my plate. George’s impassive expression melted into a horrified gape upon witnessing my treachery.
“Lucy-“
His reaction caused a small feeling of satisfaction to swell in my throat. I gathered my tea, plate, and the charred skull that sat beside it.
“Where are you going, Luce?” Lockwood was the only one who dared to speak. My murderous gaze momentarily softened while it rested on his face.
“I’m going upstairs to ask Skull if he’ll help me plot gruesome ways to kill George.” I smiled coolly. “I don’t imagine Skull will disappoint me. He has long awaited this day.” With that I stormed out of the kitchen, up the stairs to our bedroom, and slammed the door behind me for good measure.
I didn’t personally witness what happened next, but here’s what I believe a fly on the wall would report of the event.
Lockwood had risen to follow Lucy but elected to give her time to cool down instead. He stood wincing as each stair thumped and finally as the door slammed. When the outburst was over, Lockwood slumped back into his chair with a sigh.
“Well, I guess Lucy’s cracked. I always thought it would happen sooner than it did.” George said in a small voice. He looked around the room nervously. “Do you reckon I should be scared?”
Kipps and Holly nodded solemnly while Lockwood shook his head.
“She’s not cracked. She’s-“
An animated voice sounded from upstairs. George locked eyes with Lockwood and pointed to the ceiling in protest. Apparently, her conversation with the skull was doing nothing to help the angry northerner’s mood. The shouting paused briefly and then doubled in intensity and loudness. Lockwood leaned into his thinking pose. (You know, the one that looks like an old preacher sitting on the loo)
When the muffled torrent of curses stopped, Lockwood straightened decisively. He cleared his throat and faced the team (minus Lucy and Skull, of course) with an anxious smile.
“This isn’t how we wanted to tell you all.” Lockwood hesitated, eyeing the ceiling again. “But in order to avoid further incident-“ As if on cue, something crashed from above. “I’d better let you guys in on the news.” Lockwood looked towards the ceiling once more before for continuing. George grew impatient of the delay.
“Spit it out, Lockwood.”
Lockwood glared at George for a moment but couldn’t keep a grin from regaining possession of his face.
“Lucy’s pregnant.”