#lockwood grasping for lucy will never not make me feel things

[websterss]

CERTAIN — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: Hello, I was wondering if I could request a Anthony Lockwood x reader where the reader is his best friend but they have feelings for each other and don’t realize it until they notice how different they treat each other compared to everyone else (if that makes sense-)? Just fluff please!

WARNING(S): just fluff

WORD COUNT: 3,106

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Lucy and George had halted their chewing. Watching as you and Anthony worked in synchronization. The pair of you oddly knowing what the other one wanted, without question, without hesitation in any reform. It was undoubtedly so as you spread strawberry jam over Anthony’s toasted bread, whereas he had taken notice of the lack of liquid in your favorite green cup. He reached across you and poured you a good amount of orange juice. Never one for coffee or tea. You liked to drink it with pulp too. You had stopped talking, silently thanking him with a smile before you went back to conversing with Lucy, though she was hardly listening. Not really tuning into your ramble about a bloke who cut you off at Arif’s the other day. Unaware of her eyes flickering back and forth from Anthony placing and taking something in front of you, and you subconsciously making his plate. 

“You’re seeing it too right?” Lucy muttered under her breath, just enough for George to hear. He hummed as he bit down on his biscuit. 

Anthony had immediately taken the toast in front of him, cutting it triangularly with the butter knife. He bit into his own piece then held out his right hand for you to take the other half. Like second nature, you took it and began devouring. His head turned to confirm if you were okay and enjoying it. You hummed, your mouth full of food. You frantically pointed to your mouth and the rest of the piece in your hand. 

“Is it lacking jam...” He nodded. Though not needing another second before he wiped the knife clean on a napkin, and dipped it into the jar again. He gestured to hand it over to him, you mustered a muffled thank you. As you chewed faster. He clicked his tongue at you.

“Slower, you’ll choke.” He shook his head before handing you the rest to finish. You reached forward with your hand, but he tutted you with a stern raise of his eyebrow. You rolled your eyes, but obliged. You slowed your chewing, then finally swallowed it all down. “Wash it down.” He gestured to your orange juice. 

“No, I will not wash it down, give it to me!” You reached for it again, but he held it further from your grasp. “Anthony Lockwood, you dare deprive me of my breakfast.”

“I’d hardly call this breakfast, love. You could do a whole lot better with some eggs, or better yet pancakes. George, do we still have some batter left?” George flinched. Not expecting for the attention to be directed onto him.

“I-I’m not sure. I’ll have to check the pantry.” 

“Well, let me know if we’re out. I can make a quick trip into town for groceries again.”

“You already shopped for groceries though?” You raised a brow at him.

“I know...” He shrugged. “You’re out of those mini pretzel bites though.” The information he inquired was news to you. Your eyes widened, mouth agape. 

“No, I’m not, the bag was still half full the other day!” You could not believe your ears.

“I’m aware...” He slowly grimaced. The look of realization painting over your features made him stand out of his seat. The further the distance he set amongst you the safer he was. “But the thing is...I ate them you see.” He winced watching your face contort into anger. A frown dawning on your lips now.

“You ate them?” You slowly rose from your seat. George and Lucy reached for another biscuit, breaking the rule to only eat one at a time as they watched the scene unfold before them. This was reality tv at its finest. They both bit into their biscuits at the same time, eyes widened, wondering what would happen next. “You ate my bag of mini pretzel bites…”

“Now Y/n, lets not do anything irrational...” He held his hands out, slowly backing away from your approaching steps towards him. “I’m gonna go and get you some more. Swear on it.” He promised, hoping he could bribe his way from your death stare.

“Killing you seems rather rational to me.” He gulped nervously. “Better yet, it’s been long overdue!” You lunged forward but he veered left to flee your grabbing hands.

“Please.” The softness in his eyes almost made you grant him his life…almost. As soon as you mouthed for Lockwood to run, he high tailed it out of the kitchen. Struggling to open the kitchen door and make a break for his bedroom. Though he’d obviously have had a better chance to run out the front door and head to Arif’s. Surely you wouldn’t make a scene in a public place? Right?

Though he wasn’t as smart with his exit escape as he climbed up to the second landing. He tripped over his feet as you reached for his ankles. He let out a squeak of surprise. Lightly kicking you away, but also not trying to cause you any harm. 

Back in the kitchen, Lucy and Geroge strained their ears, wanting to hear the upstairs commotion. 

“Get back here, Anthony!” A loud slam of a door made them jump in their seats. George nimbles on his biscuit then turns to Lucy.

“How long you think till he realizes she can pick a lock?” 

“Lockwood has no clue she can. It might take him a minute for him to register it.” Lucy mindlessly eyed the side you two sat on. She reached forward for the piece of bread you didn’t eat.

“I told him not to do it.” George chimed. “He never listens though now does he. It’s like he enjoys making her chase him.”

“He’s in love, Georgie. He’d get himself ghostlocked just to get her attention.” Lucy grabs your cup of orange juice while taking a sip. 

“You’d think he would tell her by now…” George shakes his head. 

“You’d think she would!” Lucy looks at him with bewilderment. “Those two are as blind as Mrs. Chester’s cat.” 

“Her cat’s blind?” George narrows his eyes. Not yet registering. 

“Scuzzle? Yeah poor kitty…She says he walks into things. Leaves him with dizzy spells, but it’s the only way she ever finds him.” 

“Oh god…” George winces, imaging the poor woman following the sounds of thumps against surfaces.

“Yeah…” 

“How did you- Wait, wait!” Lucy and George shift their heads towards the hallway. 

“That didn’t take long.” Lucy grabs another biscuit. 

“Her best yet.” George stops the stopwatch that appeared out of nowhere. He shows it to Lucy who hums. Very impressed. 

“A minute and thirty. She’s outdone herself!” She laughs. 

“I said I was sorry-“ Lockwood’s cackles echo throughout the house. The lack of beatings told them that you weren’t really out for his head, just out for the common assault of tickling him. “I-I’m sorry. Stop, stop, stop!” 

The two snicker, amused by the whole ordeal. 

“Twenty bucks says he’ll finally cave and tells her.” Lucy turns in her seat, elbow rested on the tabletop to face George.

“Keep your money George. He’s going to tell her at the Fittes ball, especially after Kipps asks her to dance. As a matter of fact, they’ll both realize how blind they’ve been.”

“Why would Kipps ask her to- Oh!” George reels in on her implication.

“Yeah!” Lucy’s eyes bug out. A smirk present of her face.

“You’re gonna make them…” George makes two puppet hands and smashes the tips of his fingertips together to form a kiss. “I get it now.”

“Now all I need…is a plan.”

-

Once you all had made it to the party. You had imagined it like any other highly rich organization would throw a party. Many important people dressed to the nines. You’re formal attire nowhere near as luxurious as everyone else.

“Stop that now.” Lockwood looked around the room. You whip your head up at him, stoping the tug of your dress. 

“I’m not doing anything.” You furrow your brows and shake your head. 

“You’re fussing. You look beautiful...”

You roll your eyes, but the mark of his words leave your knees almost buckling.

“Y-You’re just saying that...” You tug down your dress again. The fabric insufferable against your skin.

“I say a lot of things, but l’d never lie to you.” His charming smile paints his face.

“Now you’re just being annoying.” You huff and fetch a glass from one of the trays going around. 

“I’d prefer the term honest.” He grabbed your glass and took a sip.

“Doesn’t suit you very well...” You take back the glass. 

“Well what does suit me-”

“What a pleasant surprise?” Your smiles slowly fades as the familiar voice appears from the sides of you.

“Wouldn’t really refer it to pleasantry. Rather more so unfortunate.” Lockwood smirked at Kipp.

“Lockwood.” Kipp cleared his throat and then shifted his attention to you. You frowned at your attire before your eyes met his own. “Y-Y/n you…you look magnificent.”

“Ugh!” You rolled your eyes and walked away from the two insufferable men in your life.

Kipp haven been taken back by your leave turns to Lockwood confused. “Was it something I said?” Lockwood looks your way with a sigh.

“Luckily for you…not this time dear friend.” He smirks and clasps a firm hand on his shoulder. “She’s been questioning her appearance since the moment we’ve left the cab.”

“Why on earth would she? She looks wonderful…” Kipps furrows his brows together. "I've just the trick.” He pats Lockwood’s shoulder this time and walks off after you.

You had barely gotten to the staircases when Kipps tapped your shoulder. “Let me speak with you for just a minute, please.” You glance down at your dress before looking up at him. The expression on your face says enough for him to charm you with a smile.

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks. With a scoff, you tug on your dress and try to straighten yourself.

"Everything. The dress feels short, these heels are uncomfortable, and my face has never felt more heavy. I look foolish."

“No, that’s not at all true.” His eyebrows knit together and a small smile plays the corner of his lips. “You, Miss,” He nods to your dress, “Look…beautiful.” He lets the word linger in the air. “You’re quite simply the most stunning woman in the room.”

"Alright sap, what do you want?" You look away as heat grows in your cheeks. "You're being more annoying than usual."

Kipps smirks a bit before stepping even closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I need to know,” He leans in, “if you can dance.” Without waiting for an answer he places one finger on your chin and tilts your head up to his, his voice drops and becomes raspy. “Because I’d really like to ask.” He trails off letting his words hang in the air.

"You're being charismatic...because you fancy a dance?"

Kipps chuckles as you catch him in his attempts to sway you. "Would you turn me down if that is the case?" He extends his hand out to you.

"Lucy turn you down?" You tease.

The corners of his mouth twitch up at your taunt. "Never really bothered to ask? Shall we?"

"I don't know...I quite like my toes." You glance down at your heels.

"You'll get to keep your toes." He chuckles and extends his hand again. "Just a dance? Or are you afraid Tony will get mad?" Kipps looks back over to where Anthony is looking your way with a glass in his hand.

"Anthony? Why would his opinion decide my choices?"

"I don't know. You're always worried about his opinion. Why, I'm starting to think you like him, and he likes you." He gives a sly grin. "Given the way he looks at you and vice versa."

"I like him now, do I? What other assumptions have you conjured about what Anthony and I are to each other?"

"I just know that you act differently around him." He smiles slyly. "And he acts differently around you. Love, I've known him longer than you have, he doesn't just let anyone share a glass with him." He smirks as you realize he caught you and Anthony sipping from the same glass.

"You saw that- But that doesn't mean anything…" You exclaim.

"Oh, but it does." He chuckles as you turn away. "Or do you not notice how he always looks at you…how he can't help but stay close when he's around you? I've never seen Lockwood like this with anyone before. Anyone. The lads in love."

"N-No he's not." You glance over to where Anthony is still peering at the two of you. He notices your turmoil before he straightens up and begins making his way over.

Kipps lets out an amused cough. "See? There he is now. He cares more than you tend to realize, Y/n." He watches you and how you look away from Anthony. "I do quite envy him…" You look up with softened eyes.

"Kipps…" You sigh.

Kipps laughs, seeing you sigh. "I suppose you don't see it as that though. I won't pry anymore. But," He glances at your appearance again and then smiles as he lowers his voice. "I do stand by what I said before. You look magnificent tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you the entire evening." His eyes dart around before settling back on yours. You look down at your shoes. "He holds your heart and you don't even realize the half of it..." He watches Anthony grow closer with interest, then turns back to you. He leans over and presses a kiss to your cheek. You close your eyes with guilt as he pulls away with a smile. "Perhaps our dance can wait another time. I'll see you around, Y/n." You watch him walk away, and look to your right as soon as you feel Anthony's arm brush against yours.

"What did he want?"

You smile at Anthony's eyes on you. "Eavesdropping now?" You tease, trying to hide the fact that Kipps had managed to catch you off guard with an unexpected compliment. To be completely honest, it pleased you. "He asked me to dance." You brush it off.

"S'not the trick I expected," Anthony mutters to himself. "I take it his walk of shame was you turning him down." He smirks.

"Maybe," You roll your eyes. "You jealous?" You snicker.

"Off Kipps. Please…" He shakes his head.

"Right. Of course not." You snicker again and give him a small kick. "You're such a liar, Tony." You look away, avoiding his smile.

"Tony now?" Anthony can't fight off the shit-eating grin on his face. "Oh, I sense trouble. What secrets did he spill now? You never call me Tony."

You bite back a giggle as he chuckles at the nickname. This wasn't the first time you had called him this though. "Shut up." You smirk at him as you glance away.

"I'm intrigued now. What did he say to you?" You groan and look back at him, smiling as you roll your eyes.

"It wasn't anything bad, swear." You fiddle with your ring. "He complimented me. More than once."

"And..." He extended.

"He said some things, but it's not important. You know how Kipps is." You gesture to the crowd around you. "All charm, no bite..." You cut yourself off as you grow timid under his watchful gaze. His teasing smile slowly vanishes when you continue to gaze at him with a new glint in your eyes, he knows that look all too well because he gives you the same one when you're not looking.

You nod, biting your lip as you wait for a response. You don't speak as you stare at him, searching for a sign that your feelings are reciprocated. He looks away, he's seen that look before, he's given that look before.

You notice his eyes glance from you to the crowds before looking back at you. You wait for his answer, it's what you've been waiting months to hear. Your heart beats fast in your chest as you anticipate a final judgment from him. You felt like you were going to explode.

"He mentioned that you…that you…" You start fidgeting with your ring again, twirling it between your fingers. "Hold strong feelings for me." Anthony closes his eyes, not thinking he'd ever have to admit his emotions to you in such a public scene. You glance over his shoulder, catching sight of Kipps tipping his full glass toward the two of you. You couldn't believe that Kipps would've said something like that, but you can't deny your excitement and the butterflies swirling in your stomach. The anticipation was overwhelming you.

His eyes shift from the crowds to you, and back again. You can feel your heartbeat picking up at the sight of his lips and how they're parted.

"He said you love me, that you've felt this way for a while…that you're certain of your love for me." You feel a surge of adrenaline run through your body as you stare at him in silence, anticipating his response.

"I am certain." He nods.

Your entire body felt like it was about to erupt. A jolt of excitement surges through you as your knees buckle slightly, and you start trembling. "So…you do?" You ask although it's completely obvious by the way he's gazing at you.

It seems impossible, you've dreamed of this moment for as long as you can remember, and here it is- right before you. Right here and right now. You felt like you could burst.

Anthony takes a step towards you. "Are you sure it wasn't just Kipps being his usual charming self?" He leans in, taking in a deep breath to smell your sweet scent. "I'm not sure I trust him to tell the truth about such a delicate matter…and-" You cut him off with a sweet kiss. He sighs and relaxes into the kiss. His arms snake their way around your waist to tug you closer.

You felt the electricity running through your veins, you could feel a smile plastered on your lips. Your whole body felt warm and tingly, all the while you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You knew what this meant. This whole night, the entire agency, your job, and all the ghosts you had hunted. None of it mattered as long as he was beside you. He holds you, the heat between the two of you radiates and you feel at home with him. You feel whole.

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure in my life than right now."

[wordsarelife]

could you write anthony lockwood x reader? he‘s a tease and annoying the reader and she get’s frustrated about his behaviour and starts to ignore him so he tries to make up by making her breakfast every morning.

i got inspired by the scene where lockwood cuts the toast for lucy. It’s literally so sweet.

—king of my heart

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

summary: there was always this flirty banter between them, without anything ever happening. one day the reader grows tired of it and leaves lockwood to make a choice

warnings: sexual themes, mentions of sex but no smut or anything

note: everyone is grown up, it’s more an AU after the events of the first season

also: please request more!! i’m so thrilled to write!!!

“shit, you look hot” Anthony muttered, when he saw you standing in the doorway. you grew flustered at the compliment and send him a lopsided grin.

“stop looking at me like that or we have to go back home” he teased before he walked up to you and placed a lingering kiss on her your cheek, intensely looking into your eyes before he left you standing alone

the longest you remember your relationship with the agency head had always been like that. you met at training and you were the first person he thought of when starting the agency.

of course you were on board from the very start.

nothing ever actually happened between you two, but Anthony liked to say those things to you, getting you flustered. after some time you started returning the favor, but you actually meant the things you said, you couldn’t say that for him surely. the first time you had done it, you were sure Anthony was at the verge of passing out

“fuck” he had muttered upon your sight “you don’t know half of the things i’d like to do to you”

you had walked up next to him, until he was feeling your breath on the side of his head, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “don’t be shy, baby” then you did as he always did and placed a lingering kiss onto his cheek.

the teasing and flirting was a red string throughout your whole relationship. it didn’t stop after George came along and also not after Lucy joined.

Lucy had often questioned George on the thing you and Anthony had going on. George would always just shrug his shoulders and explain that it was always like that. it didn’t take long for Lucy to grow used to your unusual banter.

it’s not that you didn’t like the things Anthony was saying to you, it actually made the butterflies in your stomach get active even more, but never did something actually happen, not more than a chaste kiss to the cheek.

after some time you grew frustrated. you put so much work in the supposedly relationship with Anthony, you had never pursued anything or anyone else for that matter. at the same time Anthony didn’t seem to grasp onto the concept that you wanted him to do these things to you, that you didn’t want himself from holding back to kiss you.

these mixed signals annoyed you to no end, so one day you finally snapped.

“hey sexy” Anthony leaned in your doorframe watching as you were reading on your bed

“not now, Lockwood” you muttered

the boy raised his eyebrows at the name. you never called him that, you never even called him Anthony. since you guys had met, you had always ever called him tony, or baby, which he found much more endearing and told you to use more often. so it actually became his new nickname

“what?” he asked confused “no baby?”

you rolled your eyes but ignored what he was saying, so he stepped into the room

“i wish i could take off your shirt-“

he stopped when he met your glaring eyes. he thought he was in for scolding, but you just stood up, walking closer

“do it, then” you said

and his breath hitched in his throat. he was used to you entertaining his teasing, but you had never looked so serious while doing so

“w-what?” he exclaimed

“take off my shirt” you stepped even closer, until you were able to grab onto his hands and bring them to the hem of your shirt, like you were instructing him what to do.

“what”

you slowly raised up his hands, that were now gripping onto your shirt, and helped him pull it off your body. this action left you standing in a black bra.

Anthony’s eyes went down to your chest, breathing slowly.

“what is-“ he was still not quite himself, the teasing had always stopped at the verge of undressing each other- well not this time

“what are you gonna do?” you asked slowly “are you gonna take off your shirt? are you gonna sleep with me? or are you about to leave, proving your words to be empty”

“i don’t-“ he muttered, still trying to grasp onto what was happening

“that’s what i thought” you nodded, grabbing your shirt from his hands and pulling it over your head. it was only than that he noticed how dressed up you were.

your make up was perfect and your hair had been curled and styled. he watched as you walked back to your bed, grabbing your bag and pulling out red lipstick, that you put on at the varsity across from him.

“what are you doing?” he asked as his eyes found yours in the mirror

“i’m going out”

“what? why?”

“look” you said stepping next to him “i’m just tired. i’m going to sleep with someone tonight and honestly, i don’t care if it’s you or quill kipps of all people”

his eyes grew big as you left him standing speechless in your room. he only realized what had just happened when he heard the front door close. he rushed down the steps, but as he reached the door he could only watch you drive away in a cab.

“what’s going on?” asked George stepping next to Lockwood

“y/n just left”

“she left? without us? how is she gonna manage-“

“not for a case, George” Lockwood interrupted bitterly

“for- for a date?” George asked slowly, noticing the dark look that had plastered itself onto the other boys features

“fuck” Lockwood growled before he send a kick towards the rapier holder, sending it flying onto the ground

George stepped back to make room for the fuming boy, that was now retracing back to his room. in the mean time, George was joined by Lucy who had sat in the kitchen and was alarmed by the sudden noise.

“what’s going on?” she asked confused

“oh” George muttered, trying to keep in a laugh “y/n left for a date”

“he’s finally getting it?”

“seems like it”

George and Lucy had noticed how you both were utterly in love with each other. while you weren’t holding back on showing it, Lockwood didn’t even seem to realize.

they watched as Lockwood came rushing down the stairs, now wearing his coat. Lucy grabbed onto his arm to hold him back.

“where are you going?” she asked

“to find y/n”

“i don’t think you should” Lucy muttered “i think she gave you a fair chance, and as it seems you made your decision, now leave her be”

Lucy, who had quickly grown to be y/n’s best friend, knew everything about the latter girls feeling. she would often find her friend crying and begging for a reason why Lockwood never seemed to actually like her. she knew that she couldn’t handle the relationship the two were having anymore, but she also knew that y/n just couldn’t give up Anthony that fast, that’s why she didn’t, that’s why she let him make the choice.

“she’s going to sleep with bloody Kipps!” he protested

“what?” muttered George

“i know” said Lucy softly

“you know?” both boys asked. well, George was confused while Lockwood was angry

“and you didn’t talk her out of it?” he bellowed

“no? why would i? y/n’s a grown up, Kipps is a grown up. he’s handsome and funny and-“

“can i stop you right there?” Lockwood muttered while looking like he was about to stab Lucy “you send her out to have sex with- with someone-”

“with someone?” Lucy asked, before she finished the sentence her self “with someone that isn’t you?”

“yes, god-damnit!” Lockwood screamed

“you had your chance, Lockwood” Lucy exclaimed without any sympathy for the boy. she had watched y/n cry too often because of him to still be sympathetic. “and you blew it, end of story. if you don’t want her, than there are lots of others who do. don’t blame this on her, because you’re the one that never did anything about what was going on between you guys”

she grabbed George’s arm and Lockwood watched his friends retreat down to the kitchen. he took of his coat, sighing, tears in his eyes, because Lucy was right. it really was his fault after all

it wasn’t until the early morning that you made your way back into portland row.

you had kept your window open, which was on the side of the house, so you could climb in easily on top of the garbage bins.

you landed onto your bed, but it was only than that you noticed it being occupied by a body. “ow” said body exclaimed when you landed on top of him.

him as in Anthony Lockwood.

“Lockwood?” you whispered, stepping in front of the bed and watching as the boy got up slowly from the mattress.

“holy hell, y/n!” Lockwood spoke “where have you been all night?”

“oh no” you said while taking off your shoes “you’re not getting to yell at me now”

“i’m not— goddamnit!” he muttered, letting his head sink into his hands “i made you breakfast” he pointed at the tray he had brought.

“the tea must be cold by now” you noticed and he nodded

“listen” Lockwood stepped closer to you “i’m actually here, because i wanted to tell you how sorry i am about yesterday” he paused “i- i was an asshole and honestly there’s no real excuse for that, because it took me until yesterday to realize how real this between us was— is!”

“Lockwood” you said but he just shook his head

“i know that you left me a chance and i blew it— totally blew it, and i understand if you’d rather go out and sleep with Kipps for the rest of your life, but—“

you broke of his rambling by shaking your head “i didn’t sleep with Kipps” Lockwood let out a relieved breath “believe me, i was close to it, but then i just couldn’t”

he nodded, glad for your honesty, before he grabbed your hands

“i don’t want to prove my words to be empty ever again” he said “i want to sleep with you, but that’s not it, i want to be with you, all the time, every day. without pointless flirting, i mean, i do want to flirt with you, but for real”

you had to laugh at his rambling and nodded “ditto, baby”

“this part can stay as it is” he smiled upon recognizing the familiar name he had missed so much in the last few hours

“of course” you nodded

“can i take you shirt off, now?” he asked, slowly letting his hands wander to the hem of it.

“obviously” you laughed, before he took it off and pulled you closer to connect your lips in a passionate kiss

[justafandomgvrl]

Lockwood & Co. headcanons for Valentine's Day

short and sweet 💖

Lockwood

- you wake up, wrapped up tight in his arms. starting the day just being close to each other, legs entwined, him gently pressing kisses over your shoulders and upper back.

- he'd try to make you breakfast but on the 3rd attempt he'd just give up and take you out to a diner instead. obviously you would not be allowed to pay for any of it but you sneak a tip in for the waitress.

- you'd spend the day walking around London together, just enjoying each other's company. he wouldn't be wearing his suit for once, not feeling the need to wear his armour when he's out with you. just a grey hoodie, a white t shirt, and black jeans.

- you know that you must be truly special to him because he doesn't bring up work or finding a job even once. even though neither of you says anything about what day it is, you both know how much love you have for each other and that's what matters. you don't need to say it.

- when it starts to get dark you'd get a cab back to portland row. you'd then watch VHS tapes of old shows together until George shouts for everyone.

- it'd be a huge dinner cooked for everyone, spending the evening meal together like a family. you and Lockwood hold hands under the table. Lucy and George smile at each other, but say nothing.

Lucy

- you'd wake up to a cup of tea and a note on the bedside table. 'drink this and come to the basement x'.

- the basement would be empty except for another note and a small box of chocolates. 'find me in the library x'.

- on the desk you see a book that you'd been searching for, for months. Lucy steps into the library behind you. "I knew you were looking for it, so I got it for you. Happy Valentine's Day." She'd whisper, wrapping her arms around you.

- you'd spend the day eating the box of chocolates she got for you, sharing them with her and cuddling in bed. just taking an easy day, being in each others company.

- until George shouts for everyone to have dinner together. you sit across from each other and have conversations with your eyes and your feet that nobody else understands but that's okay. no one else needs to.

George

- you wake up next to each other in bed. George struggles with touching anybody without necessity but his arm is slung lazily over you as he snores.

- you slip out of his grasp and head down to the library, making sure everything is ready. you'd spent most of the night bringing things down to the library to make a good day for him.

- you could hear him calling through the house for you and the soft thuds of his feet heading toward the library. he stands there in just his shirt and boxers and has to take his glasses off to rub his eyes to make sure he isn't dreaming.

- "happy Valentine's Day." you tell him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. content, you both lose track of time reading until George realises he needs to cook dinner and that maybe, just this once, you can help him and he can teach you something.

- you all sit down for a family dinner and just laugh and talk about anything except the Problem.

- George smiles at you from across the table and you know you have never been happier than you are now.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi !! Could you do a fic where George and reader were best friends until they moved away at like age 9 & coincidentally move in right next to lockwood and co years later. Like a lighthearted reconnecting with old friends vibe :D thank you !! 👾

A/n: I don’t know if anyone else is experiencing this but every time I add the readmore thingy, like half of my fic is immediately erased for like no fucking reason. So plz bear with me with not adding a ‘readmore’ thingy on this long ass fic.

“Do you have to go?” George asked, feeling as though he was already loosing a vital part of himself and you hadn’t even physically left yet but to the little boy with the dark hair and glasses, clutching your hand tight in his own; you might as well already have.

“I don’t want to,” you admitted, grasping his hand as though it were the only thing keeping you grounded, “but mom and dad said it’s what’s best and that I’ll see you again soon one day but.” You turned your head to look at George. “What if I never see you again? Or worse, forget you! I don’t want to forget my best and only friend….it’s unfair.” Your lower lip wobbled at the end, causing your voice to waver as tears brim your eyes.

The aspect of never again being nose deep in books with George or helping his mother out in the kitchen whenever you went over to his house after school haunted you. It hurt knowing that from here on out you’d be forced to survive without George and vice versa. It felt wrong to leave George, it felt vile and it felt arbitrarily wrong like you and George were meant to stay together even well into old age and the afterlife.

“We’ll see each other again.” George said definitively, helping you wipe the tears from your eyes. “How can you be so sure?” You asked him, looking at him as though he held all the answers. “The reason why I’m so sure is because we’re the best of friends.” He says, reaching into his pocket to pull out a sloppily made bracelet of burgundy thread with beads that spelt out your name, accompanied by an array of colourful beads as to fill out the rest of the bracelet.

“And because we’re the best of friends, we’d always find our ways back to each other.” He then proceeds to place the bracelet onto your wrist where it hung slightly loose but not enough for it to slip off your wrist completely. “Georgie, it’s-“ “y/n! It’s time to go!” Your parents yelled from their car, waiting for you, causing you to jolt at their abruptness before looking back at George who’s eyes lost their glow once he realised that his time spent with you had came to an end.

You smiled softly at him as you brought him into a tight hug, “it’s okay Georgie,” you whispered, “we’ll find each other, remember.” You pulled away, still smiling but a little teary eyed. “This isn’t goodbye, this is simply a see you later.” Were the last words you said to him before you were setting off for the long road ahead.

Lucy was walking past George’s room when something caught her eye; a picture frame on his bedside desk consisting of two kids, one of them being George from the glasses and dark hair, his arm thrown over another kid who was mimicking his action by throwing their arm over him, smiling widely. She had so many questions concerning the other kid but before she could act upon her next move; George had appeared out of thin air, looking over her shoulder and saw what she was looking at.

“What’re you doing?” Lucy jolted in fright, seeing him hover over her shoulder “Jesus George, stop fucking doing that!” She hissed but he only shrugged, “I’m sorry Lucy, now tell me what we’re you doing standing in front of my room like a burglar with anxiety.” Lucy could only scoff at his comments before looking back at the picture frame that held her curiosity. “Who’s the other kid in the picture?” She asked and when she looked back at George, his eyes held a sadness in them, “you don’t have to say if it makes you uncomfort-“

“Y/n.” He said, “their name is y/n, my childhood friend. That photo,” he gestures to the picture, “was taken days before they had to leave with their parents elsewhere. Where’d they go? I don’t know,” George said softly as he past her to enter his room, sitting himself on the bed as he reached for the framed photo with a look of nostalgia, his finger tracing over your smile, “but we made a promise to find each other one day…and I’m still waiting…” neither of the pair spoke, feeling as it was an inappropriate time to do so. Until a knock at the door sounded.

“We’re you expecting someone?” George asked.

“No, you?” Lucy then asked.

“No.” George replied.

The pair then journeyed down the stairs together where Lockwood had already beaten them in answering the door and there you stood. “Hey, I just moved in next door and just wanted to say hi, so…hi.” You said, feeling a little awkward being in the presence of three people as you raised your hand to rub your arm out of habit which allowed George to get a good look at your bracelet.

It had the same burgundy thread, even if it was a little worn down from time, the same lettered beads of which spelt out your name and even the same array of coloured beads he used to fill out the rest of the bracelet. It was you. You had came back home.

George was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t hear himself saying your name until he caught how you, Lucy and Lockwood looked at him. You started intently at the dark haired, glasses wearing boy as though you were staring at him under a microscope. Looking at him caused an itch within your memory that you couldn’t quite scratch, he looked so familiar but the problem lied in why he looked familiar.

“I’m sorry I don’t think we’ve-“ “every time you came over to my house after school, you’d always insist on us watching Casper The Friendly Ghost because you always thought that my middle name being the same as the titular character’s name was cool.” George cuts you off and he saw the look of recognition in your eyes afterwards. There was only one person who knew that little tidbit about you and that was.

“Georgie?” You asked. “Is that you?” “Does one plus one equal two?.” He says, trying his hardest not to smile but it was near enough impossible when your face was practically splitting in two from the force of your smile. “Georgie!” You squealed, holding your arms out and George scoffed but moved past Lucy and Lockwood so you could bring him into your arms, locking his own arms at your waist.

“It’s so good to see you.” You spoke into his shoulder, “god I missed you so much.” George snorts, “clearly not enough if your going to end up forgetting about me.” He states playfully but his grip on you only tightened much like it did the day he was forced to say goodbye. “Oh don’t be like that Georgie.” You told him as you pulled away from him to look into his face, “your too much of a unique character to be forgotten.” George raised his brows at you, “is that your sensitised way of calling me a weirdo?” He asks.

“Never.” You replied, “it just means that only people of equal uniqueness get to embrace you in all of your entirety.” You shrugged.

“Please don’t ever try to sound smart again, it doesn’t suit you.” George groans which only made you laugh.

Lucy and Lockwood, who were still stood at the doorway watching on as the two of you caught up, shared a look. “Are we invisible or?” Lockwood asks. “Let’s leave them be,” Lucy said as she looked back at you and George, remembering how sad her friend looked when staring at the picture of you both, “they’ve got some catching up to do.”

[wellgoslowly]

my essay on lucy's usage of "Anthony" in romantic/tense interactions with Lockwood (Spoilers for Lockwood's past!)

ok so a couple of hours ago I made a post that said "after reading so many first kiss locklyle fics and seeing so many people write a part where Lockwood says he likes it when Lucy calls him "Anthony", I've come to the conclusion that he likes it because he hasn't heard his first name said with obvious love and adoration since his parents and Jessica died- until Lucy came along. In this essay I will..." and while that idea was something I was legitimately thinking about, I wasn't really actually intending to write an essay until people showed interest in it so here's the full "why Lockwood likes it when Lucy calls him Anthony" essay.

BIG DISCLAIMER: I haven't finished reading the books yet (I don't really care about spoilers, I already know a lot just from being a part of the fandom online), but if I get anything wrong or don't include anything that might be big, please let me know!!

Ok, so we all know that Donald and Celia died when Lockwood was 6. They were (obviously) the ones who named him and the ones who gave his name meaning for the first 6 years of his life. they were the ones who said his name softly when he was a baby and trying to lull him back to sleep, they were the ones who called "Anthony!" when it was time for dinner, they were the ones who introduced him to others as "my son, Anthony". They were the ones who gave his name meaning in the first place.

I also don't know if this is stated or not, but I feel like his name probably had some significant meaning to Donald and Celia. Through a small google search, the name Anthony shows up as associated with meanings such as "He who adds", "He who stands out", "The Deep Thinker", "Very Strong", "Magnetic", "Unconventional", and "Idealistic". It's also said to come from the name of Hercules's son, Anton. Even in trying to grasp for the smallest shreds of symbolism in this, it's very obvious that his parents were trying to raise a strong, caring, and brave son.

After his parents died, the only person he really had left that called him Anthony and gave it meaning was Jessica. She was the one who would say his name with exasperation when he was being annoying, she became to one who called his name when it was time for dinner, and she was the one who would call out his name when she needed help or wanted to ask him a question. I bet she even used his name when she asked him to help her unpack the crate that contained the artifact that would end up killing her.

The common trend isn't only that the people who made his name mean something were his family- it's that the people who made his name mean something were all people who prioritized taking care of him. After the deaths of his family, he had only person that he could trust to take care of him: himself.

He isolated himself both consciously and unconsciously when he became an agent- I feel like it probably became a way to make sure that he occupied himself with an activity he never had while he was growing up (something that could be possibly devoid of possible hurtful memories of his past).

I can imagine that people started calling him by his last name because of Gravedigger Sykes- he just seems like the type of guy who would call everyone by their last names even if you asked him not to. And that was probably an escape for Lockwood- he was able to become a different person (Lockwood) and differentiate himself from the "helpless" child that he used to be (Anthony). Lockwood became not only his name, but it was a mask for him to hide his grief behind and he just forced himself to grow into it.

The closest thing that he gets to being called Anthony is when Kipps calls him "Tony", or when one of his past employees called him "Big A", which implies that either he has made it explicitly clear that he doesn't want to be referred to as Anthony whatsoever, or he took time to rebuild whatever reputation he had and rewrite the impression that people had of him, turning their idea of him as a person from being filed under "Anthony" to "Lockwood". Either way, it's something that would take time. Even if he blows off the name change as Anthony being "something only his family called him", it doesn't change the fact that for the first 10 years of his life, that was the name he responded to. I feel like if his family had lived, he'd still go by Anthony- he wouldn't need to differentiate between the persona that Lockwood provides and the core personality that Anthony offers.

Having all of this in mind, when Lucy walks into 35 Portland Row, he is immediately drawn to her. We later learn that she reminds him of his sister and how feisty and headstrong Jessica could be. This puts his recklessness when it comes to putting his life in danger to save hers, and the "you know I'd die for you" quote into a different perspective- she has become his family in more ways than one. He already blames himself for Jessica's death- he'd do anything to save Lucy, first because of her similarity to Jessica and then because he's started falling in love with her, because he doesn't want to lose someone else because of his negligence or his arrogance.

When Lucy calls him "Anthony", it's going to mean a lot to him- the last people who called him that and put any meaning behind it were his family, who loved him unconditionally, valued him beyond belief, and tried to take care of him the best that he could. And now, he has the opportunity to experience that again through this young girl who has never been taught love in her life, but somehow gets it right just by saying his first name. It's the fact that she feels like she doesn't know how to love properly, but that small gesture for someone who has loved and lost is more than enough.

It's her way of saying that she values both the person he is for the rest of the world, her boss, and her best friend (Lockwood) but that she also loves the child inside of him who just wants to love someone as fiercely as he had been loved, the promise of the person he could've been (Anthony).

holy shit I just wrote all of that. hope yall enjoyed my rant. sorry for any emotions that may come as a side effect. <3

@lucy-j-carlyle @atatanya @xamdsona @losticaruss @incorrectlco @syfygirl1998 tagging everyone who seemed interested in the essay :)

[delicatebluebirdruins]

the creeping shadow first read

books 1&2, book 3

one day i will have a solid grasp on what to name these... not this day (this was my first book of 2024 i was reading it during Jooles Hootenany and was like two chapters? away from the end? i have no idea wish i made a note oh well)

this book is an ex library from somewhere called Snodland. SNODLAND. i just want to laugh.

5 Emma Marchment ghost hunting with mirrors which is actually really fun

13 Wan Tina, Medicore Ted and Jumpy Dave. Hello [temporary] team mates 14 "concerned about supervisors that they never acted like proper teams" it must be very hard to rely on people to keep you alive but you also have to rely on adults most of the time (what happened with Lucy in her home town being an extreme case of the unique hardships that brings)

21 "hey there's nothing disgusting about random body parts" lmao skull

33 Dave is the only one who has rights. (and he and Lucy being little shits is so funny)

39 the skull had a point about the flower pot

43 "the slim and elegant figure of Holly Munro standing picturesquely beside him [Lockwood]" detect a little jealous and bit of yearning for Lockwood

49 "[Lockwood] and that girl were still on a high when they came in. Quite exhilarated. Laughing and giggling together." a little hurt and jealousy electric boogaloo

53 Skull and Lucy in a flatshare situation (i need Lockwood's pov)

58 the skull feels bad for Lucy

60 the shock of seeing Lockwood at her door is great. His smile "it was warm but somewhat hesitant, as if it hadn't been recently used. It was the smile I'd hazily imagined a hundred times; only now it was real, solid, meant just for me" this entire bit so much is said but not outright you know?

her spiel about his chosen tie and her own thoughts about her reaction also the laundry bag and Lockwood holding it is so i would rather die (hilarious to think about this scene happening in the show just in general but imagine if we got this scene AND they kept the towel scene in the show)

66 "Making tea is a ritual that stops the world from falling in on you" I just like all the quotes about tea

70 first off I want to know what was said when Lockwood "growing angry with me at last" and just laugh at Lucy imagining him going down on bended knee asking her to return to the company

82 "what could it be?... not a date surely?- the boy's got eyes" the skull my love

92 this is awkward

96 just the entire bit about crackers is so funny

100 Penelope is a locklyle shipper so one of us (also this would be so great in the show as it would be following the "you feel safe with him"

103 "I didn't feel bad about the fib though. I'd been lied to as well"

104 the Rotwell mascot is called Roger? also the posters are great

108 the heck? the mummified head Lucy finds at the start of the book is not destroyed?

111 I love this chat with Holly but what was she going to ask "I was going to ask you about -whether you found- oh good, and here are the boys too" like come on what was it?

121 KIPPS!

146 talking about the skull is so funny

152 snapshots of the past

157 compliments "I couldn't help smiling back at him. Compliments from Lockwood were always nice to hear"

163 creepy "the sound of teeth clacking together" this is horrible

173 Locklyle "thank goodness for you Lucy... I can always rely on you"

176 Lockwoood is more reckless and George upset about it and Lucy

182 Uh oh spaghettios Lucy's flat has been broken into

188 Harold might have done it?

195 love this bit "strange how close the darkness is, even when things seem brightest. Even in the glare of a summer noon, when the pavement bakes and the iron fences are hot to the touch, the shadows are still with us"

203 Harold is dead gods

215 Lockwood seeing Lucy appear at her doorstep is also something i want to see his pov on

221 talking about Holly staying over and Lucy feeling a little hurt by it

234 lmao Lockwood and George's superior nursing skills. and the second client of the day.

241 "creeping shadow" roll credits

248 nice relaxing moment in the garden

261 i love the spirit capes 269 I love disguises

281 the skull is so funny

283 "I've missed you so much Lucy" Lockwood said that and I yell and rereading it now my only though is he blurted that out and barreled on not letting Lucy respond (she wanted to)

290 Mr Johnson? hello 292 Hi Adelaide (i really like that name)

301 capes and Lockwood putting one on Lucy first.

315 Information on Rotwell

323 "there is a battle to be won - not simply against ghost, but against death itself" hm interesting

331 Castle! can't wait

342 punch the boy also considered by Lockwood

354 At last the goggles are being used

363 should have locked Reverend Skinner in his rooms

370 aw Lucy just happy to be with Lockwood

379 Rotwell is an ass

389 poor lady and this would be horrifying to see on screen

395 hi buddy 397 them holding hands is so cute

(the Iron Chain) 407 technically you guys walked into the Black Library at Fittes.

414 helpful Lockwood "the hole's between those two black posts"

417 "it was the desisive action. once through, we could never take it back." uh oh

426 Lockwood's orders is great 435 oh my god 437 holy shit

442 the skull remains a little shit 446 guys that was a little close

450 good job ghosts avoiding Guppy and just the Locklyle of it all

459 I am nervous

464 oh god Lucy 469 SKULL! "his grin, which gleamed sardonically even in the swirling dusk and was somehow most familiar"

474 GO ON GEORGE "he's like a whirling dervish" 477 HUGS between Lucy and Holly

481 saving Kipps and the imagery is cool

484 kick Rotwell's ass!

(practically thinking how they would adapt this scene in the show this has a lot of working parts more than the Winkman fight because there is more people, practical affects, special affects and having it in a probable 8 episode season would not do it justice)

489 lmao Lucy and Lockwood deciding to give Georgie the last biscuit/ barrel

499 Lucy understands now

501 thanks Mr Skinner 504 Barnes asking them to be safe aw

511 intense eye contact

518 Sir Rupert and Penelope is in their kitchen

520 Yikes 528 the skulls parting words had a "I beg your pardon" from me.

[impossibleclair]

Dead Hearts - a Lockyle fic

‘Luce?’

Crap.

I hastily dragged my sleeve under my eyes and turned away from the window. Lockwood stood there in my doorway, coat folded over his arm, his usual megawatt grin dampened slightly. His face fell further when he met my eyes.

‘What’s wrong?’

I swallowed hard; my throat was still swollen with tears. Despite my best efforts, I could feel my lower lip trembling.

He was at my side in moments, casting his coat onto the foot of the bed and gently grasping both of my arms. I fell into him, burying my face against his chest and wrapping my arms around his waist. He pulled me against him, warm and steady.

‘It’s all right, Luce, it’s okay…’

We stayed there for a little while, until my knees began to tremble. Lockwood withdrew, and led me by the hand to sit on the bed. He sat beside me, opened his arms in invitation. I crawled into his lap, curling against his chest, where I could press my ear to his shirt and listen to his heart beating. The sound made it easier to breathe, somehow.

One of Lockwood’s hands found mine, and he paused.

‘Luce? What are you holding?’

I bit down on another sob. My hand, stiff from gripping tight around the object, slowly opened. Lockwood took the object with great care.

It was a salt bomb; a small, glass globe filled with shiny white grains that shifted as Lockwood held it up to look at it. It was slightly warped, the glass bubbled and melted on one side where it had been super-heated and cooled again. Streaks of ash were ingrained in the warped glass, making it look like the sphere was in eternal shadow.

‘What’s this?’ Lockwood asked, his voice soft.

It took a few tries to make my voice work.

‘I picked it up… during the night at Wythburn Mill…’

I felt the gentlest of sighs pass through his chest.

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I see.’

He rolled the salt bomb in his hand, lightly passing his thumb over the warped side. The salt within whispered as it shifted.

His hand returned to mine, pressing the salt bomb back into my palm and wrapping over it.

‘I’m so sorry, Luce.’

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to say so much – about that night, about the friends I’d lost, about how it still hurt, still made me want to scream and cry until all the pain was gone – but it never comes out right when you try to verbalise those things.

Instead, I held Lockwood’s hand, the salt bomb pressed between our palms. I tucked my head beneath his chin, and he slid a hand into my hair, running his fingers through it, deftly undoing tangles where he found them.

‘I love you, Lockwood.’

His hand stilled. Panic shot through me; of all the things I’d considered saying, that wasn’t one of them. It had just… slipped out.

I felt him shift. Warm lips pressed a kiss to my temple.

‘I love you too, Lucy.’

He returned to resting his chin on the top of my head. His hand continued stroking my hair.

My heart slowed. I leaned into him, and closed my eyes.

(Also on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44408626/chapters/111694141 )

[vinnygordon]

Some thoughts when listening to the audiobook of The Hollow Boy.

I just realised Lucy at the beginning wished Holly would fall in a hole "preferably dusty and full of bones". And where did Lucy end up :) I love that. Especially when they work things out and she desperately wants her to be ok.

It's so funny when Holly finds Lucy talking to the Skull making so much more sense than her just going insane like XD

Ok but as much as I hated Lucy through most of the book just... The moment they work things out is one of my favourite parts of the book. Holly angry crying throughout, Lucy just trying to grasp how she's feeling. Lucy still thinking she was nice when she really damn wasn't but as a kid who acted like Lucy with their stepmum but she was being nothing but nice. I kinda understand.

It's a change it's scary and yeah as a group of kids who never got to develop properly it's bound to be like this.

THEM COMFORTING EACHOTHER IS EVERYTHING. Lucy resting her hand on Holly's arm when before she wouldn't have dared to touch her just "it's going to be fine."... Then Lucy getting anxious and Holly doing the same. Reminds me when George gets attacked an they cuddle on the couch under the blanket for comfort... It's so sweet and this is what Lockwood saw. This is what he meant they complement eachother.

Lucy is bi. That's all.

The Fetch really is horrifying if you think of it like Lucy... Course it affects her for ages. It influences her and scares her. Kinda like Jessica to Lockwood...

[wolfjawswriter]

“Real Companionship” - Lucy and The Skull

“Real Companionship” -

Lucy and The Skull

Lockwood and Co. Series

Summary: Not all dead things are bad company, some can be really good for lonely times.

—————————

“You know, my old master, Dr Bickerstaff, used to call me ‘the most pleasant of companionships’”

“And?” The skull sat on my desk, looking at me with its nose propped against the silver jar. Portland Row was quiet that night, the neighbors locked on their rooms, peacefully sleeping and waiting for the dangers of the night to vanish with dawn. As always, the 35 was not the same.

“Well, you seem desperate for someone to talk with” I snorted just like an amused horse.

“And that would be you, right?”

“Where are those Lockwood and Cubbins?” I looked down at my legs, which dangled from the couch’s end; my legs were not long enough to reach the ground.

“They’re out”

“Where?”

“In a job…with Holly”

“And they went without you! How could they? I thought they were your friends!” The skull frowned and, looking at it, I could almost think it was sad.

“They ARE my friends, they just…didn’t need me today” I looked away again, passing my hand on my sore thighs; that’s how you end up after running around a graveyard all night long. Never healthy.

“Where did that ‘Holly’ came from anyway?” The skull’s frown morphed into a smaller, sad grin. Usually I didn’t felt like talking to it, but tonight…maybe tonight I’d let it talk to me and I'll talk back.

“Lockwood thought it would be better if we had someone else with us to help with the cases”

“And hiring another girl was his decision, are you not enough female? Maybe he is not pleased with you?” Normally I would reply that with an angry snarl and say that was not true, but suddenly I wasn’t so sure “I would imagine you would be pleased to have another girl in the team”

“I don’t like other girls, they are annoying”

“Agreed, but...you are a girl”

“But I don’t annoy myself!”

“What have you got there?” I had taken out a big leather wrap from my rucksack and left it on my lap. Usually I took out everything from it when I got home, but something held me back today.

“Its a book” I whispered “I found it on the library”

“Something about the Problem, I reckon?”

“A novel, actually” the book was heavy and thick, it also had small letters, so it was obviously a big story. I had never heard of this story before, but I was told (by the librarian, and some other weird guy that had stood nearby) that it was a great and passionate tragedy with love, pain and, more than anything, revenge. I wasn’t going to finish it, probably, but I guessed it would be nice to start something different.

“What is it called?”

“The Count of Montecristo”

“Maybe we can read it together?” The skull offered me a smile that I could actually swear was real, but I had trouble to believe it. Anything about the skull was troublesome to believe, from its existence to his words and to the very last of his dust.

“Why would we?” I asked suspiciously.

“Because we are both in the need of some real companionship, and I guess we can both provide that for each other”

I remained silent, crossed the room towards my desk and took the jar, going back to the sofa.

“I guess we can” I made myself comfortable and firmly placed the jar between my legs. Opening the book, I felt something stir inside the jar, like a shudder, barely reaching me yet clear as day, as if the skull had shivered. Shivered from what? Skulls don't shiver! However, there will be more time to wonder about shuddering skulls in silver jars later.

“Chapter 1, Marseilles, The Arrival; On the 24th of February, 1810, the look-out at Notre Dame de la Garde signaled the three…”

——————Lockwood——————

I shouldn’t have told Lucy to stay!

When Mrs Lynn described the Visitor on the phone I thought we wouldn’t be needing her today, but we could have done with some insight of everything the stupid Changer had obviously been saying!

“Thank God we’re back!” After letting his rucksack fall on the floor, George made a bee-line for the kitchen, Holly and I after him. He immediately gave himself to the task of making something to eat for all of us.

“Hey Luce!…oh, right, she didn’t came with us” George and I looked to where Lucy normally sat, but her place was empty “you think she’s asleep?”

“I can go check on her if you want?” Holly offered.

“No need, she said she’d be downstairs, maybe she’s still down there” I made my way to the door and started down the stairs, and immediately caught the sound of a faint voice from below.

“…leaving the house to return to it no more.’ Fernand’s eye darted lightning. ‘And should any misfortune occur to you, dear Edmond,’ she continued with the same calmness which proved to Fernand that the young girl had read the very innermost depths of his sinister thought, ‘if any misfortune should occur to you, I would ascend the highest point of the Cape de Morgion and cast myself headlong from it.’ Fernand became deadly pale.”

“Lucy?” She'd been reading out loud.

“Yes, it seems she would throw and kill herself before marrying Fernand”

A green glow.

“I guess that’s what love does” I could hear her talking, but I couldn’t get any voice beside hers, which meant-

“Lucy, what are you doing?” She finally looked up to regard me almost annoyed.

“We’re reading” She shook the book a little.

“‘We’?”

“The skull and I” Lifting the jar from her lap, she looked at me like it was the most obvious thing. She hadn’t been like this when we left. So...edgy.

“George is making scrambled eggs for us, want to come?”

“Thanks, but I’m alright” Sinking back on the sofa, Lucy reopened the book, adjusting the skull’s jar between her legs.

“Shall we keep reading?”

The plasm on the jar lighted brightly green from a moment and I could feel the psychic disturbance that meant the skull had replied her.

“Very well then;

‘But you are deceived, Edmond,’ she continued. ‘You have no enemy here-there is no one else but Fernand, my brother, who will grasp your hand as a devoted friend.’…”

When I had already placed a foot on the stair’s steps, I looked back to see Lucy reading and the skull look back at me, a smug look and wide grin on his face.

I felt like I lost something important.

[askullinajar]

The Shattered Frame (Part 6/7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Fic info: this is a sequel to my previous fic, The Living Ghost so go read that or this won’t make sense. Rating: General. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani. Ao3 link: here.

A cluster of hauntings in a decrepit manor and the dripping spectre of a woman dressed all in black hits a little too close to home for Lockwood & Co’s newest member.

Part 6 – Lost and Found

The basement stairs had become a roaring waterfall. I took a second to seriously regret taking my shoes off to warm my feet by the fire as the icy water seeped through my socks, but there was no time to go back now; I heard crashes and shouts from below, felt the cold, the creeping fear, the malaise and miasma… My friends needed me.

I ignored the seriously uncomfortable squelch of my socks as I splashed down the stairs, rapier raised. The water at the base of the stairs nearly reached my knees, the iron chain we’d set up had been washed away. My friends were trapped in a corner, frantically slashing at Elizabeth’s legion of drowned spirits. Holly, unable to wield a rapier due to her injured arm, was throwing salt bombs and magnesium flares left, right and centre, but they fizzled out uselessly when they came into contact with the water. My own equipment had already become waterlogged by my dip in the pool, so I’d left it upstairs. I only had a rapier at my disposal today.

Elizabeth herself stood in the centre of the chaos, psychic wind whirling up torrents of water around her that occasionally lashed out and crashed into my friends leaving them soaked and gasping and vulnerable. The spirit wind had also blown away the drapes from the furniture, and wooden drawers and cabinets were being thrown into the wall, forcing my friends to duck and swerve. There was one piece of furniture Elizabeth seemed to be avoiding, though.

Lockwood spotted me. “Lucy! What are you doing here?!”

Kipps didn’t seem to mind so much. “Lucy, the vanity! Top drawer. We couldn’t get it open.”

I rushed over to the dressing table in question as fast as I could, forcing my legs to move against the churning water, but Elizabeth spotted me soon enough.

A great wave rose up and smashed into me, knocking me backwards and plunging me into the water. I fought against the panic rising in my throat over being underwater again so soon and forced myself back to my feet, spitting water out.

The others had used the distraction to move away from the corner and were making their way towards the vanity, slashing through Visitors in the process, but Elizabeth whipped back around and raised a mighty gust of wind that tore a huge armoire from the ground and hurled it towards them. It moved too fast for them to react, and collided straight into Kipps and Lockwood, pinning them to the ground as the water continued to rise.

“Lockwood! Quill!” I screamed, slashing at the ghost of a youth in an agency uniform as I waded towards them. Fortunately, only their legs were trapped, so they were managing to keep their torsos above the surface of the water for now, but it was rising fast.

I managed to reach them and grasped the armoire along with George and Holly and pulled. We managed to inch it up enough for Kipps to wiggle out, but Lockwood was still stuck fast, and the water was now at his shoulders.

“It’s too heavy!” Holly cried, her voice shrill in panic. Even with Kipps helping now, the armoire wouldn’t budge. It didn’t help that the Visitors were still advancing, and we kept having to pause our heaving to slash them away.

“Where’s that bloody ex-ghost and his superpowers when we need him?!” George seethed through gritted teeth as we gave the armoire another heave.

“Maybe if you were a little nicer to him he’d want to help us!” I snapped back.

“…lost…”

I whirled around as I felt the rush of cold air as Elizabeth moved towards us. Kipps swore loudly, and Lockwood cried out in pain as the armoire shifted without me supporting it.

Then a supernatural force swept the armoire away from Lockwood. It sailed over my head and crashed into the far wall, and the water rippled as splinters of mahogany showered down. I looked up and felt a rush of gratitude and relief when I saw Skully stood halfway down the staircase, arm raised.

“About time!” George yelled, heaving a gasping Lockwood to his feet. “What took you so long, Jim?!”

The room fell silent as Elizabeth’s ghost seemed to just… stop. Her image flickered, the water stopped churning, the wind died down. And her next words made my blood run cold.

“…Jim…Jimmy…?”

George’s eyes widened as they darted between Elizabeth and Skully, and I could almost see the cogs turning in his brain. I felt like an idiot for not realising before; the timelines added up. Of course, coincidences happen, but I should have known from the way Skully had reacted when he had come to my rescue out at the pool when he’d seen the ghost for the first time. He’d been acting strange ever since. I suppose seeing the ghost of your twin sister, locked forever in the gruesome image of when she’d died, would shake anybody up. I didn’t blame him for being reluctant to help us fight her, except now he didn’t have much choice.

Skully’s face was pale, but his jaw was set. He walked stiffly and slowly down the remaining stairs. He made no reaction as his feet plunged into the icy water at the base of the stairs. He walked calmly forwards until he was face to face with his sister.

“Hey, Lizzy.”

I’d never heard him sound so defeated. His voice so hoarse and quiet. It made my stomach twist painfully.

Elizabeth stared at him with dark eyes. The same eyes as her brother. Her weightless hair drifted silently around her face, her dress rippled softly at her feet.

“… brother…Jimmy…lost…”

He tilted his head to one side and scanned her face, a weak smile on his lips. “You got old. You look like mum.”

“…gone…lost…Jim…”

Skully let out a breath of air and looked towards the floor. “You’d have killed me for saying that.”

I knew what he was trying to do - I’d tried it myself with many Visitors, though of course, it wasn’t the same. He wanted to open the rift a little wider, to let her reach out to him. He wanted to talk to his sister again. But it was no use. Elizabeth Moore, or Lizzy Walker as she’d once been called, was merely a fraction, an echo, of the person she once was. Where Skully had come back to the world of the living voluntarily, her spirit had remained tied here by the goals she had yet to fulfil. She didn’t want to live anymore, and so her connection was weak.

“…Jimmy…”

Skully’s smile was sad, and it didn’t stay on his face for long. “You’re still here coz you didn’t know what happened to me. That’s your unfinished business, right? Well, some arseholes sliced off my head in a sewer. I’ll save you the details.”

Even now he was attempting to keep up his old sarcastic wit, but it sounded half-hearted. Weak. Like he was trying so hard to stay strong.

I resisted the urge to go to him, to let him know I was there for him; I could see how much he was hurting, but I knew this was something he had to deal with on his own.

Skully swallowed thickly. “I’m here now, okay? I’m safe.” He looked up at his sister one last time and gave her a sad smile. “Time to go, sis. I’ll see you again, one day.”

Then Elizabeth reached out her hands towards his face. I gave a shout and tried to run forwards. I heard the others cry out and water splash behind me. But the water weighed our legs down and there was no way we could get to him in time. We could only watch as Elizabeth’s ghostly fingers touched Skully’s skin.

And then she was gone. The psychic hum in my ears that warned of supernatural presence vanished, as did the ghosts of those who had drowned here, and the water began to drain off through grates on the basement floor.

I scrambled forwards towards Skully, praying that the ghost-touch wasn’t serious, that we could get him to a hospital in time, but when I reached him I saw that his skin was clear. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding; his powers must have made him immune to ghost-touch.

I scrutinised his face; his expression was unnervingly blank as he stared past my shoulder. “Are you alright?”

I guess it was kind of a stupid question. He said nothing as he moved past me towards Elizabeth’s vanity. He raised his hand, and I jumped as the drawer slammed open with a bang.

Skully just stood there for a moment, hand still hovering over the drawer, staring down at its contents. I edged forwards and stood beside him.

There were a few things that could have been Elizabeth’s source: a wad of letters, an iron ring, a picture frame with the glass cracked… I reached for the ring.

“Don’t –” Skully warned.

Too late. My fingers brushed against the cold metal, and my head flooded with echoes of the past.

First, there was noise. A familiar noise; the chaos of a large family. Bickering, shouting, laughter… The creak of a rocking chair, the bubbling of pots on the stove, a crackling fire, the scratch of a pen nib on paper… I felt the warmth of familiarity, anger at annoying siblings replaced by the joy of working together to cause mischief… But the sounds faded, as did the warm feeling in my chest, replaced instead by loss and grief and pain… but also the fire of determination. To pick myself up and carry on.

Now it was quiet. But I heard whispers. About life and death. Spirits and the Other Side. My heart burned with admiration, loyalty. And my back burned with pain.

“Lucy…”

The whispers turned to shouts. Frantic, angry. Fear coursed through me. Footsteps pounded on stone, then splashed in shallow water. More shouts. More pain. This time around my throat. I heard screaming…

“Lucy!”

My eyes snapped open. Lockwood was gripping my arm, staring at me with wide eyes. I had one hand still grasped around my throat, clawing at a wire that wasn’t there. I drew a shaky breath as I lowered my hand. I was trembling all over, but it had nothing to do with the cold. Slowly, I unclenched my other hand from around the iron ring and looked up at Skully. That hadn’t been Elizabeth’s life I’d been feeling.

His expression was unreadable as he held out his hand towards me. Without a word, I dropped the ring onto his palm, and he slipped it onto his finger. Then he turned back to the drawer and pulled out the wad of letters. He stared at them for a moment, at the writing scrawled out on the top envelope, then he held them out in the general direction of the others in a silent request.

“I can’t… I can’t read these.”

It was George who moved forwards and took the letters from him. He unfolded the first slowly, swallowed, and read:

“‘Dearest Arthur,

“As you read this I shall be on a carriage headed to London. I wish to tell my siblings of our coming wedding in person, as it had been so long since I have seen their faces.

“As you know, my father passed almost five years ago, so it is my hope that my closest brother, James, will take over the role of giving me away. I am so looking forward to the both of you meeting, I am sure you will get along well.

“It has been so long since I have seen him, though it feels like yesterday that Jimmy and I were stealing eggs from Mr Gregory’s hens and throwing them at his windows. I hear he has taken a job as an assistant to a respectable doctor. I hope he is treating him well and giving him an education as you did for me.

“I hope to return to you by the end of the week, my darling. Stay out of trouble until then.

“With love,

“Elizabeth.’”

George cleared his throat as he fumbled to open the next letter. The rest of us remained silent, shivering quietly to ourselves, still sopping wet. Holly had her arms hugged tightly around herself, her expression downcast and grim; Kipps looked slightly sick; Lockwood’s brows were furrowed. I eyed Skully; his face was still blank as he reached into the drawer and pulled out the frame.

Beneath the cracked and dusty glass lay a drawing in faded ink. It featured two children, a boy and girl stood side by side. He was much younger in the drawing, but I’d recognise Skully’s grin anywhere, and scrawled at the bottom were the words ‘Jimmy and Lizzy, age 10’, followed by a signature: A. Walker.

George had unfolded the second letter.

“‘My love,

“I am afraid I shall be staying in London for longer than I had planned.

“The doctor my brother was working for has been found dead, and Jimmy is missing. My oldest brother, Thomas, says he had not heard from him in weeks. I have contacted the police, but they are being difficult. They say people like Jim go missing all the time, but why should that mean they shouldn’t search for him? I shall have to contact more private investigators.

“Please add my brother to your prayers tonight.

“Love,

“Elizabeth.’”

The girl in the drawing was smiling broadly. Even though the ink had faded, her eyes seemed to sparkle. Skully sank to his knees.

“‘Arthur,’” George read after unfolding the next letter. “‘The detectives I hired handed me my fathers ring this morning. Jimmy began wearing it after our parents passed. They found it in the sewers. They say bodies are left down there often. I fear the worst.’”

“That’s enough, George,” Lockwood said, quietly, and George set the rest of the letters down carefully on the vanity.

I looked down at Skully. He hadn’t said a word since George had started reading, he just stared at the frame that rested in his lap.

And then he screamed.

It was a sound so raw and painful that it made my gut ache, and psychic energy seemed to burst from him. The others and I staggered back from the force of it. Furniture splintered, the plaster on the wall cracked, the small basement windows shattered, as did the glass of the frame in Skully’s hands.

Then the room fell silent once more, and Skully hunched over, eyes tightly closed, jaw clenched, shoulders shaking.

Slowly, I moved forwards and knelt down next to him, before wrapping my arms around him and resting my head on his shoulder. Lockwood limped over, too, and knelt down behind him and lay a hand on his other shoulder. I guess he knew what it was like to lose a sister.

None of us said anything. There was nothing to say.

After a moment, Skully reached up and grabbed the arm I had wrapped around his torso, gripping it tightly like he was holding on for dear life, like he was afraid to let go. And, with his other hand, he clutched the shattered frame.

Previous Next

[veiledflattery]

Hi! I saw you opened for requests and I love Lockwood & Co., so I was wondering if you could write a Locklyle story? Thank you! ♡

Here you go, good old Locklyle ghost-fighting plus some kissing. I haven’t come up with a name for this fic yet, so I’d love any suggestions if you have them. 

Lucy’s first kiss went exactly how she’d have expected it to – rushed,fumbling, and in the dark. Well, maybe the strands of ectoplasm steaming all around them were never reallypart of the picture she’d imagined. But really, with her luck and her line ofwork, it wasn’t such a surprise. Oh, who was she kidding? 

It had started with a particularly mysterious case, as so many of thesedisasters did. A haunted hotel room, two guests badly ghost-touched postrenovation work. “Why were they so spread out, though? According to these records, MrSullivan died almost four months after Mr Donovan did." "Yes, and apparently other guests stayed there between the cases andreported no ill effects. A Mr and Mrs Fulbright, these two collegestudents…” Lockwood ran his long fingers over the list, considering.“Maybe the Visitor has trouble materialising?”Lucy shook her head. “It’d have to be a weak type one then, and couldn’thave such a nasty ghost-touch.”Lockwood nodded, leaning back in his armchair. The lantern they’d lit in themiddle of the landing sent shadows flickering across his features. He had thatcalm, focused look he only had when they were on a case – brow uncreased, lipsupturned. It was rare sight these days, and if Lucy had left the skull at homejust so that she could admire that look in peace… no one had to know.Lockwood tilted his head towards her grinning. “We’ll figure it out, Luce.We always do.”“Let’s get on it then, the night’s as dark as it’s going to get,”Lucy replied, smiling back. She checked the chains around the lantern one last time while Lockwood ruffledthrough the kitbags. She loved these moments, when they worked in tandemwithout having to say a word. It was like the old days, before Holly or Flo orany of the crazy things that had been happening lately.Lockwood passed along her bag before leading the way down the narrow corridor.They went slowly, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness. As they neared theroom Lucy opened her Senses, inner and outer. There was the creaking of thefloorboards, the dim howling of the wind outside. But on a psychic level…silence. They secured the door open using George’s stopper (Lucy refused to call it aDFD) and started doing their regular assessments. “Just two death glows, as expected…”“Temperature eighteen degrees, point five lower in this corner…”Nothing alarming, really. They set out chains in the middle of the room andsettled in to wait. “So, why couldn’t Holly make it today? I know George stayed back to doresearch, but we’re pretty caught up on all the filing work." "Oh, I gave her the night off. Figured you and I could handle this.”Lockwood said, flashing her that smile.“Ah,” not for the first time, Lucy thanked the darkness for hidingher slight flush. “Well, yeah, I just thought you liked having her as abackup.”Lockwood examined her expression for a moment, then sighed. “Luce… youknow Holly could never change your place with me, right? You and I used to dothis all the time. It doesn’t change now just because Holly’s part of thecompany.”Lucy puzzled over the words for a few minutes. What did that wording mean? Thatstrange tone?But before she could figure it out, Lockwood’s tone changed again. This one wasdecidedly warning. “Luce,” he said, breath pluming in the air infront of him. Lucy cursed internally. How had she missed the sudden temperaturedrop? Blasted Lockwood and his tones and his shiny flop of hair.They both got to their feet, Senses on full alert. Lucy cautiously stepped outof the chains and ran her fingers over the green wallpaper. Still nothing. Sheclosed her eyes, Listening and feeling along the wall. No traces of death orpsychic activity.Then she bumped into the vanity. 

The onslaught of sensation was instant, and devastating. Loss, suchterrible loss. A gravestone and screams of bereavement, echoing and echoing,never leaving, so empty and alone… so alone…Lucy yanked her hand away, whirling across the room to put as much distance aspossible between her and that terrible feeling. “The vanity,” shegasped, “it belonged to someone. A woman. She lost someone, she used tocry there. I think it might also be the place where she poisoned herself.”Lockwood put a warm, steadying hand on her shoulder. “That’s probably theSource then, a straightforward Cold Maiden haunting. Well done, Luce. We’lljust seal it up and – oh.”Lucy turned to see what he was looking at. Frost had crept over the mirror of the vanity. Whatever Type this was, it wasmanifesting fast. Tendrils of ectoplasm swirled through the forming ghost fog,curling into a vaguely humanoid shape. A figure with her head in her hands. Sheraised her featureless face towards them. Lucy caught snippets: alone… so sad,lost… no one…It was strange. Tendrils of ectoplasm were jabbing towards the chains where sheand Lockwood stood, but they weren’t menacing, somehow. The feeling she gotfrom them was almost… benevolent. Like they were doing them a favour bytrying to kill them.She was snapped out of her thoughts by the snick of Lockwood drawing hisrapier. “Plan C. You know the drill. I’ll engage, you seal.”He leapt into action, criss-crossing his rapier through the ectoplasm andpushing the ghost back and away from the Source. Shaking off her daze, Lucypulled a large silver net from her bag and made her way towards thevanity. And then, another humanoid shape started forming in front of the mirror. Lucyreeled back, brandishing the net in front of her. “Lockwood! There’s twoof them!”She felt backwards with her foot, trying to find the chains, but her leg hitsomething else instead. Something tall, and solid – “Luce, stop kicking me.”Oh. They’d backed into each other. The ghosts approached from both sides,cutting off their path to the chains. Lucy failed with the net for a second,then dropped it and drew her rapier.She could make out the second ghost more clearly now. A man, lean and probablyyoung. He wore rider’s slacks and a worn jacket. A bloodstain bloomed over hischest. She knew, instinctively, that this was the lover that woman had lost. Hemoved towards her – again with that strange feeling, as if the ectoplasmstriking at her was just him trying to help. But help with what? Lucy shook her head to clear it. The attacks were getting stronger, and the ghostsbrighter. Even Lockwood was tiring; she could hear his labored breathing behindher. “Iron filings on three,” he muttered, “one, two, three!”Lucy lobbed the largest canister from her belt and shielded her eyes asectoplasm fizzled everywhere. Then they rushed towards the vanity. “We need to find the second source,” Lockwood said, pulling out hisown silver net.But before he could use it, ectoplasm was swirling towards them again. Lockwoodwhipped out his rapier again. “How are they reforming so quickly?”“They’re determined,” Lucy said, flinging a salt bomb. But theectoplasm reformed almost as quickly as she destroyed it. “They think theycan… help us, somehow.”“What?”“I don’t know!” Lucy was fighting to stay calm. She’d backed intoLockwood again, trapped in a cocoon of ectoplasm. Words drifted through hermind in a jumble, both the ghosts’ voices melding together. So lonely… alone… death better…together… only together…“And in a flash, Lucy understood."Mr and Mrs Fulbright,” she said out loud, “that college couple.They weren’t attacked.”Lockwood’s voice was tense. “Lucy, maybe we should wonder over those later.”She ignored him, yelling at the ghosts, “we’re not alone! We’re together,look, there’s two of us.”The ectoplasm continued to press closer… but was it swirling a little slower,jabbing a little less aggressively? The voices floated through her mind again. Deathbetter… alone… no one… no one alone…

Lucy thought back to the vanity. She’d felt the depth of that woman’slove, the all-consuming pain of her heartbreak. Now that she and herhusband were reunited, in death, the purpose coming off the reanimated spirits wasclear – their need to make sure that no one ever faced that kind of lonelinessagain. Even if that meant killing to spare them the misery.Really, I’d rather have the misery, Lucy thought to herself as she cutward-knots through the air. The ghosts had renewed their attack.

On and on, she and Lockwood thrust and parried and flung canister aftercanister. Lucy’s mind whirled. How could they convince the ghosts they weren’tlonely? They’d lost the whole concept of self-sufficiency, believed you neededsomeone else to be happy.

“I’m out of iron.”

Lucy reached to her belt and found it empty as well. “I don’t supposeyou brought any flares?”

“We already have a burned house on our resumes. Figured we don’t need ahotel too.”

The ectoplasm was still closing in from all directions. Lucy’s arm feltleaden, and despite his incredible stamina Lockwood couldn’t be doing a lotbetter. “We’re not alone!” she tried again, but she could almost sense thedisbelief coming off the Cold Maidens. She needed to be more convincing.

Refusing to think about what she was doing, Lucy sheathed her rapier andspun to face Lockwood. He was still fighting. Taking a deep breath, she grippedhis shoulders and whirled him around to face her.

She took a millisecond to process the confusion on his face, thesurprise in his dark eyes, before grabbing his face and pressing her lips tohis.

For a moment he was rigid, rapier still clutched in one outstretchedhand. Lucy brushed her thumbs over his cheekbones and pressed against him moreinsistently. The rapier clattered to the floor, his mouth opened against hers,and his hands grasped her waist above her belt.

Everything melted away – the ghosts, the weight of her sword, the factthat she was his employee – and shekissed him deeper, losing herself in the softness of his lips and the subtle,familiar scent of his cologne.

She lost track of how long they stood there intertwined, but eventuallythey pulled apart for breath. For a moment they gazed into each other’s eyes –dark brown and hazel, open and raw and asking – and then Lucy came to hersenses, stumbling back and whipping her hands to herself. Suddenly it wasimpossible to look at him.

The Visitors had disappeared, except for a few scattered flecks ofectoplasm shimmering here and there. Lucy pointedly went through all themotions, retrieving her net and sealing the vanity. Lockwood went through the drawersand found an old, monogrammed pen, the Source of the second ghost. Lucy wascareful not to touch his fingers as she passed him a silverglass case for it.The silence and awkwardness weighed on them throughout their packing and thetaxi ride home. It was only as they walked up Portland Row that theexplanations came tumbling out of Lucy.

“Those ghosts, they were killing all the single people staying in thehotel and leaving all the couples alone. To them, a life alone seemed basicallyworse than death. They thought they were helping, but they were going to killus.” She still couldn’t meet his eyes, even as they walked up the front stairs.“I- well, I had to convince them that we were a couple, so they’d leave usalone. I’m sorry.”

Lockwood shut the door behind them, and then deftly stepped in front ofher. She was forced to meet his gaze. He was smiling, but it wasn’t thegigawatt. Just the automated imitation he used in awkward conversations. “Don’tworry about it, Luce. You did what had to be done, and just in the nick oftime, as always. It quieted the ghosts, we sealed the sources, and the case isclosed.”

Lucy nodded, her throat feeling oddly tight. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it.”

Lockwood hung up his coat, elegant and composed as always. Beforewalking down the hall, he turned to her again. “All the same, let’s avoidmentioning this to George, shall we?”

“What are we not mentioning to me?”

On the table beside the door, the skull cackled in amusement.

I’d love your feedback, reactions, and thoughts, positive or negative. Don’t hesitate to let me know – it really makes my day :)