The Daring Blade

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/60914641.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandoms: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud, Lockwood & Co. (TV)
Relationships: Lucy Carlyle/Anthony Lockwood, Flo Bones/George Cubbins | George
Karim
Characters: Lucy Carlyle, Anthony Lockwood, George Cubbins | George Karim,
Holly Munro, Montagu Barnes, The Skull (Lockwood & Co.)
Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, First Kiss, First Time, Kinks, Smut, Oral
Sex, Vaginal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk, Post-Book 05:
The Empty Grave (Lockwood & Co.), Spoilers for Book 05: The Empty
Grave (Lockwood & Co.), Post-Canon, Idiots in Love, POV Lucy
Carlyle, Oblivious Lucy Carlyle, Oblivious Anthony Lockwood, Minor
Flo Bones/George Cubbins | George Karim, Lucy Carlyle & Holly
Munro Bonding, Lesbian Holly Munro, Minor Holly Munro/Holly
Munro's Girlfriend, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May
Change, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-11-28 Updated: 2025-01-27 Words: 38,643 Chapters:
11/?
 The Daring Blade
by DistressingDamsel27

Summary

More than a year after the fall of Fittes House, Lockwood and Co. has achieved the goal of
being the top agency in London. The biggest problem facing Lucy is figuring out what on
earth Lockwood actually wants. Or so she thinks.

Among the agency’s many talents has always been the ability to unearth new enemies. And in
a London where the dead can’t be trusted to stay dead, can they really afford to believe that
the enemies from Fittes House are truly gone?

Notes

Fittes House fiasco happened mid to late Fall. This fic begins in December the following
year.

For the purposes of this fic, I am working with the timeline that Lucy was close to 15 and
Lockwood is just a bit older at the start of The Screaming Staircase. The books span about
2.5 years, and this fic is set over a year after the books, so the main characters are over 18.

This fic is mostly book based (with a few show references.)

Since it is post-canon there will be spoilers.
 Chapter 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

I flopped face down onto the bed and groaned. Tonight had been brutal. At least I wasn’t
bleeding or coated in unmentionable substances any longer. Thank god for my tiny shower in
the attic. If I’d had to wait for anyone before I got a turn, I might have mutinied. I hadn’t
missed the frenzied rounds of rock paper scissors that Lockwood and George had been
playing in the cab. I swear, the next time a case required wading through a sewer, I was going
to come down with a very sudden and convincing case of the flu.

Holly, of course, had avoided the whole thing. Somehow, her nights off always seemed to
coincide with the messiest cases. Since her field duties were largely supportive, she had far
more nights off than the rest of us. Not that I would usually trade her. Holly always arrived at
Portland Row to start her day hours before I was awake to begin the daunting task of cleaning
up the aftermath of our cases, so it was hard to hold it against her.

I shuddered, very grateful that Holly would be the one taking care of the laundry from
tonight. Tomorrow was actually a laundry day, too. I could tell because I was down to
pyjamas that were the slightest bit too small and getting threadbare. Sure, I was showing a bit
of ankle, and I sometimes caught a draught around the waist, but this wasn’t the 1800s.
George and Lockwood would survive me showing a little extra skin.

Honestly, of all the things Holly handled for the agency, the laundry was easily the thing that
I was most grateful for. I used to insist upon doing all of mine myself, horrified that one of
the boys would be stuck folding my knickers, and then I had been convinced that Holly was
judging me for every little snag and stain. Now that we understood each other better, I was
happy to put the task in her capable hands. Since she had taken it on, I didn’t have to worry
about forgetting my clothes in the dryer. She also had a knack for removing stains that I had
never mastered and folded my things far more neatly than I ever had the patience for. My
clothes had never looked better.

I was actually a bit suspicious that Holly had been replacing my rattiest pieces with new
items. That, or she had been plying her needle on my poor clothes. It was certainly interesting
to not have growing holes in most of my things. The life of an agent was not kind to clothes,
and I had long ago given up trying to look pristine. Functional with a side of not entirely
embarrassing was typically my aim. Holly had other ideas.

Even George was looking less sloppy these days, and I would have bet money that such a
thing was impossible. Of course, when I had mentioned it months ago, Holly had gone into
raptures about the new laundry detergent she was trying, or the latest ectoplasm removal
technique she had learned from a magazine, until I lost track of what I had been trying to ask
in the first place.

At least I could appreciate now how much easier things were with Holly in charge of the
household. At first, we had butted heads. I was convinced that she was trying to make me
look bad and resented everything she tried to do. Now, finally accepting her role in the
agency, I could acknowledge that Lockwood had been right to hire her. Our heart to heart in
Aickmere’s had been a beginning, but I liked to think that we had both worked hard to get to
our current levels of camaraderie.

We had talked about what we admired about the other and, more importantly, what drove us
each round the bend. Holly now tried to offer everyone her health food equally so that I
didn’t feel attacked over my figure. We also had a cleaning schedule so that I knew when to
expect her to be in my attic. On my end, we had narrowed it down to my apparent lack of
care for myself. When I explained to her that I tended to pile my clothes on the chair because
hangers simply didn’t fit in the tiny armoire, she had bullied Lockwood into buying a new
one, and then George and Lockwood into moving it up two flights of stairs. She also sweet-
talked them into moving the old one down three flights so that she could use it for storage in
the basement.

Having a place to actually hang my clothes made a huge difference. Not having to go through
four different outfit changes because I found a new hole in an inconvenient spot made an
even bigger one. This was not to say that my attic was suddenly spotless. I still had stacks of
books and magazines, bottles of nail polish, and of course the skull scattered about, but I
could spend ten minutes tidying and Holly would be able to vacuum and dust to her heart’s
content without giving either of us conniptions.

Holly had also insisted on helping me to select new shampoo and conditioners, and she kept
me up to date with proper haircuts from a stylist that was used to agents. She had insisted that
with the right products and cut, my hair could look great even without spending time on it,
and I had to say she was right. I spent the same amount of time on my hair that I always had,
none, but it was now much better behaved. Of course, almost anything was probably better
than trying to cut it myself in the cramped space of my loo, and using the cheapest products I
could find. I had not told Holly this. I let her keep on with her assumption that I simply
hadn’t had the time to find a good stylist in London.

All of this was to say that I thought that I looked better and felt more confident in my
appearance than I ever had since I started at Lockwood and Co., and yet I felt like Lockwood
looked at me less than ever. He wasn’t giving me the cold shoulder, and he hadn’t tried to
shut me out, but he always seemed to be looking just to my right, or at a spot above my head.
Sometimes, like tonight when I was so coated in filth I felt unrecognisable, he would look me
in the eye when he gave me one of the smiles that had always seemed reserved for me alone.

At first I thought that perhaps me being too tidy made him uncomfortable. Sure, Lockwood
had always been careful about his appearance, but Flo and George were the other people
closest to him, and they certainly didn’t care about personal hygiene. Except he didn’t seem
to have an issue looking straight at prim and proper Holly. It was honestly driving me a bit
mad.

A bit of laughter from downstairs brought me back to the present. The boys sounded like they
were done with their showers and I knew they would be expecting me to come down for post
case cocoa and crisps. I also needed to carry my laundry down to the basement so that it
would be ready for Holly in the morning. Of course, I wouldn’t blame her if she made the
executive decision to chuck it all in the bin given the state of our clothes from tonight.
Lockwood’s coat was hopefully salvageable, but that was only because he had left it behind
for once after we opened the manhole and caught a whiff of what awaited us.

I had got distracted again. I really didn’t want to go down and have Anthony bloody
Lockwood smile in my general direction and enthuse over my actions tonight while staring
three inches to my left. I just wanted to bask in the warmth that was the memory of him
actually smiling at me at the end of the case.

If I didn’t go down soon, though, one of them was liable to come up to check on me. I rolled
over and stared at the ceiling before I groaned, leveraged myself up off the bed, gingerly
grabbed the dirty clothes, and headed downstairs to the basement.

I made it back into the kitchen just as Lockwood was settling in at the table. George was still
puttering around, setting out the steaming cups of cocoa and bags of crisps. Lockwood smiled
at me, but then immediately stood up and strode over to the stove. I noticed that he was
flushed. It surprised me that there had been enough hot water left to take a shower that hot
since I knew he had lost the first shower slot to George.

George set down the last of the cocoa mugs and collapsed into his chair. “I thought that being
the most famous functioning agency would mean fewer awful cases. Instead, there seem to be
more,” he moaned into his teacup.

“Now, George, don’t be like that,” Lockwood chirped, finally sitting back down. “We haven’t
had to waste our time on Shades, Stone Knockers, or even Mrs Smithers’ neighbourhood cats
in months. The quality of cases has really gone up, even if some of the locations are less than
glamorous.”

“To be fair Lockwood, I don’t think anyone has been dealing with most of the old Type Ones
lately. It’s great that most of the weaker ghosts have faded, but it does mean we can’t really
catch our breath with any easy cases,” George pointed out.

Lockwood frowned. “Really? I know we saw an initial drop in weaker manifestations, but
they’ve all phased out now?”

“Barnes mentioned something the other day,” I chimed in. “Something about how it was
really fortunate that overall activity was down with the state of Fittes and Rotwell.”
Lockwood’s frown deepened and I hurried to add, “He also said that he was sending all of the
trickier ones our way since we could, and I quote ‘probably manage to survive them better
than any of the other teams.’ That’s high praise coming from Barnes.” I did not see fit to
include Barnes’ quip about our survival abilities currently outweighing our likelihood of
burning anything down.

Lockwood’s lips quirked up slightly. “Well, I was hoping that the difficulty of our recent
cases was more reflective of recognition from the public, but I suppose an acknowledgement
from Barnes is pretty impressive.”

“He has been giving us a lot of referrals,” George mused. “Maybe I can have Holly run the
numbers of how many cases we are bringing in on our own versus how many are being
 handed down from DEPRAC. It might give us a clearer idea of how to compare this to past
winters.”

George started to mutter to himself and jot down notes on the Thinking Cloth, so I turned
back to Lockwood. “We’ve got plenty of public recognition. All the recent polls have us at
number one, except for London Society, and you know that’s just because their editor is
married to Mr Bunchurch’s replacement. I know we haven’t made the papers in a dedicated
article in weeks, but they’ve still been covering the collapse of Fittes, and we’re always at
least mentioned in those. They keep reusing that photo of you staring into the distance,
haloed by the fires of the Fittes Building. You know, the one where you were falling asleep
on your feet but some photographer managed to catch you looking all poetically heroic.” I
trailed off. Lockwood was smiling past my ear and looking flushed again. “Are you okay?”

“Of course. I’m wonderful,” Lockwood was a bit too quick to reassure me.

I looked at him. “You’re looking awfully flushed. Are you sure you didn’t catch something
the other night? I know you said you were fine, but that pond must have been freezing.”

“I’m fine, Luce. It’s probably just the tea warming me up from my cold shower. We really do
need to consider putting in a bigger water heater if we’re going to keep getting put on cases
that require such rapid-fire showers for everyone.”

“But I thought, never mind.” I was sure that Lockwood had been flushed earlier, fresh out of
the shower, but I didn’t feel like pushing it at four in the morning. If he was sick tomorrow, I
was going to tease him mercilessly for ending up in the pond two nights ago. Of course, he
claimed he had only done that keeping me out of the pond, so I’d also be plying him with tea
and blankets if he came down with something, but the earth would stop spinning before I
missed the chance to give Lockwood shit for his misplaced chivalry.

I finished my cocoa and took the mug to the sink. I stretched and turned around to say
goodnight, pulling down on the hem of my shirt, which had ridden up. George was still
muttering to himself. Lockwood looked even more flushed and was staring at the opposite
corner of the kitchen. Suddenly, I was exhausted. “Goodnight,” I headed upstairs. I barely
heard Lockwood’s reply, and I assumed that George had simply waved.

Maybe tomorrow I could talk to Holly. See if she had any ideas about Lockwood’s behaviour.
It might be embarrassing, but I was starting to get a bit desperate. Surely it would be less
embarrassing than asking George. With three brothers, he may have experience dealing with
boys, but he didn’t have Holly’s people skills.

Chapter End Notes

This is my first posted fanfic, so your comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!
I have about 30k of this done, including a few later scenes, so I'll be posting several
chapters initially, but then slowing down on the posting.

The smut will start pretty tame and ramp up as their relationship progresses. Since the
fic is currently incomplete, I started with some tags based on scenes already written and
will add as needed. There should not be any noncon.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Summary

The agency books a new case, but Lucy can't focus.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The next morning, I woke up around ten o’clock. If I hurried, I could get ready and eat a
proper breakfast before client meetings started at eleven. One perk of the recent full
bookings, we kept somewhat regular “office hours” to interview clients. Before Holly, things
had been more haphazard, but Holly was good at convincing clients to stick to the scheduled
time slots instead of us bending to their schedules as had been our wont. I didn’t think I’d
ever understand how she managed to convince people that we were doing them a favour by
agreeing to meet them at hours only convenient to agents, but I was thankful.

Thinking of Holly, I remembered my thought from last night. Perhaps if I really rushed, I
could catch her before the boys made it to the kitchen. Having a new goal, I hurriedly got
dressed and ran a brush through my hair. I ran down the stairs, excited that I was running
about twenty minutes earlier than usual, but found myself coming to a stop just outside the
kitchen. I could hear Holly’s cheerful tones replying to Lockwood’s deeper inquiries.

I slumped against the wall for a moment before rallying and stepping into the kitchen with a
smile. “Good morning, Holly. Morning, Lockwood.” I looked over to the table to see a mug
of tea and a plate at my spot. Lockwood was buttering a piece of toast and turned around to
place it on my plate. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Lucy.” Lockwood smiled in my general direction as he stepped back to the
counter. He still looked a bit flushed, but better than last night, so maybe he had been right
that he was fine.

I stared into my tea, took a bite of my toast, perfect as usual, and tried to remind myself that I
could always try to catch Holly later. Maybe I could suggest an errand that would get the two
of us out of the house this afternoon.

“Hey, Holly. What’s on the docket for clients today?” Lockwood sat down with his own toast.

“Well, first is Mr Jones. We think from his description that he might have a Screaming
Maiden in his backyard. After that is one DEPRAC handed over, a Mrs Lyle. They didn’t
send over much, but it could be a Shining Boy. I’ll have to check the casebook for the rest.
I’m a bit behind this morning. The laundry has been,” she paused delicately, “challenging
today.”
“Oh goodness, Holly. I’m sure the boys and I would be okay with just pitching everything. I
wasn’t certain what was salvageable or I would have done it last night.” If I hadn’t got
distracted by my own thoughts, I might have left a note to that effect. I felt a bit bad about it.

“Okay. If you’re sure, I’ll take stock and run it by you all after this last soak is finished,”
Holly smiled.

“My coat’s all I care about, Hol, and we can always send it to the cleaner. I tried to keep it out
of the worst of it, but I know it got a bit, um, tainted. Just focus on having our work kits
ready for tonight,” Lockwood grinned at her.

My stomach lurched a bit. We were long past my suspicion of Holly’s interest in him, and he
certainly knew about her girlfriend, but I couldn’t help my jealousy at his apparent ease with
Holly. Not when he seemed so uncomfortable with me.

“Alright. Well, I suppose your coat from last week’s debacle should be ready to pick up
sometime today. I’ll swap them out at the cleaner’s later.”

I looked up from picking at my toast. “That’s over by Pitkins’, right? We should stop by and
grab our weekly order. Save their delivery girl the trouble. Would it be alright if I came along
to help carry things, Holly? I’d love to get some sunshine.” I hoped that my question came
across as natural, but I wasn’t sure I succeeded. Holly was certainly giving me a strange look.
I raised my eyebrows and added a bit of pleading to my expression.

“Of course, Lucy. I don’t mind if the boys don’t need you for something,” Holly said
tentatively, her eyes darting between Lockwood and me.

“Oh, no. That’s alright. I’m sure that George will need to go to the Archives, and I can make
the Satchell’s run while everyone’s out,” Lockwood reassured her.

“Sounds great.” I drained my mug and stood up. “I’ll just head to the study.”

I set my dishes in the sink and headed out the door with my head high. Even as I passed
through the doorway, I could hear Lockwood starting to talk to Holly, already sounding more
relaxed. My chest felt like I had a tight band around it. I breathed deep to try and dispel the
feeling and made my way to the study. Once upon a time I might have needed to scramble to
make the space presentable for the incoming clients, but Holly had already tidied everything,
so I sat down on the couch and fidgeted.

Finally, George sidled through the door. He was carrying the tea tray, loaded with cake and
tea, plus his morning doughnuts. I must have missed the delivery from Arrif’s in my funk. He
set it down and I started making myself another cup of tea. I didn’t really feel like drinking it
right now, but it was better than continuing to shred my cuticles. It was a bad habit that was
usually curbed by keeping my nails painted, but the stress lately had been getting to me. They
hadn’t looked this bad since the Black Winter I spent doing freelance work, and Holly was
sure to notice if I kept it up. Even though I planned to talk to her this afternoon, I was still
hoping to play it cool. I didn’t need my (lack of) manicure giving me away.

“Morning, George. Sleep well?”

“Eh,” he grunted. George tended to be a bit taciturn first thing in the morning. He was
possibly even less of a morning person than I was, and I considered our regular hours to be a
major perk of the job. I smiled at him. George still treated me normally, and I was thankful. It
provided some much needed stability.

“Reckon there’ll be anything interesting today?” George probably didn’t know anything more
than I did about today’s appointments, but sometimes he had a feel for the ebb and flow of
our cases. Somewhat surprisingly, given the hour, he made an effort to actually answer me.

“No. Nothing standout at least. Probably more of the same, by which I mean, we would have
been thrilled two years ago, but now it’s just going to be more of the same. I know
Lockwood’s happy with all of the difficult cases, but what I wouldn’t give for a good old
Lurker,” George sighed.

“I know what you mean, but at least we aren’t all being split up, since none of them are easy.
I’ll take this over the Black Winter any day.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’m just knackered. I never thought I’d see the day that I wanted a
break from the Archives. I’ve been going in even on our days off. Haven’t seen Flo in
weeks.”

I flinched, reminded that George and Flo’s relationship had blossomed in the last year, even
as Lockwood and I had foundered. I couldn’t even guess what had gone wrong. In the
aftermath of everything, I had thought we were on the same page. I’d thought we were
getting closer. But nothing had come of it, and now I had to count myself lucky to catch his
eye a few times a week. Had he decided that he only loved me like a sister? As a replacement
for Jessica? I thought back to all of his flushed cheeks. Was he embarrassed? What could he
possibly be embarrassed about unless he had decided that I obviously felt more for him than
he did for me? Did he regret giving me the blue necklace?

George cleared his throat. “Everything okay, Lucy? Only, you’ve been staring at that fertility
gourd like you want to light it on fire.”

I huffed. “Certainly not. I have no feelings at all towards that… gourd.” I cleared my throat
and attempted to look a bit more invested in my current company, startled to see that George
had already finished his tea and doughnuts. “Just tired I think. We got in quite late last night.”

“Hmm,” George hummed. “I suppose.”

The doorbell rang and I sloshed hot tea over my hand. I hurried to wipe it off on a throw
pillow and then turned it so that Holly and the client wouldn’t see the damp spot. I managed
to finish the manoeuvre just as Holly and Lockwood walked into the room with Mr Jones.

“Here we go Mr Jones. Tea? Cake? Ah yes, this is George Cubbins, Head of Research, and of
course Lucy Carlyle, the greatest Listener of our generation. We just have a few questions for
you before we can slot you into our schedule.” Lockwood was wearing his gigawatt smile
that he always put on for the clients. I sat up a bit straighter as Lockwood moved to sit next to
me on the couch.
Lockwood waited for Mr Jones to finish preparing his cup of tea before beginning our
standard round of questions. This also gave Holly time to get settled with the casebook on her
small lap desk at the other end of the couch.

“What can you tell us about the apparition, Mr Jones? Size, shape, general feel? Anything is
helpful,” Lockwood began.

“Well, I don’t really know.” Mr Jones took a long drink of tea and only years of practice
allowed me to hide my exasperation. Finally, he continued. “My daughter has complained for
years that she’s not comfortable playing in the backyard, even during the day. It started when
she was too young to really describe what she saw, and when she got older, she refused. We
had an agency come do a sweep that first year, but they didn’t find anything and nobody else
has ever had a problem, so we just got used to taking her to the park. Then, last week, she had
her first slumber party. She was so excited. But apparently they only wanted to come over
because some of the girls have been listening to some of that ghost cult nonsense. They’ve
known about Claudia’s fear of the backyard for years, and they wanted to hold some kind of
vigil. They convinced Claudia that if they communicated their good intentions to the spirit
that she wouldn’t need to be afraid anymore. So they sneaked onto the back porch, the
railings are all iron so it was at least somewhat safe, and vowed to stay up all night. My wife
and I never noticed. We just thought they’d all gone to bed early. Things were very quiet.
And then the screaming woke us up about one in the morning. The girls were all hysterical.
We got everyone back inside, but even hours later, none of them would give a clear account.
Silly chits.”

Lockwood frowned. “You said that you had an agency do a sweep. Do you remember which
agency? Maybe they would have something in their records that would be useful.”

It was Mr Jones’ turn to frown. “Agency, agency, ah yes. I remember now. It was Bunchurch.
They were giving a discount at the time. It was right as the young Mr Bunchurch was taking
over from his father.”

I coughed. Bunchurch was a joke amongst the better agencies. They were well known
because they were always running some kind of promotion that convinced people to give
them a try, but they also had some of the lowest success rates of any of the agencies. They
tended to employ agents that had flash, but little Talent.

After my freelance stint, I had even more reason than the rest of our company to hold them in
low regard. I once worked with a team that had missed the source for a week straight until
they brought me in. Then I’d been shocked when I detected the apparition right at dusk, while
the most sensitive members of their team had told me they never got anything until after
midnight. I’d wrapped the case up before eight o’clock, thus securing me a glowing review
from the supervisor and an even lower opinion than before of the bumbling agency. They’d
only stayed on the case so long instead of dismissing it per usual because the client was a
minor government figure.

It was no wonder the “sweep” had turned up nothing. The team had probably consisted of a
useless adult supervisor and kids who would have struggled to make the grade in the night-
watch. Who was I kidding? That was still a disservice to the night-watch kids.
Belatedly, I tuned back into the client interview. Lockwood was already wrapping up, and
Holly was looking through the planner she used to keep track of all our appointments. “Does
Tuesday next work?” she asked.

“But, but, are you sure there’s nothing to be done this week?” Mr Jones seemed upset that his
case wasn’t being given top priority. Thankfully, this was an area that Lockwood and Holly
had really mastered our customer service.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr Jones. As no one has currently been harmed, I’m afraid we cannot
move you ahead of the multiple cases we have from DEPRAC that involve visitors that are
proven aggressive,” Lockwood grinned at about half wattage.

“Mr Jones, it sounds like everything should be fine if you just keep everyone away from the
yard,” Holly’s smile was a bit more reassuring than Lockwood’s.

“Yes, well, but Claudia…”

“We would be happy to deliver some extra protections for Claudia this afternoon. We keep a
small inventory so you won’t even have to make any extra stops today. I know how stressful
it can be to add to one’s errands after you have the day planned out. I’ll get you set up with
our little catalogue, and we can get you on your way. Just call before two o’clock with your
selections, and Lucy and I should be able to bring them by while we are running our errands
this afternoon.” Holly looked at me with a slightly raised eyebrow, and I nodded.

“Of course. Anything to make our clients more comfortable.” I managed to smile awkwardly.
Usually I was not part of the reassuring the clients detail, but I must have done alright since
Mr Jones finally relaxed.

“Well, alright then. I suppose I’ll see you girls this afternoon and the rest of you next week.
Have to ask the missus what she thinks would be most reassuring,” Mr Jones continued to
mutter as Holly gathered a neatly printed sheet of our available items, and chivied him out
the door.

“Well,” Lockwood broke the silence, “this one does sound interesting. And there don’t seem
to be any sewers or ponds involved either. What do you think, George?”

“I think we’re going to be very glad of Lucy’s talents. It doesn’t sound like it has a stable
apparition, and you know that makes it harder for you to fight it, relying on your Sight as you
do. Lucy, I don’t suppose there’s been any sign of un-life from the skull. He always came in
handy on those cases where the Source was hidden particularly well.” George looked at me
hopefully.

I sighed. “Nothing. I know we’ve been hoping that it was just an effect of the time distortion
on the Other Side, that he’d make it back soon, but I’m starting to give up hope.” I slumped
into the couch.

“Come now, Luce. Can’t give up yet. Once we get some breathing room, maybe George will
have time to do some more research,” Lockwood said. I smiled tremblingly. His eyes briefly
met mine, and then he quickly looked away. I saw a flush climbing up the back of his neck,
 and then the doorbell rang again. “Well, I’ll just pop down and greet the next client, shall I?”
Lockwood stood and strode quickly from the room.

I slumped down in the couch. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter End Notes

Let me know what you think!

 Chapter 3
Chapter Summary

Holly has a plan.

Just as we were finishing up with the last client, the doorbell rang yet again. Holly, escorting
Mrs Jenkins out, called up for George. “Flo’s here!” she called, sounding slightly strained.
My guess was that Flo was once again tracking a significant portion of the Thames’
riverbank into the foyer. Holly liked Flo well enough, but she preferred to encounter her out
of the house. Her visits to Portland Row always triggered a fit of deep cleaning.

George disappeared for a few moments, and I studied Lockwood’s profile as he went over
Holly’s notes from the meeting. Just as I was gathering up my courage to say something,
George popped back into the doorway. “I’m going to head out early. Spend some time with
Flo before I head to the Archives. I’ve got my list for tonight’s cases. Anything else before I
head out?” George was blushing furiously.

Lockwood looked up with a teasing grin. “Nope. Make sure you and Flo have fun, George. I
know it’s been a while. Don’t get too distracted. We need you for tonight, so no getting
arrested for public indecency, yeah?”

George’s face was now the approximate shade of our industrial strength flares, flaming red.
He coughed. “Ah, yes, of course. See you about five o’clock,” he managed to choke out, and
then ran.

Holly appeared just as he left. Sure enough, she was holding a dustpan and looking frantic
around the eyes. “Ah, Lucy. I’ll just be a bit. Have to clean up from our guests after all. Why
don’t you get some rest and I’ll let you know when I’m ready to head out.”

A year ago, I would have taken that as a dig at me. That Holly was saying that I looked
haggard or incapable, or something else passive aggressive. Now, I knew it for what it was.
Holly wanted me out from underfoot while she frantically cleaned. “I could help. Put away
the tea tray and all.”

Her expression eased a bit. “Oh no. That’s alright. I’m not working tonight and you are. I can
handle it. It might give you some time to work on your memoir. I know you haven’t had as
much time for it lately as you’d like.”

“Alright,” I said. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get any writing done, but maybe I could
relax for a bit. I could always try to come up with how I was going to start my conversation
with Holly. “I’ll get out of your way.”
Public indecency. Lockwood’s words echoed through my head. I supposed I didn’t know
what the options were when you didn’t have an empty house to utilise. Surely George and Flo
weren’t out in her little row boat right now, but I had no idea of Flo’s other living
arrangements. My sisters used to bring home their beaus in the afternoon while our mam was
still at work. I’d never actually seen anything, they weren’t that stupid, but I wasn’t stupid
either. I’d still had ears, even if they always disappeared into the bedroom after the apparently
obligatory round of whispering, giggling, and stolen kisses. My sisters were none of them
subtle. I was an observant little girl. They might turn on the radio and close the door, but it
never covered up the sound of the creaking bed frame, or the gasps and moans. And there
was always a fresh set of sheets come bedtime. I suppose it was lucky for them that one of
my sisters was always in charge of the laundry. My mam said she did enough laundry at
work, she wasn’t doing it when she got home.

Certainly by the time I was 12, four of my six older sisters were gone and married off, most
of them started on their own broods. I was terrified of the idea of having a horde of children.
It was enough that I had started looking into birth control before I even started puberty. I
needed to know what worked, what didn’t, what was actually available in my small town. I
knew my mother wouldn’t agree to an additional “unnecessary” expense. Seven children born
to a loveless marriage and then three of my sisters’ rushed marriages attested to that. And
then it had turned out that I needn’t have worried. Agent’s insurance covered it. Insisted on it,
really. It had taken me a while to get used to some of the side effects, but it really was quite
handy for jobs that I could manipulate when I started my courses, and best of all, I was
reassured that I would not have the burden of an unexpected child just because of an accident
or carelessness.

I rolled over and hugged my pillow. I had never needed to test its effectiveness. Norrie and I
may have giggled about boys while staked out on cases, but none of the village boys really
caught my fancy, and anyway, I must not have caught theirs either. Norrie used to say that I
just intimidated everyone, with my Talent and drive, not to mention the rapier I always
carried at my hip. Personally, I thought it more likely that I just wasn’t girly enough, or
cutesy enough, to make up for my lack of prettiness. Striking was probably the kindest
adjective I used to apply to myself. But things had seemed different since I came to London.
Even Kipps had once asked me for coffee.

Unfortunately, I was stuck. Stuck on a boy that infuriated as much as he inspired me. How
many times had my breath caught out on a case, just watching Lockwood throw himself into
danger alongside me? How often had he effortlessly melted my irritation with a soft look and
a perfectly made cup of tea? At this rate, I was never going to even kiss a boy. If I was lucky,
Lockwood would let me continue to live in the attic while he looked just past me and married
someone perfect and started his own brood of children, and then I’d be relegated to maiden
aunt status. His sister in everything but name.

Maybe it was time I found someone to at least try to date. Not that I had the time right now,
but maybe if I talked to Holly, she’d know where I should start. After all, if I could stop
pining after Lockwood, maybe he’d start to feel more comfortable around me again. I
mourned the idea of going on dates with Lockwood. Kissing him. But even going back to
what we used to have had to be better than continuing on like this, with my heart aching
every time he averted his eyes from my face.

In the end, the foyer was once again spotless, and Holly was only slightly behind schedule by
the time we left. I shut the front door behind us, loaded Mr Jones’ order into the boot, and
climbed into the taxi after Holly. “Alright then,” Holly smiled. “What’s this really about,
Lucy?”

I startled. “What? What do you mean? Just thought it’d be nice to get out.” My efforts at
nonchalance were already up in smoke.

Holly sighed. “Lucy, you never volunteer to run errands with me. I know you don’t really
mind it when you get roped into it, but you never just volunteer. You’ve seemed like you had
something on your mind lately. Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

I leaned my head back on the headrest. “Sorry, Hol. Yeah. There was something. How did
you meet your girlfriend?”

It was Holly’s turn to be surprised. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she stared at
me. “Why, um, why are you asking?”

I sat back up and turned to face her. “Oh shoot. I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. That was
really rude, and I’m sure it seemed random.”

Holly interrupted me with a hand on my arm. “Lucy. It’s okay. I trust you. I’m just confused.
You’ve never asked me anything about Susan.”

I groaned. “Oh gods, Holly. I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible friend. I just, I was hoping you had
some idea of how I could start meeting new people. People that I might be interested in
dating.”

If Holly had looked surprised before, now she looked shocked. “Lucy, why would you be
looking for someone to date?”

“Isn’t that something that people our age do? Date? You’re dating. George is dating. I’d like
to try dating someone for once in my life.”

“But Lucy, what about…Lucy, I thought you and Lockwood…”

I tried to laugh, but felt the tears start. Holly’s expression shifted to one of alarm. She leaned
up and spoke through the partition. “Can you take us to Rose’s Patisserie instead? It should
be just a few blocks away from the original destination.” She shut the partition and turned
back to me, taking my hand. “Just breathe. We’ll be there in a few moments and then we can
figure this out. It’ll be okay. Whatever’s wrong, we’ll sort it.” She tried to smile. “I’ve been
meaning to introduce you to this cafe. They have the most delicious whole wheat vegan pain
au chocolate, and I’m sure the regular version is wonderful too. Ah. Here we are. Lucy, you
just grab our bag from the boot and I’ll pay the driver.”
I wiped my eyes and got out to do as she said, then awkwardly followed her into the little
shop. I breathed deeply and tried to find some calm. It really did smell tempting. Holly
placed our order, and we found a secluded table in the back. We set down all of our things,
and Holly turned to me again. “Now, I think it’s best you start at the beginning. I know
you’ve liked Lockwood for ages. I thought you two were making progress towards, well,
something. Has he said something to upset you?”

So I started at the beginning. How I’d thought that we had at least had a chance, but how
Lockwood couldn’t seem to look me in the eye anymore. How he kept blushing when I tried
to catch his eye. How he couldn’t seem to handle being in the same room as me when I’d
tried wearing the blue necklace Lockwood had told me meant “undying devotion” to his
parents, so I had stuffed it at the back of my closet. I told her my newest theory that he had
decided he only thought of me as his sister and was embarrassed by my obvious feelings, so
the obvious solution was to start trying to date other people so he would go back to normal.
Somewhere around her second no fat matcha latte, she started to smile. By the end of my tale
of woe, she was downright grinning. I stared down at my shredded pastry and tried not to cry
again. “Well, I’m glad someone thinks it’s funny.”

Holly reached out and stopped my nervous fidgeting. “Oh, Lucy. I don’t think it’s funny,
really. I just think that you are,” she paused, “misinterpreting things. No. Listen for just a
minute. You can only see Lockwood when you are looking at him. You can’t see the way he
looks at you when you aren’t looking.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Gee, thanks for that really unhelpful statement. What’s next? I can’t
taste my pastry if I don’t eat it?”

Holly frowned. “I’m really not trying to be obtuse. Lucy, have you talked to Lockwood? Like
really talked to him? About any of this?”

I slumped a bit further in my chair. “No.” I poked at my plate. “What’s there to say?”

Now Holly groaned. “Lucy. You have to communicate. If you ever want to have a
relationship, that’s the first thing! Lockwood stares at you constantly when you are not
looking. Then, as soon as you turn to look at him, he blushes and can’t look you in the eyes.
This is all day every day behaviour. I know, because Kipps, George, and I frequently talk
about how much you are both driving us nuts. I believe that the boys even have a bet on
about if things will be more or less bearable once you two figure things out. Not to mention
the bet about when you two will finally start dating.”

I shook off my consternation at news of a betting pool on my relationships and focused on

what was important from that statement. “But, why? Why would he be staring at me?”

“Lucy.” I could almost see her restraining herself from facepalming. “Lockwood likes you.
And not as a sister. Have you not seen his reactions anytime another man seems to be paying
you a bit too much attention? Kipps barely headed him off from pulling his rapier on that boy
at the furnaces last week.”

“What are you talking about? John? He was just asking about that unusual source we took in.
Lockwood didn’t even notice.”
“This is what I’m talking about, Lucy. He noticed. He very much noticed.”

“Well, it still doesn’t mean he likes me. I’m sure he would have been protective of Jessica,
too.”

Holly cast her eyes heavenward, took a deep breath, and looked at me sternly. “Okay. I can
see that I’m not going to get through to you in an afternoon, and we do need to get going, but
this discussion is not done. And I don’t want to hear you asking about looking for other
potential boys in some misguided act of desperation, or martyrdom, or whatever this was. Do
you want to give Lockwood a heart attack?”

“Fine,” I pouted. “It’s not like I have any time right now, anyway.”

Holly stood up and gathered her share of our items. “It really will be okay, Lucy. I promise.
Now, let’s finish our errands so we can get back to Portland Row. I have some rearranging to
do for next week’s schedule.”

On Saturday, Holly made a bid to drag me out of the house again. “I saw the most darling
jumper at the store the other day. It’s just your colour.”

“Oh. No. That’s okay, Holly. I have rapier drills to do, and I need to stock my kit before
tonight.”

“You should go,” Lockwood said absentmindedly. He was going through the newest Satchells
catalogue, and didn’t look up. “Your rapier work has been looking really sharp, and George
or I can just take care of your kit when we do ours. More salt bombs and iron filings, right?”

“Yeah.” I hadn’t realised that Lockwood was paying that much attention to what I used the
night before. “Well, if you’re sure.”

“Of course. You girls have fun.” He waved as we left the kitchen, still not looking up from
the catalogue.

Holly barely gave me time to grab my purse before we were out the door. We spent the rest of
the afternoon shopping, getting our hair and nails done, and just doing all of the really girly
things I never found the time for. I was a bit confused, but it was hard to tell Holly no,
especially when she insisted on footing the bill for everything. Throughout all of it, Holly
kept alternating between questions about my time at the agency before she started, and
general pep talks about how amazing I looked. I didn’t think I’d ever seen someone gushing
before, but here Holly was, gushing over the nail colour I had picked, or my new trim (that
looked exactly like my old one as far as I could tell). I swear she went into raptures over the
new jumper when I tried it on, and then ran out into the store to grab a new skirt and tights,
too. And she was right. I did love the jumper she showed me, and she claimed that the skirt
was made of a fabric that was more resistant to ectoplasm stains. I’m not sure what the
difference is between lyocell, polyester, and rayon, but Holly seemed convinced. She had to
encourage me, but I bought it all in the end.

“I’ll throw it all in the wash and it should be ready by Tuesday! And you simply must dig out
that blue necklace, no don’t frown at me Lucy, it will go perfectly with this jumper. It would
be a crime not to wear them together.” Suddenly, she spun back to where I had stopped on the
sidewalk. Holly gentled her tone. “Lucy, do you trust me?”

“Of course, Holly! You know I do, it’s just, it’s one thing to trust you’ve got my back in a
haunted house. It’s another to trust you that I’m entirely wrong about Lockwood. I don’t want
to make things worse!” I frowned, clutching my bags a bit tighter.

“I know. But you are the bravest girl I’ve ever met. You can do this. All you need to do is
wear this new outfit with that stunning necklace on Tuesday, and trust me. Okay?"

And if my responding smile was a bit wobbly, neither of us mentioned it.

Tuesday, I got ready per Holly’s directions. The jumper was not the same shade of blue as the
necklace; it was a much deeper colour, and I found that Holly was right. It did go well. The
darker colour of the jumper set off the blue of the stone, making it seem even brighter and the
sparkle more pronounced. I was pretty happy with how I looked when I checked in the mirror
in the attic. My smile dimmed a bit when the skull didn’t make an appearance to razz me
about my extra efforts. I’d got so used to his snide comments whenever I tried to dress up that
I actually missed it. Him vocalising my insecurities had somehow had the (surely
unintentional) effect of making me hear how ridiculous they were. But Holly had handpicked
this outfit, and if there was anyone I could trust to dress me well, it was Holly.

Lockwood, per my prediction, hadn’t looked at me all day. He also kept blushing whenever I
tried to say anything to him, whatever that meant. Holly kept smiling at me and waggling her
eyebrows. How she managed to do so while still looking elegant, I’ll never know. I’m certain
I would have looked like a demented squirrel. George, bless him, had simply commented,
“Nice necklace, Lucy. Haven’t seen it in a while,” and proceeded to treat me entirely
normally, all while ignoring whatever was going on with Lockwood. I grit my teeth and bore
it. I had promised to do things Holly’s way for this one day. Maybe tomorrow, after this
fiasco was over, she would be more willing to listen to my interpretation.

And then I found out what Holly meant when she said she was going to do some rearranging.
 Chapter 4
Chapter Summary

Lockwood and Lucy head out on a case.

The Night Cab was running a bit late, so all five of us were standing in the foyer when not
one, but two cabs pulled up to the curb.

“Oh, must have been a mix-up. I’ll go sort it.” Lockwood was already turning the doorknob
when Holly interrupted him.

“Oh. No mix-up. We needed one for each of the teams. The cases aren’t exactly near each
other,” she laughed lightly. I suddenly had a roiling feeling in my gut.

“Teams? But you loaded my kit with the extra chains I always take for Lucy.” It was part of
our new protocol. Anyone backing me up carried extra chains in case they needed to throw a
circle around me when talking with a ghost didn’t go well.

“Well, of course. You and Lucy are going to Mr Jones’ and Kipps, George, and I are heading
over to handle Mrs Jenkins. When she phoned earlier, she was quite insistent that the feeling
of malice had increased. Her twins were apparently in hysterics. The boys and I talked and
agreed that we could handle it if we all look out for one another.”

Unseen by Lockwood, Kipps winked at me before he slipped out the door to talk to the
drivers. Oh god. There hadn’t been a phone call from Mrs Jenkins. Holly had contrived for
Lockwood and me to be on a case alone together. It had been a long time. On the few
occasions that we had split up the group recently, Lockwood and I were always on separate
teams. As the strongest two, we were paired off with the others to balance things out.
Tonight, Holly had ignored this arrangement, and deliberately put us together. Alone.

“No, really,” Holly was reassuring Lockwood. “It will be fine. Kipps and George both agree
that we’ll be okay, and you two really are the best pair to go to Mr Jones’. You’ll need Lucy’s
Listening, and Lockwood, you’re the only one strong enough to provide support on your own
against a strong visitor. I packed you both extra magnesium flares. It’ll be safe to use them
since you’ll be out of doors.”

“Well, if you say so, but you’re to leave if things go south. Lucy or I can always go back with
another team.” Lockwood grinned. “What do you say, Luce? It’ll be like old times.”

I felt my stomach lurch, even if he wasn’t quite looking at me. “Always. Ready then?”

“Of course.” As Lockwood turned away, Holly winked at me and I stifled a groan. Of course.
She was expecting me to try to talk to Lockwood. All of her careful manoeuvring suddenly
made a lot of sense.

The cab ride to Mr Jones’ was tense. Strike that, tense was an understatement. I could not
figure out anything to say, and Lockwood couldn’t seem to get a word out. I swear I saw him
choke on air. He wouldn’t even look in my general direction. So far, it looked like Holly’s
plan was backfiring, but I just had to get through the night, and anyway, there wasn’t much I
could do about it now. It’s not like I carried an extra set of clothes in my kit bag, and that
dratted necklace was safest right where it was, around my neck. I zipped up my jacket. It was
barely cold enough to justify it, but maybe the haunting would help me out there.

I got out of the cab and collected the bags from the boot, heading to the fence while
Lockwood paid the driver. The house was on a corner lot. The old, rusted iron gate was on
the long south edge of the yard, the house off to our right. As always, I used all of my senses
to get a feel for the area, taking an initial assessment.

Lockwood stepped up beside me. “Get anything?”

I took a deep breath. We’d be able to get through this. Lockwood was nothing if not
professional on a case, and it was dark. New moon dark, and the Jones’ had left all of the
lights off per our request. I couldn’t tell yet if the jacket had made a difference, but maybe
he’d find it easier to be around me if he couldn’t see me as well.

“Just a low hum. But there’s also an intense feeling of anger? Sadness? It’s all mixed up. I
don’t like it. And it’s strong, even this early and surrounded by the iron fence.”

“Anything from the skull?” Lockwood was always careful to ask, knowing that I would have
his source safely tucked in my bag.

“No. Nothing.”

“Well, okay then. Let’s start taking readings in the yard.”

We stepped through the gate and looked around. Once our eyes adjusted, there was just
enough lamplight from the street on the western edge to make out some details.

“See any death glows?” I asked.

“Several.” I took a quick breath in anticipation. “But none of them are human sized,” he
continued, and I blew out my breath. “There must be a very active cat in the neighbourhood.
Maybe more than one. It’s nice and wild back here. Plenty of good places for small animals
to live. Just look at the size of that hydrangea bush. And are those lilacs up by the house?”

“How on earth do you know that’s a hydrangea? Or lilacs? They don’t even have any leaves.”
I was slightly miffed that he had almost managed to startle me already.

“Mmm. There’s a lilac in the backyard. The one with purple flowers that are really smelly in
the back corner? But hydrangeas were my mother’s favourite. Specifically the blue ones,
though she liked all of the colours. We used to have one of those, too. Unfortunately, Jessica
didn’t inherit our mother’s green thumb, and we managed to kill it after a few years. Funnily
enough, all of the plants we didn’t mess with survived. I don’t remember Jess crying when
our parents died, but I remember her crying when we had to have the hydrangea bush dug
out.” He said all of this nonchalantly. Like he shared such details with me all the time. Which
he so didn’t.

I shook off my surprise. Best not to make a big deal of it. “Well then. Perhaps if we do well
on this case, we can ask Mr Jones for a cutting come spring. I’m pretty sure I remember how
to start a new plant from a decent cutting. My mother never paid for a plant, but she’d take
cuttings in return for small jobs, and she always made us girls take care of them. Mary was
always better at it, but I think hydrangeas are pretty hardy once you get them planted
outside.” Honestly, I’d have to dig up some gardening magazines to refresh my memory. I
hadn’t helped with that chore since I joined Jacobs’ agency at eight years old. For Lockwood
though, I’d do it. He had so little of his family, giving him back something beautiful would be
worth whatever effort it took.

“Do,” he faltered and cleared his throat. “Do you think we could get one to grow at the
cemetery?”

“I’ll look into it. Check what kind of sunlight they need, all that. If there’s a good spot, I
could help you plant one in the spring. If you want.”

“I’d like that. Thanks, Luce.” Lockwood’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and I glanced
over at him to catch him gazing at me. It was my turn to blush, and I looked away quickly.

“Well,” I coughed. “Best get started if we want to ask for that extra favour from Mr Jones. Do
you want to set up a main circle here? Or should we scout things out first?”

“Let’s go ahead and set up a chain circle here. It seems pretty calm, and it’s fairly central, at
least along this edge.”

We worked together smoothly to set out the chain. It would be a cosy fit for two, but we’d
manage if we needed to use it.

I closed my eyes and focused inward, then sent that awareness out. Was that laughter? Or
crying? I frowned and tried to pinpoint it. Frustratingly, the noise cut out entirely. My eyes
blinked as I refocused on Lockwood. He had drawn his rapier and held it casually.

“I think we should make the rounds, but I don’t want to be far apart. Sound okay?” It would
be slower than working in opposite directions, but I didn’t like what little I had heard. “Take
turns taking readings so the other can focus on defence.”

“Sure, Lucy. Not likely to ignore anything you’re getting, am I?” Lockwood smiled
crookedly.

“Okay. Perimeter first. I don’t fancy wading through the undergrowth unless we have to.” It
really was an appallingly overgrown yard, even in the early winter. They must not bother to
keep up any of the paths, since Claudia refused to set foot here. Maybe the plants looked
charming when they were in season, but just now it was a tangle of dead leaves, vines, and
branches. I had my doubts about Holly’s assertion that it would be safe to use magnesium
flares. We set out widdershins. This would put the back porch near the end of our round.
Since the girls had been there when they sensed the ghost, I thought there were good odds the
Source would be at that end of the yard.

As we made our way along the fence, we worked seamlessly, as we always had. Our
synchronisation seemed especially sensitive tonight, though. We were both focused and
professional, and if my focus was sometimes on Lockwood’s silhouette, or how his flop of
hair shaded his left eye, at least I was focused on him. He’d never know the difference.

“Alright there, Lucy? Something on my face?”

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t notice if I was a bit more discreet. I focused again on our
surroundings and noticed the garden hose on the back of the house. The spigot and hose were
covered in cobwebs. Either it hadn’t been used in years, possible, or there was a strong
Source in the area. I hadn’t noticed any in the yard, but wind and rain would have torn them
out of the bushes, so that wasn’t necessarily a good indicator. Still, I pointed it out to
Lockwood, and he nodded.

“Let’s finish up the perimeter. I think I’d like some tea.”

We moved into the chain circle to dig in our kit bags. Lockwood pulled out his thermos, I
pulled out the biscuits, and we stood close, sharing our mid-case snack. Needs must in a
small chain circle, so no milk and sugar, but the hot sips of Pitkins best were still reviving,
and Holly had packed some of the good shortbread.

“Okay, so did you get anything?”

“No. Just that possible glimmer over by the steps. I’m thinking George is right and this must
be some kind of Phantasm or Screaming Spirit. In which case, there won’t be much for me to
see. What did you get?”

“Well, it goes in and out. Sometimes it’s screaming, sometimes it’s hysterical laughter,
sometimes it’s soft sobbing. I don’t feel like any of it is the true haunting. It must be waiting
for something, or just for later. It’s just gone ten, so it’s got plenty of time. Honestly, I don’t
like it. It reminds me of Wythburn Mill back home. Or the Combe Carey monks. Even
though it’s not a changer, it has the same feel.”

“Alright, well, we’ll stay close. You’ll have to take point, just like George said, but I’ve got
your back. We’ll be fine.” Lockwood smiled reassuringly, the soft one just for me, and I was
relieved that he seemed to have relaxed a bit.

“Okay, well, you might hold off on the Greek Fire, since I’m pretty sure all of this dry
undergrowth would go up in a heartbeat.”

“You know me, always careful.”

I rolled my eyes, but I supposed our cases of mostly accidental arson were split fairly evenly
between us. “I think we should focus on the house end of the yard. Limit it to about fifteen or
twenty feet out from the back wall. It doesn’t seem nearly as strong at the far end, and there
were those webs right against the back.”

“Sounds good. Just let me know what you need.”

We packed away the thermos and the remains of the biscuits, checked over our pouches, and
stepped over the iron circle. Lockwood grimaced. “Miasma’s definitely increased. Have a
mint, Lucy?”

Stepping back into the circle, I dug through my rucksack. I kept spearmint in one of my
pouches, but Lockwood preferred peppermint. Might as well dig out the tin while I had a
moment. In the meantime, Lockwood had drawn his rapier, and gone on alert. Something
must have changed. Taking out a mint, I stuffed the tin in my jacket pocket and stepped out
next to Lockwood. “Should I draw my sword?” He shook his head. “Alright. Here’s your
mint.” He held out his hand and I gave it to him. “I’m not getting anything new. What did
you sense?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t new, exactly, it just felt like it moved, or focused in on us.”

“Do you think I should try to draw it out? Or should we just start looking?”

“You look. I think I’m going to stay on alert. Let me know if you hear anything different.”

“Will do.” I started working my way across the slice of yard we had decided upon. If we were
lucky, I’d find the source before the manifestation reached full strength. I followed the grid
system laid out in the Fittes Manual. Even if it had turned out that Marissa was barking mad,
there was still some good stuff in the Manual. This was one technique Lockwood and Co.
still followed. Lockwood stayed vigilant at my side. We didn’t talk much, and I was done
fairly quickly. We regrouped again in the chain circle.
 Chapter 5
Chapter Summary

Does it count as arson if no buildings were harmed?

“I just don’t know. I’m getting readings all up and down that line of bushes. What did you
call them, lilacs? But those are faint. They fade in and out. The main area I get something is
near this bench.” I pointed it out on my grid. “It’s close to the lilacs, sure, but it doesn’t feel
quite the same. Could there be more than one ghost? More than one Source?”

“Hmm. I wonder,” Lockwood trailed off. As infuriating as it was when he did this, I had got
used to it. He’d share when he was ready, and not before. “What about words? Anything
clear?”

“Something about ‘took them’ or ‘gone’ near the bench. No words near the bushes.”

“Alright. Do you feel up to trying Touch on either?”

“Let’s start with one of the bushes. They don’t give off the same malevolence.”

“Circle? Or would that be too much iron?”

“You stand guard. Let’s try it without the chains. Nothing’s attacked yet.”

Lockwood dug out a set of chains we kept fastened in a permanent loop and slung it over his
off shoulder. If I was being overwhelmed by what I was getting, he’d try putting it around me
to ease the strain. After a few too close calls, George and I had devised a system. We had
practised. Rigged like this, everyone at Lockwood and Co. could do it one handed while
wielding a rapier. Even if I occasionally got thwacked in the head, it was better than ghost-
touch or psychic enchainment. Lockwood was the best at it, only smacking me with the
chains under the most extreme conditions, so about thirty per cent of the time in the field. If
that didn’t work, he had a silver net in his belt pouch big enough to cover me. It was the more
extreme measure, sure to cut me off completely.

We moved back over to the closest bush. Lockwood positioned himself to watch my face and
the line of lilacs. This put the bench out of his line of sight, but there hadn’t been anything to
see yet, anyway. It should be fine.

I knelt down. This was a key step in our protocol. First, because it was easier than running
the risk of falling over. Second, because it put my head and shoulders low enough to make
tossing the chain circle easier. In this instance, it also allowed me to reach the base of the lilac
bush, closer to the roots.
Taking a deep breath, I reached out and touched one. The loop was subtle. Tears, wailing,
hope, despair, and underneath it all, a deep-seated pain. But it was frustratingly indistinct. I
couldn’t get a real lock on it or get any useful details. Shaking my head, I came out of my
trance.

“I don’t know. It’s strange. I could try another bush to see if I get something different, or I
could move onto the bench. What do you think?”

Lockwood was looking around the yard. “Whichever you think. If you think you need to try
another, we should hurry, though. Something’s building.”

“Okay. I’ll try the one closest to the bench, and then do it, too.” I stood up and stretched.
“How long was I out?”

“About twenty minutes.”

We moved down the line, closer to the house and the bench. Now that I wasn’t focused on
using my Touch, I could sense what had Lockwood on edge. The miasma had built to a
smothering intensity. I shuddered.

“I’ll try to hurry.” Kneeling down, I didn’t wait for a nod from Lockwood. This time, the loop
was different. Most of the same repeating feelings, but there was also anger, hot and
disturbing. Gasping, I rushed to stand. “Oh god. That one was much worse. I’m going to try
the bench. You okay?”

“Yeah. Still nothing to help locate the source?”

Frowning, I shook my head. “No. Hopefully, the bench gives me something else.”

The bench was only a few feet from us. Moving across to it was the work of moments. I knelt
down and reached out with my Touch. Even before I had registered the texture of the bench, I
was sucked into a powerful loop. A woman crying, an intense feeling of loss, a man talking
tenderly, hope, loss and crying again, this time the man was stern, hope, sobbing, this time
anger from the man, resignation, despair, shouting, more and more anger from the man, less
hope and more loss from the woman. Finally, an overwhelming feeling of betrayal and a
swell of anger from the woman, then a sharp pain, before the loop started again. A strange
chiming noise, barely audible on the first loop, was growing louder and louder. The emotions
and impressions whirling faster and faster with each repetition. I struggled to remember my
name, what I was supposed to be doing. The chiming was all-consuming.

I came to, covered in the silver net, collapsed against Lockwood’s leg as he shook my
shoulder and called my name. “Lucy?”

As frantic as he sounded, he wasn’t looking at me, and I couldn’t quite speak. Thinking fast, I
reached up and squeezed his hand on my shoulder.

“Oh, thank god. Something different is happening. There’s ghost fog, and multiple glimmers
on all sides. We don’t have a clear path out. None of our information mentioned any visible
manifestations, and you wouldn’t come out of it even when I covered you with the net.
Must’ve been five minutes since I tried it.”

“I’m alright.” I staggered to my feet and started carefully folding up the net. Shaking my
head, I struggled to separate my emotions from what I had just experienced.

“I think I might have something. I think it’s a woman. Some kind of cycle of abuse was
happening, the man getting worse and worse each time. At the end, some kind of major
betrayal and the woman finally got angry in return. He must have killed her. Does a chiming
or ringing noise mean anything to you?”

“Maybe. Can you describe it? Was it metallic? Delicate?”

“To start with, yeah. How did you…”

“This is bad, Lucy. I think it’s a type of cluster.”

“What?”

“We’re looking for a little metal rattle. Not sure of the shape, but it would be small enough
for a baby to hold.”

“How do you…”

“Just look, Lucy. I’ll explain while you do, but hurry. I think Holly packed a little camp
shovel in my bag. Get it out and start going through the dirt in the area around us. I’m not
sure if it would have just been lost, or buried.”

I carefully moved around Lockwood to reach his bag, finding the camp shovel quickly. Bless
Holly’s professional packing abilities. I started scraping the leaves and dirt away from the
bench, working outward a few feet before moving back in and digging a little deeper. “Tell
me what’s going on, Lockwood.”

“Remember how George’s research found that couple that lived in the house about a hundred
and fifty years ago? There was a scandal when the woman left him because he could never
give her children or some such rubbish and she disappeared? I don’t think that’s what
happened. Lilacs used to be planted over the graves of miscarriages and stillborns. But Lucy,
miscarriages and stillborns don’t create ghosts. Which would mean the babies were born
alive. I think the man must’ve been murdering them after they were born. You said he was
more and more angry. Maybe he was some kind of misogynist and they were girls. Whatever
the reason, he was lying to his wife. She must’ve found out, confronted him, and that’s when
he killed her.”

I dug around under the bench.

“The chiming noise would have been a baby rattle. They used to make heirloom rattles out of
metals. Pewter, silver, that kind of thing. She must have become obsessed with this rattle that
none of her babies got to use. As newborns, none of those ghosts are probably capable of
much, but they’ve somehow formed a synergistic relationship with the mother.”
“I think we’re going to have to go further afield. Maybe under the bushes?”

Lockwood nodded. “Okay. I’ll cover you. Grab another chain and make a circle that overlaps
with this one to get you closer.”

Laying out the new circle went smoothly. I moved over to assess what I needed to do. I
thought I could mostly stay in the circle while I reached out to dig. This was the bush that had
felt different. Hopefully, that was a good sign.

“Fast as you can, Luce. I think she’s actually making an appearance. Definitely an old-
fashioned lady. She’s in some kind of lacy, frilly dressing gown. And all of those glimmers
are starting to solidify. I think you must be close.”

I stabbed the tip of the shovel into the dirt in several spots, probing for any hints of metal.
Finally, I hit something. I started digging. Lockwood, standing guard, had started using ward
knots to fend off the ghost. She must be getting agitated. Finally, I could see a hard shape. It
looked a bit like a tiny dumbbell. I reached into the shallow hole to grab the item, and a small
hand swam up from the dirt to reach up towards me. I snatched my hand back, yelping.
Lockwood grabbed my collar and yanked me completely back into the circle, but my foot
flew out and kicked the item. It flew into a neighbouring bush, chiming softly. The apparition
that Lockwood was warding off flew to the side, dragged by the Source. Well, that was the
rattle alright.

“Are you okay? Did it touch you?”

“No. I’m okay. The uh, the Source went flying, though.”

“Did you see where?” Lockwood was back in full calm commander mode once he knew I
was okay.

“Um, remember that bush you think was a hydrangea?”

“You’re kidding. Think you can find the rattle again?”

“That bush is more than ten feet tall, and wider than you are tall. And whatever the rattle is
made out of, it’s gone black with age and dirt. I don’t like the odds.”

“Well, we’ll have to try. Things have only got worse. We can’t get to the fence and I don’t
fancy our chances just camping out here, even with all of our extra iron.”

“Shit. Okay.” I looked at the giant, leafless bush. All of the leaves were mounded at the base,
creating lots of places for the rattle to hide. “We won’t be able to get an iron circle close
enough to do any good.”

“Think we have enough chain to go all the way around?”

“Not sure. And if we did, it would probably have a weak spot in the middle. Remember the
Red Room?”

“Okay. What about salt and iron filings?”

“We can try it, but I don’t think it’ll do much good. The branches won’t allow the same
concentration as a flat surface. Okay,” Lockwood smiled grimly. “I don’t love the idea of you
out of the iron with this haunting. We don’t have enough data on a strong Touch loop leaving
you more vulnerable to ghost lock. It makes me nervous, but I’ll just have to guard you while
you look. We’ll set up another circle so we at least have somewhere close to retreat. Let’s do
that, then we can scatter the salt and iron filings. Ready?”

I pulled out one of my chains. “Ready.”

Quickly, we moved to a clear spot closer to the hydrangea. Thankfully, the eye of the ghost
fog storm seemed to be centred on the rattle, so it had stirred a path we were able to take to
get into position. I spread out the chain. Lockwood pulled out his stash of salt bombs and
packets of filings. As soon as I was done with the chain, he started lobbing them into the
bush. The apparition flickered, but I could still barely make it out from the corner of my eye.

“Give me all of your filings, but hold on to your salt bombs.”

I rummaged in my belt pouches and handed over the filings. Lockwood opened the packets
just so, making sure the filings would scatter properly when he threw them. I could barely
make out the apparition now, but Lockwood grimaced.

“I don’t like it. She’s still strong enough to ghost-touch you. Be very careful. At least none of
the babies’ sources should be over here.”

“Okay. Let’s get this done. I think I should leave my sword here. It’ll just get tangled.”

I removed my rapier, feeling a little naked without it in a haunted zone. Nodding at

Lockwood, I moved closer to the bush. I debated using my torch, but that would thoroughly
blind Lockwood for detecting such a faint apparition. No. It would be better to go without.

Sifting through the leaves at the base did not result in anything, so I grimaced and started
forcing my way into the dry branches. Maybe I’d jostle it and it would chime. I was only
about a foot in when a shout from Lockwood had me turning my head. I barely managed to
duck as the ghost dived over my head, just missing me. It turned and started coming back in
my direction.

I was struggling to back out of the bush when Lockwood grabbed my arm and yanked me
back and somehow face first into his chest. He threw something and flipped us around, even
as we fell, overbalanced. I landed with my back on the ground, but Lockwood’s coat
sheltered both of us from flying sparks as he hunched on hands and knees above me. The
ghost shrieked as her plasm burned, and the surrounding glimmers flickered out. With typical
Lockwood flair, we had landed in our iron circle. I could feel it under my heels. His eyes
scanned my face desperately. His lips were inches away from mine and I couldn’t seem to
look away.

“Lockwood, I think you lit the hydrangea bush on fire,” I said, dazed.

“I don’t care. As long as you’re safe, the whole goddamn world can burn.” And then he
kissed me. My thoughts melted. It was fierce and rushed, and I responded with all of the
passion that had been building since I first walked into Portland Row for an interview.

All at once, I noticed that the soles of my boots felt warm. I broke the kiss. “Shit.
Lockwood!”

“Fuck! Sorry. Sorry, I know you don’t…”

I cut him off. “Not that! Kiss me later! Right now you’ve got to grab the hose! Put out the
fire, Lockwood!”

“Bloody hell!” Lockwood leapt up and dashed for the side of the house. I struggled to gather
our things and drag them away from the inferno that was the hydrangea bush.

Lockwood made it back with the hose. “Spray the area first! Maybe it won’t spread.” Taking
off my jacket, I started beating at some smouldering patches in the leaves.

Lockwood finished spraying the area and started on the actual fire. Slowly, it started coming
under control. I started using the camp shovel to dig through the remaining sticks and sludge.
Somehow, I was still mostly clean. I was not going to dig by hand.

A clanging noise let me know that I had found the rattle again. Pulling out a small silver-
glass container from my rucksack, I dumped in the source, mud and all. I snapped the
container closed. I pulled out my pocket pack of Agent’s Wipes-TM (“Ideal for removing
soot, grave dirt, and ectoplasm stains”) but they should be fine for plain old mud too.

Wordlessly, I walked over and handed one to Lockwood.

“So. Uh, I should probably ring the bell and see if Mr Jones can call us a Night Cab. Explain
the hydrangea and that they should probably dig out the lilacs.”

“Probably need to find a different hydrangea to get a cutting,” I pointed out.

“Yeah. That’s alright.” Lockwood grinned crookedly. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back. Can you
gather up the kit bags? Meet over by the gate?”

“Sure.” Lockwood strode off towards the house and I stared after him. I wasn’t sure how to
bring up what had happened. That kiss had been everything I’d fantasised lying in my attic
room, thinking about my first kiss, but what if he shut me out? What if he didn’t want to talk
about it? I didn’t know where we stood, but I was scared to push. Well, it could at least wait
until he was done with the client.
 Chapter 6
Chapter Summary

Yep. Turns out Lucy was wrong.

Chapter Notes

Things start to get explicit in this chapter.

It is mostly smut.
You've been warned. 😉
See the end of the chapter for more notes

Soon enough, I had everything bundled up and was waiting by the gate. Sooner than I was
expecting, Lockwood joined me.

“Everything okay with Mr Jones?”

“Yes. Apparently, he is eager to completely redo the backyard now that the haunting is
solved, so he doesn’t mind the bush. He even said he might have us back to help with the
lilacs, depending on what he can find for removal services. Evidently he was moments away
from calling the fire brigade, but calmed down when I grabbed the hose.”

“Well then, glad we avoided that circus.” I smiled awkwardly. Lockwood’s flop of hair
ruffled in the breeze and his coat flared out behind him as he turned towards me. There was a
smudge of ash on his cheek, but he managed to look dashing instead of dishevelled.

“So, um, you said something about kissing you later. Did you mean that? ‘Cause I thought…”
Lockwood trailed off, and I grinned.

“You thought I wasn’t interested in kissing you? Would you believe that I thought you
weren’t interested in me, either?” I stepped closer.

“Honestly?” Lockwood stepped in and stroked my cheek. “Sounds like something we would
do. George kept telling me I was being an idiot.”

“Yes, well, at some point, we’ll figure out what a genius George is.”

“Yeah,” Lockwood breathed, and then his lips were on mine again. It was slow, soft, and
exploring. I pressed into him. At some point, we should probably talk, but this was nice for
now.
Lockwood’s hands moved, one to my waist, the other to the nape of my neck, and he pulled
me closer, deepening the kiss. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his waist under his
coat. It was warm and felt exquisite on my chilled skin. Lockwood’s hand moved down from
my waist to cup my arse and pulled me flush against him. He moaned into the kiss and I felt
his erection twitch where it was pressed into my hip bone. The stark contrast between his
heat at my front and the chill of the night behind me was maddening. I could feel myself
starting to soak through my knickers, and I whimpered. Suddenly, there was a flash of
headlights and we awkwardly sprang apart.

This time, the cab ride was tense for entirely different reasons. We sat on opposite sides, with
the kit piled in the middle. Lockwood’s eyes roved over me, stopping at the necklace, and
then getting snagged on my nipples, visible even through the fabric of my jumper. The chill
in the air and Lockwood’s proximity had them hard, but this jumper must be a bit thinner
than my usual. I’d have to keep that in mind for the next time I wore it. Or not. I could just
hear Lockwood’s stifled groan as he shifted uncomfortably and licked his lips. I checked my
watch. It had been a less than ten-minute drive to get to Mr Jones’. Hopefully, this cab driver
was just as fast. I shifted a bit and tried to rearrange my skirt. It wouldn’t do to leave a wet
spot in the cab.

Soon enough, we pulled up to Portland Row. I gathered up our bags as Lockwood paid the
driver. He took his bag and tried to open the door. Tried being the operative word. I had never
seen Lockwood fumble the key, but he dropped it twice before he got the door open. He
tossed his bag through, grabbed my hand to tug me through the doorway, kicked the door
closed, and pressed me up against it. I heard the bolt shoot home before his hands were
everywhere.

His mouth devoured mine, and I responded with all my pent up wanting. I’m pretty sure my
bag was dumped in front of the door, and I had one leg wound around Lockwood’s hip before
I even processed what I was doing. He moved one hand to my arse and hooked the other
under my thigh, easily hitching me up so I could wrap both legs around his waist.
Lockwood’s tongue darted out, licking at my lips and I opened my mouth, even as I let my
tongue dance with his, licking into his mouth, feeling his teeth, tasting the mint I’d given him
earlier.

Lockwood kept one hand under my arse and fumbled with the other to find his way down the
hall. He did pretty well, even making it up the steps to the landing, until I attacked his neck.
Then he stumbled and knocked something off the wall. If we were lucky, it would be that old
fertility gourd that George had already broken years ago. We had moved it from the foyer to
the landing because it was supposed to be safer. We both froze for a moment, but when there
was no sound of George moving, Lockwood pressed me against his closed door and started
kissing me again.

“Lockwood,” I panted in between kisses. “George. We can’t wake up George.”

“Well then,” he breathed in my ear, “we’ll just have to be quiet.” Lockwood proceeded to
draw my earlobe into his mouth and I moaned at the feel of his teeth nipping at the sensitive
spot. “Uh uh, Lucy. Can’t wake up George. How about a bet? First one to make a sound loud
enough to wake George has to start the conversation with him tomorrow.”

I gathered my wits. Words. I could do words. “What conversation?”

Lockwood chuckled. “The conversation where we discuss the new house rules for you and
me dating. I assume he’ll have a few.”

“Oh? Is that what we’re doing now? Dating?” I asked archly.

Lockwood paused and started to lower me back to the ground. “I mean, I thought, is that
not?”

I took pity on him. “Of course it’s what I want, you daft boy. I just wanted to make sure we’re
on the same page, given our epic failure to communicate the last three and a half years.” I
kissed him again, rather chastely this time. “And I think George will be thrilled to have that
conversation with us, but I am so not starting it.”

“Well then, Miss Carlyle, I do believe we have a bet.” He scooped me back up and began
trying to suck love bites into my throat while he fumbled for the doorknob.

“Lockwood,” I giggled. “Just set me down for a moment. I’d like to actually make it into
your room without waking up George.”

“Oh fine. It’s not as fun, though.” Lockwood ushered me over the threshold. Given how
awkward things had been between us, it had been ages since I’d been in his room. Everything
looked the same, but then I noticed a new picture on the dresser. I stepped over to look closer
while Lockwood locked his door.

“Where did you get this?” I asked. In a delicate iron frame was the image of Lockwood in
front of the burning Fittes Building that I was so familiar with, but for the first time, I saw
that all of the papers must have been using a cropped version. Lockwood wasn’t staring into
the distance. He was looking at me, just a few feet from him and clutching what had to be the
blanket full of the skull. Seen in this context, Lockwood wasn’t posing or trying to look cool,
as I had always teased him. He was gazing wistfully at a horribly scruffy, crying Lucy
Carlyle.

“Ah. Yes. Well. I called in a favour at the paper that first published it. Got them to put me in
touch with the photographer so I could get some things for the casebook. Figured there had to
be more than just the one picture after all, but, well…I had to have this one for myself.” He
shuffled up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. “Now, I know I’ve gone and ruined
the mood, so if you’d rather, we can just cuddle and talk, but if you’d like to continue…”
Lockwood swept my hair out of the way and gently kissed the nape of my neck. Moaning, I
shivered and tipped my head to the side, giving him better access.

“I think I have a bet to win, sir,” I murmured.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Lockwood groaned and pressed kisses into my neck and his
growing erection into my arse. I ground back against him, fascinated with the feel of his cock
even through our clothes. His fingertips dug into my hip bones before he ghosted them up my
ribs to circle my nipples. I bit back a groan as he flicked one and then pinched it, before
cupping my breast and kneading it while treating the other one to the same motion.

“Lockwood,” I gasped. “Clothes. There’re too many clothes.”

“Alright.” He spun me around. “I think we can sort that. All? Or just your top for now?”

“Let’s, um, let’s start with just the jumper.”

Lockwood tugged me back to the bed. He sat on the edge and bent forward to trail kisses up
my side as he removed my shirt.

“What about the bra?” he looked at me wide eyed.

I nodded. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

Lockwood leaned forward to kiss my collarbone as he reached around to unhook my bra.

Where had he learned how to do that? He slipped the straps from my shoulders and stared. I
felt his hands tremble. “Oh, Lucy. Can I?”

In reply, I took one of his shaking hands from my waist and brought it to my breast. “Please.”

He squeezed and brushed his callused thumb over the nipple. I rubbed my thighs together and
he grinned, confident again. “Let me know if I’m too rough?”

I nodded, then gasped as he took the other nipple in his mouth, rolled his tongue around it,
and sucked. Then he lightly bit the tip and I grabbed at his hair, groaning. “Oh my god.
Lockwood. Yes.”

My head tipped back and my eyes closed as he continued kneading, suckling and, oh god,
nipping at my breasts. Every time his teeth made contact with my nipple, it sent me spiralling
higher. Lockwood let go of my hip and trailed his fingers from my inner knee up to the hem
of my skirt. He was inches from my core, and I squirmed.

I let go of his hair to find the zipper. Where was it? Ah. It had got twisted around to the side.
Finally, I pushed it down and Lockwood took a break from tormenting me to help guide the
skirt down over my hips to pool around my feet. “Tights, too,” I insisted.

I grabbed the waistband, but Lockwood grabbed my wrist. “Wait. Let me.” He worked them
down far more sensually than I would have, kissing my hip bone, my thighs, the side of my
knee. By the time I could step out of them, I was breathing hard, and Lockwood knelt on the
floor, looking up at me. “Are you still good?”

It took a moment for my brain to catch up, but then I nodded. Lockwood reached out and
used both hands to guide my soaked knickers over my arse and down my thighs. He guided
me back to the bed as he removed them completely and tossed them somewhere.

“Wait,” I said. He froze. “Your shirt. Take it off.”

“Anything for you, Luce.” Lockwood’s fingers made quick work of the buttons. “Now, where
were we?”

I laid back as he moved over me, supporting himself on one hand as he trailed the other from
my collarbone down to my sensitive nipples. He leaned forward and kissed me, then stopped
and looked me in the eyes. “You have to tell me if you want me to stop. I’ve wanted you for
so long, I don’t know where to draw the line.”

“Okay.” I reached up to kiss him and he stopped me.

“Lucy, it’s important. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

I stopped trying to press up against him and found his eyes.

“Okay. I promise. No regrets. Now, kiss me.”

This time he let me pull him down into a kiss as his hand roved lower. I tensed as his
fingertip found my dripping centre, and he paused, looking at me. Biting my lip, I nodded,
and he slowly pushed one slender finger into me. I arched my back and groaned,
remembering at the last moment to be quiet. I ground myself into his palm and whimpered.
Lockwood shifted so that he was lying alongside me and bent his head to suckle and nip at
my tits. I squirmed. His erection was pressing into my hip as he added a second finger. It slid
in easily, and he groaned.

“You’re so wet, Luce.”

“Lockwood,” I gasped. “Oh. Oh, god.” I writhed and my head thrashed.

He was alternating pumping in and out with circling his fingertips against something I’d
never reached that sent sparks fizzing up to my nipples and down to my toes.

“Do you want a third?”

I was so close. I nodded, then realised he probably couldn’t see me. “Yes. Please, yes.”

The third finger took more effort. As Lockwood slowly added it, I felt my orgasm building
and clutched at the sheets. A particularly harsh nip to my right nipple, and I was coming apart
around his fingers. My back arched up off the bed, and my mouth opened in a mostly silent
cry.

Lockwood pumped once, twice, then pulled out and swirled a wet fingertip around a sensitive
nub. I squirmed as he brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean.

“Holy hell,” I gasped.

He grinned, then leaned in to kiss me. “Good, then?”

I weakly punched his arm. “You prat. Where’d you learn all that, then?”
“You know all those gossip magazines you and George give me shit for? They’re not just
society pics and advice on what to wear.”

“Oh. Well. I suppose you can keep reading those, then.”

Lockwood laughed softly. “Seriously, though. It was alright?”

“More than just alright. I, um,” I faltered. “I might not be as good at, uh, all that.”

Lockwood nuzzled my cheek. “Whatever you do, I bet it blows my mind. I am so hard right
now that I bet I could come just looking at you, let alone you actually touching me. That is,
um, that’s only if you want to, Luce,” he backtracked.

I moved my hand to stroke softly from the base to the tip of his very erect prick, visible
through two layers of clothes.

“Have to take your trousers off first, but yes. I want a turn.”

My breathing mostly back to normal, I rolled us so I was on top. I leaned down to cup his
face in my hands and kissed him. “I, uh, might ask you to handle the fastenings, though. My
hands are a little shaky.” I scooted back so he could get to his belt, and then helped him work
his trousers and pants down over his arse and long legs. Standing by the side of the bed, I
looked for a good place to toss them before deciding that fair was fair and just tossed them
aside. If I got to play scavenger hunt in the morning, then so did he.

Then I looked down. My eyes widened and I bit my lip. He was big, much bigger than the
three fingers he had just used.

Lockwood had been watching me closely, and he sat up. “Hey. What’s wrong? You don’t
have to. We can just go to sleep.”

I shook my head. “No, I want to. It’s not that, I just, it’s bigger than I was expecting.”

“Is that a problem?”

I used a knee to nudge his legs apart and knelt. “Nope,” I popped the ‘p’. “I am just very
excited for when you get around to fucking me.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes
and licked my lips.

“Lucy,” Lockwood moaned. “You can’t just say things like that. I’ll cum before you even
touch me.”

“That would actually be kind of hot, but that’s not what I want right now.” I eyed the swollen
head of his cock. The pronounced head looked like it would feel amazing fucking me, but I
was a little worried about what I was about to do. I looked up at him. “Um, you can grab my
head, move me if you want, but don’t hold me down. Is that okay?”

“Of course, Luce. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

I tentatively reached out a finger and gently stroked from the turgid, velvety head to the thick
base. Lockwood shuddered.

“Don’t tease, Luce. Not this time.”

“Sorry. I’ve just never seen one up close.”

“Fuck, Luce.” Lockwood tried to cover himself with the sheet. “Have you, have you never
done anything? I just figured you had dated someone back home. I mean, look at you. The
boys should have been lined up.”

“I wasn’t really interested in anyone back home, and they were always more interested in
Norrie. Now, you on the other hand, I am very interested in you. I am very interested in doing
everything with you.” I tugged the sheet off of his lap. “Starting with sucking you off.”

I wrapped a hand around the shaft and leaned forward to lick a stripe up to the tip, flicking
out my tongue to catch a bead of precum. The salty fluid was slightly bitter, but not
unpleasant. Looking up, I found Lockwood’s eyes wide, focused on my face. “Let me know
if I do something you don’t like.”

“Okay.” Lockwood’s hands fisted in the sheets.

Licking my lips to wet them, I lowered my mouth around Lockwood’s cock. I swirled my
tongue a few times, exploring the defined edge of the head, before bobbing down. I was only
able to go a few inches before I hit my gag reflex, and I refocused on the head while I
pondered what to do. Obviously, I could work on that, but that wasn’t going to help right
now. Well, I always had my hands.

I let some saliva drip down onto the hand that was holding the shaft, and experimented with a
pumping motion while bobbing down as far as I could comfortably take it.

“Holy shit, Lucy,” Lockwood groaned. “That. Keep doing that.”

Encouraged, I repeated the combination a few more times, licking and swirling my tongue
around the head at the top of each bob.

“Lucy. Luce. Fuck.” By this point Lockwood was quite loudly moaning a litany of mostly
nonsense. He had forgotten the bet, or had greater faith in George’s deafness while sleeping
than I did. Long fingers wove into the hair at the back of my head, and I felt Lockwood begin
to push and pull my head in a slightly faster rhythm. Once I relaxed a bit, it was actually
helpful, so I hummed to indicate that this was okay. That must have done something, because
Lockwood’s cock twitched.

“Oh God. Lucy, I’m cumming.” He tried to pull me up, but I stayed put, with my mouth
around the head. Lockwood groaned my name one last time as hot, salty fluid spurted against
my tongue. I waited until I felt his cock relax, then carefully sucked off the end. My mouth
full of warm cum, I looked up at Lockwood, then around the room, but he was too blissed out
to follow my thought process, and I didn’t see the cup he normally kept on his bedside table.
I really hadn’t thought this through. Resignedly, I swallowed and Lockwood gulped.
“Bloody hell, Lucy. That was really hot, but you didn’t have to swallow it.”

Smiling, I stood up. “Well, I didn’t want to get it on my face, since a shower would wake up
George. I thought I’d just catch it and then spit it out. Don’t see your water glass, though.”

Lockwood looked mortified. Leaning forward, I kissed him. “It’s fine. Wasn’t that bad,
really.”

There were limited options available for staying face to face with him. Wrapping my arms
around his neck, I clambered up to straddle Lockwood’s lap on the edge of the mattress. I
could feel his muscles strain as he found the right counter balance.

“I’m not sure how you could possibly have thought I wasn’t interested in you, but I suppose
I’ll just have to keep proving how wrong you were.” I rolled my hips, and even though he’d
just cum, I felt his cock twitch. Leaning forward, I started kissing his neck. Every sound he
made encouraged me to heighten my efforts, and soon I was sucking and licking and nipping
my way down his throat, across his collarbone, and then up the other side. His hands clutched
at my hips.

I sucked on his earlobe, then lightly licked the outer edge of his ear before whispering,
“Think you’ll be up for a round two tonight?”

“Give me a few minutes and I think I could manage something. After all, I need to prove how
wrong you were as well. I’ve been obsessed with you since I hired you.”

Leaning back a bit, my eyes scanned his face for signs of exaggeration. “What, what are you
talking about?”

“You came in here, stood up to George, stood down the skull in the jar, and then gave the
most insanely accurate reading of those psychical items that I almost couldn’t believe it. I
was doomed. I lied to myself and George. I said that I was hiring you for your phenomenal
talent, but it was your snark, your passion, and your fire that had me caught from day one. I
tried to tell you so many times, but you never responded to my gestures like I wanted. I was
sure you knew how hopeless I was and just didn’t know how to let me down. I thought you
just wanted another brother figure like George.”

“Oh good grief. I was convinced you saw your sister when you looked at me. You mentioned
it that once, how she kind of looked like me. I was trying so hard to stay within the bounds of
employee/employer and then brother/sister relationships that I thought I was going insane.
You haven’t been able to look me in the eye in months, Lockwood!”

“You don’t actually look like her. It’s all superficial. But you didn’t say anything when I gave
you my mother’s necklace! I thought you didn’t want to acknowledge it, so you were just
being polite when you wore it. It hurt! And then it was even worse when you stopped
wearing it!”

“You gave me the necklace. I was expecting you to say something!” I took a deep breath and
pressed my forehead against his. “I think I’m beginning to understand just what Holly meant
when she said we were driving everyone insane.”
Lockwood grinned crookedly. “I suppose I see what you mean. Sorry, Luce. I never meant to
make things so crazy.”

I smiled ruefully. “That’s alright. I was part of the mess, too. Guess we’ll have to follow
Holly’s advice and try communicating from now on.”

He laughed and nuzzled into my neck. “You have the best ideas. Maybe we can try that later.”
His kisses and nips up and down my throat sent that fizzing sensation chasing up and down
my spine. Unconsciously, I ground down into his lap. The head of his cock, semi-hard again,
rubbed against my folds and I felt a gush of wetness coat him. My back arched as I moaned,
and Lockwood had to work to keep me in place. My position had my tits in his face, and he
darted out his tongue to wet each nipple, then blew gently. Lockwood grinned when they
peaked instantly, and I gasped.

“Please. Please suck on them again,” I pleaded in a breathy voice. Lockwood met my eyes as
he slowly took a nipple in his mouth, sucked gently while he swirled his tongue, and then
used his teeth. At that, I jolted again, and his head rubbed against my clitoris. Deciding to
explore that particular sensation, I gyrated my hips. I moaned and shook as I stimulated
myself against Lockwood’s fast hardening cock.

“Lucy,” he gasped. “Lucy, we need to stop.”

“But I’m so close,” I whimpered brokenly.

“Okay. Okay.”

Lockwood stood up, turned around, and deposited me on the bed. I couldn’t understand what
he was doing and struggled to hold on to him, but he pushed me flat and kissed his way down
my body.

“I’ve got you, Lucy. Just relax.”

I pouted, but then gasped as Lockwood’s tongue found my centre. He tentatively traced my
folds before circling my clit, then he flicked it with his tongue as he pressed in a finger. My
head pressed into the bed as my back arched, and I wound my hands in the sheets to keep
myself from grabbing his hair.

“Lockwood. Fuck. Lockwood.”

He moaned, and the vibration sent a jolt up my spine. The change in position had interrupted
the build up of my orgasm, but I could feel it starting again. My fingers and toes were
tingling, and my hands were shaking. I moaned and Lockwood redoubled his efforts, adding
a second finger and sucking on my clit. I came instantly, my hands clutching the sheets and
my head thrashing. For a few moments, I just shuddered with the aftershocks, slowly coming
back to myself. Lockwood’s forehead was still pressed into my thigh, and once I could
untangle my hands from the sheets, I reached down to card my fingers through his hair. He
kissed my inner thigh and looked up at me.

“Lockwood?” I asked weakly.

“Just a second, Luce,” he panted.

I propped myself up on my elbows to look at him. “Don’t you want me to help you finish?”

“That’s uh, that’s not an issue.” Lockwood was blushing.

“Oh. Uh, do you want me to help you clean up? I can get you a tissue?”

“It’s okay. I managed to grab my shirt off the floor.”

“So, um, everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He finally stood and crawled up onto the bed next to me as I lay back down. “I just
needed a minute.” Lockwood kissed me and I could taste myself on his lips.

“Why did you, uh, why did you change positions? I would have cum without you having to
go down on me.”

“I didn’t want to cum all over you. Didn’t figure you wanted a shower at this time of night
and I wasn’t going to outlast you. Besides, I figured it was only fair since you already went
down on me. Have to keep up with you after all,” he teased.

I frowned. “It’s not a contest. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do yet.”

He snorted. “Lucy, I have been wanting to taste you for ages, and believe me, it didn’t
disappoint. Think you would be okay with me practising that with you? I think I have room
for improvement.” His last words tickled my ear, and I gulped.

“Sure. Anytime you like. Shall I pencil you in for after rapier drills?”

“I’m quite serious, Lucy. You know how I get about practising a new skill. And I am very
interested in perfecting the art of bringing you to orgasm.” Lockwood nuzzled into my neck
and I blushed.

“Only if I get to practise, too,” I said as firmly as I could with Lockwood’s kisses ghosting
down my throat.

“Now that is a deal.” He stopped kissing my neck and placed a kiss on my nose. I smiled.

He reached up to brush the hair out of my face and looked at me with all the tenderness I’d
been missing for the past year. Lockwood found my hand and raised it to his lips, kissing my
knuckles. “Right now, I just want to cuddle and get in a few hours of sleep before we have to
be awake, but we should probably clean up. Why don’t you head over to the loo, and I’ll be
there in a few minutes with a flannel?”

“What about George?”

“Oh, he’s used to me getting up in the night. He probably won’t even stir.”
 “Okay. I do have to pee, so make sure you give me those minutes.” Sitting up, I looked
around. “Um…”

“Wear one of my dressing gowns,” Lockwood yawned.

I nodded and snagged one to put on before I ducked across the hall to the loo. Hurriedly, I did
what I needed, and then Lockwood was there, tapping lightly on the door. I opened it and he
slipped into the room with a flannel from the hall closet.

He wet it at the sink, then turned to me and knelt. Gently, he wiped me clean, and I felt a
blush rising to my hairline.

“I get to do you too then,” I said as he finally stood.

I rinsed out the cloth and then tried to clean him as gently and thoroughly as he had done for
me. “All done,” I whispered.

He nodded and tossed the cloth into the hamper. Quietly, he opened the door, then held my
hand as we crossed the hallway. It was only a few steps, so it seemed a bit silly, but I couldn’t
deny that the physical closeness felt reassuring.

Lockwood pulled me into his room and shut the door. We climbed into bed a bit awkwardly,
but soon I was snuggled up under his chin and beginning to feel tired.

“Would you think I’m silly if I said I was afraid to fall asleep and wake to find this all a
dream?” Lockwood whispered into my hair.

“No. Never silly. I feel the same. But I’ll be here in the morning. Now that I’ve got you,
you’re not getting rid of me easily.” I could feel him starting to doze off. “Hey. Who do you
think lost the bet?” I wondered if Lockwood was even aware of how loud he’d got.

“I think we both won. I don’t think we woke him up at all. You know what a deep sleeper he
is,” Lockwood yawned.

“I guess we’ll find out in the morning,” I snuggled back into Lockwood’s arms and marvelled
at the softness of his pillow. It was much better than mine. Maybe I’d have to ask for an
upgrade. Or just to have more sleepovers down here. That wouldn’t be too fast, right? It’s not
like I’d be moving in exactly.

Chapter End Notes

Well, the two idiots are finally starting to figure it out. What do you think?
 Chapter 7
Chapter Summary

The next morning. Lucy continues to have issues paying attention to client interviews.

Lockwood’s alarm started ringing far too early. I swear, it was about two hours earlier than
my usual. Had the skull been telling the truth two years ago about how long Lockwood took
to do his hair in the mornings? Surely not. I was distracted from my groggy musings when
Lockwood rolled back over and buried his face in my hair. He pulled me back against him
and I could feel his morning wood.

“Happy to see me?” I giggled.

“Always. You have no idea. But right now, we need to get going. We’ve got that client
meeting at eleven, and I want to talk to George before that. I don’t think I’d be able to lie to
him all day.” He nuzzled through my hair to find the skin at the nape of my neck and I
shuddered as he started slowly kissing me there. He’d already figured out that this was a
major turn on, so this was honestly a bit cruel. I pressed back into him.

“Are you sure? I can think of a few things that would be more fun.”

Lockwood groaned. “Lucy, I want to absolutely ravish you right now, but George will be up
any time, and I’m fairly certain that’s not how you want to break the news to him.”

I sat up. “Oh my god. No. Go. Get dressed!” I scrambled to get out of bed and find my
clothes. Where was my bra? My tights? I froze.

“Lockwood,” I hissed. “I can’t go down in my clothes from last night! George will notice!”

“Think you could sneak upstairs?”

“What if he sees me?”

“Lucy,” Lockwood began.

“I don’t want him to think I spent the night in your room the same night we started dating!” I
was starting to hyperventilate a bit.

Lockwood came around the bed and took my hands. “Hey. Hey, look at me. Did you not
want, I mean, do you regret last night?” His faltering tone brought me out of my spiral.

“Oh. Oh, no, Lockwood. I don’t regret it at all.” I stretched up to kiss him. “I just don’t want
George to think I’m some kind of…” I searched for a word, “floozy.”
Lockwood’s face relaxed, and he started to smile. “Floozy? Really? Did we wake up in
Victorian times? I’m not sure I have the right cravat.”

I punched his arm lightly. “You know what I mean. He, you guys, you’re all I have. I don’t
want him to think less of me.”

“Hey. That will never happen. You know that George loves you, right? He’s not just going to
make assumptions. And if he has any concerns, he’ll definitely say something. You know
George. Just wear some of my old things. There’s some at the back that I haven’t worn in
forever. George won’t notice.”

Lockwood and I were about halfway down the stairs before George’s very pronounced cough
from the kitchen alerted us to the fact that our sneaking, while mostly ineffectual, was also
entirely unnecessary. I held a finger to my lips and gestured for Lockwood to go ahead while
I attempted to straighten my hair and clothes a bit more. All was for nought as I rounded the
corner and ran straight into Lockwood. I narrowly avoided landing on my rear on the floor of
the kitchen, mostly because Lockwood managed to turn and catch me.

Once I was standing upright under my own steam, he didn’t let go of my hand, and I looked
at him askance. “Ah, yes, well, it seems that George already knows. So much for easing him
into it. Or surprising him, for that matter.”

“Mate, the only surprising thing is how long you both took to get your heads out of your
bums.”

“Ah, well.” Lockwood coughed. “Toast, Lucy?”

“Yes, please. Tea?”

“Thank you.” Lockwood kissed my temple and moved to the counter to begin making our
breakfast.

I stepped to the cabinet and pulled down two mugs. George already had the water going, so I
just tossed in the tea bags and had the tea brewing before Lockwood was even done with the
first round of toast. I sat down at the table with the two mugs, stirred a splash of milk into
one, and a larger dollop of milk and a bit of sugar into the other. I took a sip. Perfect. “You’re
up early, George.”

He snorted. “I’ve been up for hours, Lucy.”

My tea almost came out of my nose, and George rolled his eyes and thumped me between the
shoulder blades.

“Oh?” I asked once I was done sputtering. “Why’s that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Lucy. Couldn’t quite get back to sleep after I woke up around six this
morning. You wouldn’t know why there were some, shall we say, new, noises coming from
across the hall? Must’ve been quite the hookup.”
This time, the tea did come out of my nose. I’m not sure why I hadn’t just set down the damn
cup. I’m going to blame my need for caffeine and my sleep deprivation. “Hookup?” I choked
out.

Lockwood bustled around the table to rub my back and glare at George as I wiped away the
tea and tears. “George, you’re my best mate, but I will murder you if you kill Lucy before
breakfast. Ease up. She didn’t grow up with three older brothers and a rather sexually
liberated mother. At least let her drink her tea unmolested.”

“Ah. Yes. Um, sorry, Lucy. Well?” George stared between us. “Are you official, then? Dating
and all that?”

“Yes, George,” Lockwood rolled his eyes.

“Well, damn,” George sighed. “I guess I owe Holly a tenner.”

“What?” I sat up straight. “I thought it was you and Kipps that had that asinine bet.”

“Oh, Kipps and I have our own bet, but I told Holly that her little scheme last night wouldn’t
work, and she placed a bet on it. Lord knows pairing you on missions has never solved it in
the past. Just increased the levels of pining we all have to put up with.”

Lockwood frowned. “Wait. What? What scheme?”

“Mrs Jenkins didn’t request that we bump her up in the schedule. Holly just wanted an excuse
to send the two of you out by yourselves.”

“But, Mr Jones’ was dangerous! What if the two of us weren’t enough? Lucy almost got
ghost-touched!” I placed my hand over Lockwood’s.

“Hey. It’s okay. I was fine. I trusted you to have my back, and you did.”

“You, you knew they did this?”

“Not until we were leaving yesterday. I knew Holly wanted us to actually talk. She must have
figured it would only happen if she created the opportunity. I wasn’t expecting the rest,
though,” I added.

“Mutiny. Mutiny within my own company,” Lockwood grumbled, but he was smiling again.

“So, wait,” I looked back to George. “Did we wake you up last night? Or did you wake up
completely unrelated to, um, noises?”

“Oh, I’d think it’s fair to say that you both woke me up. I’m not in the habit of being up
before sunrise after all.”

“Oh, god,” I buried my face in my hands.

Lockwood was more relaxed. “So, if you had to say, was it Lucy or me that ultimately woke
you up?”
It was George’s turn to sputter. “What? Who? Why on earth are you asking that?”

“Oh, just a little bet between Lucy and me,” Lockwood’s smile was wolfish.

“Um, uh, neither? The bed? It was, um, squeaking. Yes, that’s it.”

“Oh no, George. Not good enough. Was it me or Lucy that you were having the issue with?”

George closed his eyes. “You. It was you, Lockwood. Please don’t make me relive that any
further.”

“Mmm. Alright. If you say so. Guess I owe you a forfeit, Luce. And since George already
started the conversation this morning, I suppose we’ll have to come up with something else.”
His smirk had me blushing even as I tried to drink my tea.

“Okay, George. This is your opportunity. Time to revisit the house rules. What are your
requests?”

George took off his glasses and rubbed the lenses. “One, common spaces are safe spaces. I
don’t want to worry about walking in on you when I come down to the library or need to be
in the office.”

Lockwood nodded. “Reasonable. What else.”

“Two, don’t be too loud while I’m in the house. Please. I need my beauty sleep.”

“What if you’re awake?”

“Be even more quiet. I don’t need that in my head about my best mate and my adoptive
sister.”

“What if I buy you those noise cancelling headphones you keep asking for?” Lockwood
countered.

“I reserve the right to renegotiate the point.”

“Fair enough. Anything else?”

“Yes. Rule three. Don’t leave, um, bits around.”

I interrupted here. “Bits?”

“Bras, underpants, condoms. You know, bits. I expect you both to have a hard time with rule
number one, especially if I’m out. At least if you adhere to this one I can pretend you two
aren’t getting,” he paused, “frisky in rooms I frequent.”

I could feel my blush spreading to the roots of my hair.

“Alright. So, three rules, summed up by ‘be discreet.’ I think we can manage.”
“Ah. Nope. One more. You have to both promise to communicate. I will not be dealing with
any further ridiculous relationship drama that could be avoided if you two just had a
conversation. No bitching to me if you haven’t talked to each other first. Okay. That should
be it. All I can think of, anyway. And I expect those noise cancelling headphones soon.”
George looked at Lockwood over his glasses. “Don’t be a cheapskate, either. Remember,
your happiness could very well depend on how well they work.” George smiled.

“I am happy for you guys. You’ve been driving us all insane.”

Lockwood looked away from me to smile at George.

“So, who won your bet?"

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to check the last updates. I think it’s Kipps, but it could be Barnes.
You’d think I would have had the advantage living with you…”

“Barnes? Isn’t that unethical or something?”

“Oh, he didn’t bet money. If he won, I owe him some research help. I probably would have
done it anyway, but if he won, I’ll need to bump it ahead of my personal projects. Hmm.
Should probably check.”

George stopped staring off into the distance and refocused on us. “Enough about that. Onto
the real question. How do you want to tell Holly? Because, if you don’t want her to know
everything immediately, Lucy had better change out of Lockwood’s clothes, and she’s due
any minute.”

Five minutes later, I was holed up in the library when Holly arrived. I had grabbed a dressing
gown from my attic, and George had declared it “probably good enough.” I could faintly hear
Lockwood telling her that I wanted to talk to her, and I contrived to look a bit upset. This was
actually somewhat difficult, so I ended up curled up on the couch with my head in my arms.

Holly entered the room, and I gave it a moment. “Oh, Lucy. The boys told me you aren’t
feeling well. Did things go badly then? I’m so sorry.” She gently settled onto the couch next
to me, reaching out a hand to rub my shoulder.

I whirled around and crushed her in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so
much.”

“What? What on earth, Lucy?” Holly had frozen in place.

I pulled back enough to see her face and beamed. “It worked. You were right.”

She looked me up and down. “I take it that things went well?” She raised one impeccable
eyebrow.

“Oh, bloody hell. What now? I knew I should have just changed completely.”
Holly grinned. “I do handle all of the laundry, so I know those aren’t your pyjamas. But
actually, I meant the matching love bites.”

I clapped a hand to my neck.

“Bloody hell.”

“You said that already. I want to hear everything, but it’ll have to be later. I have to get
everything ready for the client interview, and then we have that full team meeting. Come with
me on my errands later? We can get tea while we’re out.”

“Sounds lovely, Holly. I’d better go get ready for the day, anyway.” I stood up and stretched.
“Maybe I’ve got a roll neck I can wear.”

“You do. I put the grey one away yesterday.”

“Thanks, Holly.” I paused on the threshold. “You’re the best.”

I was looking over my shoulder, so I ran straight into Lockwood, who had apparently been
lurking in the hallway.

“Lockwood!”

“Oh, um. Hey there, Luce. Everything go okay with Holly?”

“Of course, you dork. We’re getting tea later. What are you even doing out here?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and I noticed the marks up and down the column of his throat,
disappearing under his collar where there were sure to be more. How the fuck had I missed
those earlier? They were livid against his pale skin. I must have been distracted.

“George, uh, George was nervous that things…” Lockwood trailed off as I tried to raise an
eyebrow like Holly and probably only succeeded in looking like a startled rabbit. “What’s
wrong? You’re doing something weird with your eyes.”

“Nothing’s wrong with my eyes! I’m just wondering why you are lying to me. George was
not worried. George was the one that thought we should prank Holly in the first place. Mind
you, I just think he’s just disgruntled that he owes her that tenner, but regardless, George
knew there would not be a problem, which means that you were worried.” My eyes widened.
“Wait. When I came back to the company and you said that George had been pretty upset,
and that George wasn’t keen to hire someone else,” I trailed off. “It was you. It was never
George, was it?”

Now he was rubbing his ear and refusing to look at me. “Well, I mean, George certainly
wasn’t happy that you left. Mostly blamed me, and it was quite the mess.”

“Lockwood. Hey.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards me. “I thought we were past
this. Don’t hide from me, okay? I was pretty miserable that winter, too.”

“Ah. Right. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

Holly cleared her throat behind me.

“Oh, lord. Holly.”

“As sweet as this is, I think you both need to get showered before Ms Bailey arrives, and I
need to get to the kitchen.”

“Oh my god. I forgot you were there. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I figured I’d tidy up the library a bit, but I’m all done, so…can I get past?”

I was blushing furiously, I could tell, but I moved to let Holly by.

Lockwood leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Well, I wonder how long you’re going to
continue turning that delightful shade of red anytime someone talks about us. Hmm, I wonder
how far down it goes.” He nuzzled my ear, and I moaned before I remembered that I was
supposed to be getting something done.

“Lockwood!” I hissed. “Stop. Not now.” I squirmed as his breath on the shell of my ear
started reminding my body of just what I would prefer to be doing right now. Just as I was
getting ready to pull away, Lockwood spun me around and kissed me. It was slow and sweet
and made my head spin. He pulled away and grinned. “Later then. Right now, I bet I can beat
you at getting ready for the day.” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and darted away,
back out in the hall with his change of clothes before I had managed to move.

“Hey! There had better be some hot water left!” Galvanised into action, I scrambled for the
stairs. Maybe if I hurried, I wouldn’t have to take a cold shower.

In the end, I had enough for an actually hot shower. Maybe Lockwood had taken pity on me
and used cold for part of his. I hurriedly dressed and looked in the mirror. The roll neck just
about covered all of the love bites. But honestly, I had not fared as badly as Lockwood. I
never had bruised as easily as him. My hair now looked presentable, and overall, I thought I
looked about as professional as I usually did.

I ran downstairs, only to find Lockwood already ensconced in his favoured spot on the couch,
sipping a cup of tea, with a perfect looking cuppa in front of my spot next to him. I grumbled
a bit about being farther away from the library as an excuse, but I knew the truth. I was sore,
and the hot water had felt too good to truly scramble.

Lockwood noticed my wince as I sat down. He looked alarmed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Probably the case as much as anything else from last night.” I nudged him with my
elbow. “Thanks for the hot water.”

“Of course. A cold shower was probably good for me, anyway.” Lockwood grinned
crookedly. “Maybe I’ll be able to focus on our client.”

I smiled into my cup. “Maybe. Is it just the one?”

“Yeah. But then we have that company meeting, and George said he wanted to wait til then to
tell us about Mrs Jenkins’.” He frowned. “I wonder what that’s about. I feel like if it had gone
well, he would have said so.”

“Well, guess we’ll find out,” I shrugged.

Holly bustled in wearing one of George’s frilly aprons and set a picture perfect cake on the
coffee table. Hands on hips, she looked around the room. “I think everything is ready for the
client. Lockwood, do you want me to cover up those love bites? I think I still have something
that would match your skin tone from that undercover attempt.”

“Do you think I need to? Don’t you think I can just pass them off as bruises from a case?”

Holly and I glanced at each other and then turned to look at him, nonplussed. “Not if they
have a brain in their heads,” Holly said flatly.

“Okay, fine,” he huffed. “I suppose if you think we have time.”

Holly bustled out, and I turned to find Lockwood pouting.

“Sorry. They are pretty obvious. I should have been more careful.”

“It’s not that.” His eyes shifted away from me. “I like seeing them. Reminds me that last
night was real.”

I felt a blush spread over my face. The phone rang in the hall, but we both ignored it.

“Just because Holly covers them up with some makeup doesn’t mean they’re gone.”

He snorted.

“We can always wash it off after the client meeting.”

“Deal.”

“You know, if you could bring yourself to wear a roll neck instead of one of your button ups,
you might not have to wear the makeup.”

“Who do you take me for? Kipps?” Lockwood grinned.

“I take offence at that. There’s nothing wrong with my roll necks. My gran says they’re
dashing.” I jumped as Quill Kipps spoke and settled into his chair across from the couch.
True to form, he was wearing a roll neck.

“Well, your gran is contractually obligated to say that.”

Kipps blushed. “Be careful what you say. Your girlfriend is wearing one, too.”

“Yeah, but Lucy could wear a potato sack and she’d still look fit.”

I blushed and nudged him in the ribs. “Bet you’d look better.”
Kipps flopped back in his chair and groaned. “Oh god. It’s worse. How is it worse?”

“Hey,” Lockwood started when George and Holly walked in.

George settled into the chair next to the couch and immediately busied himself with making
tea and loading his plate with an assortment of doughnuts.

Holly sat down on the other side of Lockwood and opened her makeup kit she kept at the
house for emergencies. She tipped Lockwood’s head out of the way and started working on
his neck. “Ms Bailey should be here any time. And Lockwood, True Hauntings called.”

Although Holly seemed calm, everyone else reacted to the news. George fumbled his
doughnut, Kipps spit a bit of tea on his lap, and Lockwood grabbed my hand. I stared at
Holly and clutched at Lockwood’s hand.

“True Hauntings? You’re sure?” Lockwood asked.

“Hold still, Lockwood. Yes, I’m quite sure. I dealt with Rachel Morris several times at
Rotwell’s. She’s the real deal. Apparently, your Mr Jones has some connections at the
magazine. He called them this morning to recommend a feature on his ghost. They haven’t
decided they’ll do a whole feature, or just a small article, but Rachel wants to do an initial
interview with you and Lucy. I’ve scheduled it for tomorrow afternoon. If they decide to
make it a longer article, I’m sure they’ll also be wanting to schedule photo sessions and a
longer interview, too. With the agency’s popularity, I wouldn’t be surprised if they do decide
on the feature length.” Holly sat back and repacked her kit.

I grimaced. “Ugh. I really don’t want to take pictures.”

Lockwood squeezed my hand and smiled. “I’m sure it would be negotiable, but I’d love to
see you in a magazine feature. I think you’d look spectacular.”

“Right. There’s a reason you’re the one they always feature in the newspaper pictures.”

“That’s just because I’m the agency head. If they were selecting pictures based solely on the
attractiveness of the subject, they’d all be of you.”

“That is so not true.”

The doorbell rang, and Kipps leapt to his feet. “I’ll get it.” He strode quickly from the room
and I could hear him muttering all the way to the door.

George cleared his throat and took off his glasses to rub the lenses. “I know it’s first day
euphoria and all, but you two might want to tone it down a bit while the client is here.”

Holly was smiling serenely. “Oh, George. They’ll behave. After all, the other option is that
Lucy and Kipps switch spots for future interviews.”

I dropped Lockwood’s hand and scooted closer to the arm of the couch just in time for Kipps
to return with our new client. I could do this. I could. It was just one interview.
Half an hour later, I had managed to stay in my corner of the couch. I had managed to not say
anything embarrassing. What I had not managed to do was absorb anything about the new
case. I had been so distracted by Lockwood that I couldn’t have even said what the client
looked like. Oh well. I’m sure George would be telling us anything important in the briefing
before the case.

“Lucy, what do you think?” George asked.

“Oh, um, about what?” I asked very intelligently.

“The new case?”

“Oh. Uh, I think it sounds really interesting.”

“Really?” George asked flatly. He turned to Holly. “I told you she wasn’t paying attention.”

I blushed. “Um, was it not interesting?”

“It really wasn’t, Luce. That’s okay though. You didn’t miss anything,” Lockwood grinned at
me.

Kipps walked back into the room. “That’s Ms Bailey on her way. Are we starting the meeting
now? Or taking a break for lunch?”

Lockwood coughed. “Let’s do the meeting first. I wanted to take Lucy out somewhere for
lunch. That’s okay, right, Luce?”

“Well, as long as she’s back for our tea date,” Holly sniffed. She turned to George and Kipps.
“You were both planning on sticking around for lunch, right? I made a casserole.”

“Of course, Hol,” George reassured her. “Um, it’s got cheese?”

“Oh, yes. And spinach, quinoa, and chicken. Susan found the recipe last week, and it was so
delicious that I just had to share it with you all,” Holly beamed.

“Ah, well, I’m sure it’s very healthy.”

“I’m not one to turn down a free lunch. Even if it’s quinoa,” Kipps said dourly.

“Okay. Let’s stay on topic so we can wrap this up quickly. Do you want Lucy and I to go first
with the details from the case last night? Or do you all want to tell me whatever was so
complicated that George couldn’t tell me this morning?”

George, Holly, and Kipps shared a glance among themselves. “You’d best go first.”
 Chapter 8
Chapter Summary

George, Holly, and Kipps make the big reveal about their case the previous night.
Lockwood takes Lucy out for lunch. Wait, was this a date?

Lockwood summed up our case from the night before. He conveniently skimmed over the
part where we both ignored the fire starting to snog each other senseless. At the revelation
that the cluster had been a mother and her murdered newborns, Holly gasped and George
cursed.

“Damn it. I missed it. I knew there was something strange about that couple, but I missed it.”

“Mr Jones was right,” Holly said quietly. “I think the magazine will want to do a feature on
this one. It’s absolutely horrible.”

“Well, at least it’s over,” Lockwood said brusquely. “Now, how about you three tell us about
your night?”

“Are you certain?” Lockwood was pacing back and forth.

“Completely,” said George. “No mistaking him really.”

“But that’s fascinating. What are the odds?”

“Well, yes, but more importantly, the case isn’t done. Should we phone Mrs Jenkins and tell
her we can’t do it?”

“Nonsense. Are we the best bloody agency in London or not? There’s no way we’re telling
Mrs Jenkins to find someone else. Especially not with a True Hauntings interview coming
up,” Lockwood muttered. “Holly, you ring her to let her know that we’ll be back after we
finish with some further research. Offer her some extra protections for her and her twins at
discount prices, cheap as we can afford to go. Offer them as rentals if that’s the best we can
do. George, you’ve got two more days for research and then we come up with a new plan. I
want to head back on Friday. And make sure you talk to Flo. She might know something
about what the Relic Men managed to nick from Fittes House in the chaos. We just need a
better idea of what his Source might be. If we take the whole team, I know we can handle it.
You three did amazing last night, and I’m proud that you all got out of there okay, but the
team is much stronger if we are all there.”
George took his glasses off and polished the lenses. “I still think it’s a mistake. None of the
other agencies is going to have had a personal history with Rupert Gale. It might well be
easier for one of them.”

“Ah, but we have information about him that no one else has. We’ll be fine.”

“Lockwood, he had a personal vendetta against us all, but especially you. Don’t you think
that obsession will be dangerous?”

“We also know his personality and fighting patterns from when he was alive. I think it will
balance out. Now, as long as you three have given me all of the details from last night, I think
my decision is sound. We will go back prepared, with a full team, and take care of Mr Gale
for what is hopefully the last time. Questions? I think it’s time for lunch.” Lockwood grinned
his megawatt smile.

“Wait,” I said. “Wasn’t there a different reason for this meeting? You scheduled it last week.”

Lockwood waved his hand. “Oh, that can wait. Holly, pencil in another company meeting a
week from now. Oh, and can you find out if True Hauntings will want to take a picture of the
Source? I was planning on taking it to the furnaces this afternoon, but it can wait.”

“Hmm, usually they like to get that if it’s available. I’ll ring Rachel to ask, just to be sure.”

“Thanks, Hol.” Lockwood clapped his hands. “Well, you all enjoy Holly’s delightful
casserole. Lucy and I are going out. Back by two give you plenty of time for your tea date,
you two?” I shrugged, and Holly nodded. “George, Kipps, I’m sure you’ll be gone by then.
See you this evening.”

“Of course. You two have fun,” Holly smiled.

Lockwood grabbed my hand and hurried us out the door. “Need to grab anything?”

“Just my wallet. Rapier’s by the front door.”

“You won’t need your wallet. Let’s go.”

“Lockwood, I want my wallet.”

“Oh, fine.” He pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. “Front door in five, then?”

“Perfect.”

I dashed upstairs, not sure if five minutes was perfect. I had stopped taking my wallet on
cases a while back. It was one thing to lose a few quid to perils of the job. But the
government workers started to get a bit miffed when I went in for my third ID replacement in
as many months. Now, I just carried my Agent’s certification card and some spare cash.
Luckily, I found the wallet quickly today. I had actually left it somewhere reasonable for once
after my outings with Holly.
I made my way back downstairs as Lockwood came out of the loo. Smiling, he held out his
hand. “Ready?”

“Yes,” I smiled back.

Lockwood ushered us out the front door and laced his fingers with mine as soon as we were
past the gate. He led us down the path and I realised I had no idea where we were going.
“Hey. What are we having for lunch?” I asked.

“Oh. Right. I wanted to take you to this Thai place that my parents loved. I remembered your
flat in Tooting had all of those Thai takeaway containers, and it made me want to share this
with you.”

I blushed. One part embarrassment over what my flat had looked like when Lockwood
visited me in Tooting, one part pleased at him sharing a bit more of himself with me.

“It’s within walking distance, then?”

“Oh, yes.”

“But I haven’t been there before?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think so. I haven’t even shared it with George.”

I couldn’t help my smile. He was actually sharing something special with me if it was a place
that offered takeaway and he had avoided George finding it. I was staring up at him when I
realised something. “Lockwood, you washed off the makeup!”

“Of course. You’re the one that said I could after the client interview.”

“That was before I knew we were going out!” I hissed. “Those are obviously love bites,
Lockwood!”

“I know,” he grinned at me. “And here I am, out with my gorgeous girlfriend. What’s the
problem? I don’t have to be official right now.”

I groaned. “That is so not the point.”

“Well, look at it this way. Maybe it’ll keep the waitress from hitting on me.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Is that a problem you usually have?”

“Um, sometimes?” Lockwood looked a bit sheepish.

“Is that the real reason you’ve never brought George and me to this place?”

“Nonsense. Now, Tracey is a wonderful waitress, even if she can be a bit intense. I’m sure
you’ll get along, and even if you don’t, you’ll never have to deal with her for longer than a
meal.”
“Right,” I snorted.

“Ah, here we are.” Lockwood said five minutes later. He held open the door to a small
fragrant restaurant, and I sniffed appreciatively as we walked through the door. It smelled
even better than the Thai place next to my Tooting flat, and I had eaten that for multiple
meals a day during my time there.

“Lockwood,” an abrasively chirpy voice called, and a young woman bustled over. She was
wearing something that was surely not appropriate for work, with a short skirt and a low cut
top, and I struggled not to scowl. She came to an abrupt halt as she came close enough to see
our entwined hands and narrowed her eyes at Lockwood’s neck. “Who’s this then?” she
asked with a noticeable drop in enthusiasm.

“This,” Lockwood drew me forward, “is my girlfriend, Lucy. I had no idea she liked Thai or I
would have brought her by years ago.” He was leaving out a few key facts there, and lying
about not knowing I liked Thai, but I nodded and went along with it. I had no desire to get on
the wrong side of this girl.

“Right,” she said a bit flatly, glaring at me. “Your normal table’s open at the back, and I
suppose it’ll seat two.” She grimaced. “Might be a bit snug.”

“Oh, I’m sure Luce and I will manage. We’re used to eating together after all,” Lockwood
grinned, and Tracey’s glare at me managed to somehow increase in intensity.

“Right. Well, I take it she’ll need a menu?” Tracey asked disdainfully.

“Oh, no. I’ll just take my usual, and Lucy will have the Pad See Ew with chicken. Oh, and
two Thai teas. No sugar in mine; you know how I like it. Extra sugar for Lucy.” I stared at
him. He had just given Tracey my preferred Thai order from my stint in Tooting, and I had no
idea how he’d done it.

Tracey sniffed. “Fine then. Food’ll be about ten minutes. I’ll bring the teas by when I have a
minute.”

“Thanks, Tracey. Sounds great,” Lockwood said as he led me to a secluded table at the back.
There were, in fact, two chairs, but the table was not truly big enough for both of them.
Tracey hadn’t been kidding.

I looked around as I sat down in the chair with my back to the door, knowing that Lockwood
would prefer the one against the wall. “So, your parents loved this place, huh?”

Unexpectedly, Lockwood blushed. “They, uh, they actually had their first date here. I know
we did things a bit out of order, but I always pictured myself bringing you here for our first
date. It’s why I never showed it to you or George.”

I felt a responding blush spreading across my face. Suddenly, this all made a lot more sense,
except for one thing. “Oh,” I said eloquently. I reached across the table and squeezed his
hand. “I’m glad you saved it for this. It seems like a really special place.” There. That was a
bit better. I looked around the restaurant some more, taking in the tables, the pictures from a
foreign land, all of the scents.

Lockwood looked relieved. “I think you’ll really like the food. It’s some of my favourite.”

“Um, I do have a question, though.”

“Hmm?”

“How did you know my Thai order? It’s not like I’ve ever got it at Portland Row.”

“Ah. That.” He looked a bit sheepish and the tips of his ears were going pink. “Remember
when Holly and I went over to get things from your flat? I saw some of your receipts.”

“Lockwood, that was a year and a half ago.”

“Yes, well, I did say I always pictured bringing you here. Ah. Here comes Tracey with the
teas.”

Tracey carefully set Lockwood’s tea in front of him and kind of slapped mine down on the
table. Miraculously, none of it spilled. She simpered at Lockwood, scowled at me, and left
again.

“My parents used to bring me and Jess here. Whenever they got back from a trip, they always
wanted to catch up, not cook, so we’d come here. I don’t think Jess stepped foot in here after
they died, but I always loved it, so I started coming again after I got the house back. It helps
me remember all of the stories they told us over our meals here. It’s somehow easier than
remembering in the house sometimes.”

I was still holding his hand, and now I laced our fingers together.

“Well,” I smiled gently, “they do say that scent is a strong trigger for memory. The scent of
the restaurant must be tied in to all of those memories.”

“Ah. I suppose the house does smell quite different to how it did when I was young. Maybe
you’re right.”

“I suppose there must have been a time you smelled like talc, or that baby shampoo, but I
can’t imagine you smelling differently,” I said shyly, hoping to guide the conversation into
lighter waters.

“Oh?” Lockwood arched an eyebrow. “And what do I smell like?”

“Hmm. Give me a minute. I’ve never tried to quantify it.” I closed my eyes and thought of
my favourite memories of him. “Chain oil, iron, gunpowder, strong tea, toast, and lavender.
Depending on the coat, leather or wool.” I opened my eyes. “I think those are the main ones.
Some combination thereof usually sets me to mooning over you if you’re not there.” My
embarrassment was a small sacrifice if it made him smile and Lockwood was grinning.
“Shall I catalogue your scent?”

“Oh, no. Please. I’m sure it’s a mess.”

“You, Lucy Carlyle, always smell like lavender and sugar, with an undercurrent of
gunpowder, chain oil, iron, and,” he tugged on my hand until I leaned forward to whisper in
my ear, “your pussy smells like heaven.”

“Oh my god.”

Tracey chose that moment to clear her throat behind me, and I almost fell out of my chair. I
just knew that I was beet red.

“Ah. The food’s arrived. Thank you, Tracey. Looks amazing as always.”

I didn’t trust myself to say anything as Tracey loaded the tiny table with our plates, smiled at
Lockwood, and flounced away.

“Lockwood,” I hissed, “you cannot just say things like that in public!”

“Nobody heard me,” he waved it off. “Besides, I like seeing you all flustered. It’s quite
attractive, to be honest.”

I sputtered. “You do realise that I will find a way to get you back,” I said once I was capable
of speech.

“I would expect nothing less,” Lockwood smiled serenely. “Now, try your dish. I’m eager to
hear how it compares to what you’ve had.” Lockwood ate some of his curry, and watched me
eagerly.

Tentatively, I built a perfect bite of noodle, chicken, and veg. I popped it in my mouth and my
eyes went wide as I chewed. “Oh. That’s really good. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out
on us. Do we get to tell George about it now?”

Lockwood laughed. “I suppose we should. Don’t really have an excuse now. Well, eat up. I
was going to order dessert. They have a really excellent mango sticky rice I think you’ll like.
Care to share with me?”

I nodded. “Whatever you like. It must be good if you’re recommending it.”

“Great.” He flagged down Tracey, and she sauntered over. “I’ve decided to have dessert
today. Can you put that in for me?”

“Of course,” she smiled only for him. “Just the one, then?” She gave me the side eye.

“Yes, please,” he said, and Tracey beamed. “We’ll need two spoons though,” Lockwood
smiled. Tracey’s smile fell.

“Of course. I’ll let Cook know and bring it out whenever you’re ready to get rid of some
plates.” She stomped away, presumably to the kitchen.
“Well,” Lockwood gave a good impression of not noticing anything off, “shall we finish our
meal? I had another stop I wanted to make before we get you home for that tea with Holly.”
Lockwood smiled, and I decided to forget about our waitress. At least for now.

Thirty minutes later we were back outside, but this time I thought I might recognise where
we were going. Lockwood had stopped to buy a posy of out-of-season flowers I didn’t
recognise and tucked a single stem behind my ear. I could feel the small petals brushing my
cheekbone. We were getting close to a certain inner-city graveyard that Lockwood had shown
me before, and I squeezed Lockwood’s fingers.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like it worked.”

“Hmm? Like what worked?”

“Keeping the waitress from hitting on you.”

“Oh. No. It worked. Usually she’s much more obvious.”

“More obvious?” I squeaked. “How? Does she normally strip down to her knickers and
dance?”

“No,” Lockwood chuckled. “She normally uses a lot of pet names and gets much too close
when she comes to the table. I think I know the colours of most of her bras by now. Well, that
and she tries to give me her number on the receipt. I just always leave it on the table and
pretend I didn’t see it.” He frowned. “Last time she tried to tuck it in my coat pocket. She
didn’t do any of that, so I’d say it was a roaring success,” he smiled down at me.

I grumbled something about keeping him cooped up at home, but he just laughed. “You know
that Tracey hates me, right? That didn’t escape your keen observational skills?” I asked.

“Oh, she’ll get over it. I’ll bring you around a few more times, and she’ll soon be treating you
like one of the regulars. Ah, here we are. You remember how to get over? See you in a
moment.” He kissed my cheek and was over the wall in a flash of whipping coattails.

I sighed. It was a good thing I’d twigged where we were going a while ago, or I’d be quite
miffed right now. I managed to scramble up and over with only a minor loss in dignity when
my jumper tried to snag on a dead vine.

Lockwood was waiting for me at the bottom of the wall and led me down the narrow trail to
his family plot. I found myself smiling at our entwined fingers.

We stepped out into the space Lockwood kept cleared around his family’s graves and I
quietly caught my breath. The empty grave was becoming overgrown. There could not have
been a clearer indication that Lockwood had stopped obsessing about when he would be
joining his family, and it ignited a small glow in my chest.

“I know they’re not really here more than they are anywhere else, but I wanted to introduce
you to my family as my girlfriend instead of just the girl I was hopelessly pining over.”
“It’s fine, Lockwood,” I smiled softly.

He squeezed my hand and left my side to step over the iron rail and place the flowers. He set
a few at his parents’ grave but put most of the posy on Jessica’s. “They were her favourite.
Purple asters. She liked lavender as well, of course, but she said that asters just got to be
flowers. There didn’t have to be some other purpose to them.” The winter light caught on the
white streak in his flop of dark hair as he turned to me.

My breath caught as I held out a hand to him. “Ready to head home, then?”

“Yeah.”

We took our time on the way back to Portland Row, watching the few people out and about. I
was basking in the feeling of just relaxing with Lockwood, not examining every interaction
for subtext, or wondering if I was making him uncomfortable. Lockwood seemed to be
enjoying himself, too, but we were almost home. I could see our corner just ahead.

Abruptly, he yanked me into a shadowed alcove and crowded me up against the wall. A hand
behind my head cushioned me from cracking my head against the bricks. “Sorry. It’s going to
be busy once we’re back, and I needed to do this.”

I lost myself in Lockwood’s kiss, his lips, his hands, his body pressed against mine. Before I
was ready, he pulled back and rested his forehead against mine. “We’ve got to get you back.
Holly will be waiting. But I’ll see you for rapier practice?”

“Yeah. Of course,” I said. “Wait, what?”

“Rapier practice. The thing we have every day about four o’clock?”

“Yes. Right. I’m sure Holly and I will be back in time.”

“Make sure you are,” Lockwood grinned and pulled me out of the alcove.

Twenty minutes later, Holly and I were back at Rose’s and I was determined to actually enjoy
what Holly called pain au chocolat. I was almost certain it was just a chocolate stuffed
croissant, but it had smelled really good last time.

We settled down at the same table as last time, and Holly didn’t wait for our order to arrive
before she started in on the questions. “Well, what happened last night? Obviously, I know
you spent the night with him, but how did that even happen? When I left last night, you two
weren’t even talking normally!”

I began the painstaking process of trying to tell Holly about the previous night with enough
detail to satisfy her, but little enough to maintain some of my dignity. I’d never had such
things to share with a girlfriend, but Holly was a good listener, asking questions when I
faltered, reacting at all of the right points. I even managed to eat a bit of my pastry while it
was warm.

“Oh, I can’t believe he said that. You two are so dramatic.” She was beaming, so I was fairly
certain it wasn’t a dig at us, but I still flushed in embarrassment. “Do you think you two
would be willing to go on a double date with Susan and me sometime? She’s really been
wanting to get to know you guys better.”

“Oh, uh, sure. Just talk to Lockwood about it.” I wasn’t about to tell her that I had no idea
what a double date entailed, having just been on my first singular date today, but I trusted
Lockwood to know what he was getting us into. I looked at my watch.

“Shoot! Holly, I’m going to be late for rapier training and I promised we’d be back in time
for it. We should go.” Holly gathered up her things and we were on our way in record time.

“So,” she said once we were settled in the cab. “Rapier practice, hm?”

“Yes. Lockwood was quite insistent for some reason.”

“Oh, I can think of a few reasons that he would be eager to get up close and sweaty with his
new girlfriend,” Holly was grinning at me again.

“Hush! Lockwood takes training very seriously, you know.” I looked out the window to avoid
Holly’s raised eyebrows.

Soon enough, we were pulling up to the house. I paused outside the door. “Thanks for tea,
Holly. I guess I’m just not used to having a girlfriend to talk to about such things. Norrie back
home, she sometimes went on dates, but she died when she was fifteen, and I never…”

Holly interrupted me with a sudden hug. “It’s okay. I’m glad you can talk to me about this
now. And I’m here anytime you want to chat, but you just tell me if I’m being too much. And
I’m happy to share stories about Susan if it makes you feel like things are less one sided.
Now, I think you have an appointment to get all hot and sweaty with your boyfriend, so get
going. I’ll see you later.” She winked and swept into the house to do whatever she normally
did during rapier practice. I shook myself and ran inside to get changed and down to the
basement.
 Chapter 9
Chapter Summary

Rapier practice, upsetting George, and more.

Chapter Notes

Hello, everyone. Sorry for the delay in updating. My beta got really busy and hasn't been
available to give me any feedback lately, and I was really stuck on a scene. Add that to
the holidays, and it has been much too long!
Now that we are done with the holidays, I'm hoping to have time for more regular
updates.
As a special Happy New Years, here's a new chapter, complete with smut.

Lockwood was even more distracting than usual in his workout gear, with a thin sheen of
sweat on his brow and a grin on his lips. I kept finding myself staring at his hands, his mouth,
his thighs in those damn workout leggings. To be fair, he wasn’t wearing anything different
from any other day. I just seemed to be highly sensitised to every quirk of his lips or shift of
his muscles under his skin tight clothes.

Last Christmas, George’s mother had gifted us all some trendy new workout gear. I was
pretty sure George had binned his, and I knew mine was buried at the back of my armoire,
but Lockwood had really taken to the compression shirts and leggings, especially in the
colder months when the practice room in the basement was chilly. He always wore some
shorts and usually some kind of sleeveless shirt over the top, but it still left very little to the
imagination. I cursed as he disarmed me again.

“You seem distracted today, Luce,” Lockwood smirked, tossing my sword back to me.

I managed to catch it with a minimum of fumbling and went on the attack. “Can’t imagine
why. It’s not like you might as well be prancing around in the nude.”

“You weren’t having this problem two days ago.”

“Yeah, well, two days ago, I wasn’t intimately acquainted with everything under those
clothes. And why the hell aren’t you having a problem with being distracted?”

“I figured out how to fight with you distracting me years ago. Had to, or we never would’ve
made it out of some of those haunted houses.”
Lockwood bound my blade and pinned me up against one of the pillars to speak into my ear.
“You, my dear, are sex on legs with a rapier in your hands.”

“And how long have you waited to use that terrible line on me?”

“It’s true though. Would you care to feel just how much you affect me?” He pressed into me,
and I groaned at the feel of his erection.

“Is this why you always wear those shorts on top of these ridiculously tight trousers to
workout?”

He nipped at my ear, and I squirmed in his grasp. “Yes. Have to maintain some veneer of
professionalism. Especially in front of George.”

“I’m fairly certain this is breaking the spirit of George’s new rules.”

“Oh please. He finished practice before you and Holly got back from tea. I’m sure he’s still
taking his time in the shower.”

“I think you’ll find that you’re getting things a bit confused.” Lockwood jerked away from
me at the sound of George’s voice. “You’re the one who always takes so long in the shower
after rapier drills. One could almost say suspiciously long.”

“George. Didn’t see you there.”

“Yes, well, you were a bit busy staring at Lucy, so I suppose I can see how you would have
missed me coming back in. Except, no, I don’t. I even made extra noise stomping down the
steps! You’d best get this out of your systems before it gets us all killed on the next case. I do
not want my obituary to read ‘killed by a Ghost when his best mates couldn’t control their
libidos’!”

“Ah, well, you’re exactly right. We’ll just get on that then.”

“What? Hey. Give me back my rapier.”

“Nope. George’s orders, Luce. You heard him. We need to get it out of our systems before
tonight’s case.”

“Hey. You haven’t got me those headphones yet!”

“Just turn the radio on, George. I’m sure you’ll figure something out. After all, what’s more
important? Your neck or your precious ears?”

Lockwood was laughing as he pulled me up the spiral stairs to the kitchen, where he slowed
down. “Sorry, Luce. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want, but we’ve practised
enough for the day, and I couldn’t help teasing George.”

“Shut up. Your room or mine? Only mine might be a bit of a mess just now.” This was an
understatement. After yesterday’s efforts to dress up, then hardly being in the room for the
last 24 hours, my attic was a tip. I really needed to spend some time picking up before
Holly’s next scheduled vacuuming.

“Mine’s good, it’s closer anyway.”

We barely got Lockwood’s door closed before he was kissing me. Frantically, I scrambled for
the hems of his shirts. He brushed my hands away and stripped the shirts off himself before I
could get him tangled in the restrictive fabric.

“Every time. Every goddamn time we fence, I can hardly keep my hands to myself. I thought
it might be better knowing I could touch you later. Bloody hell, was I wrong.”

“You were the one wearing the provocative outfit. I’m just in sweats.”

“You have no idea how sexy you are in sweats. Come here.” Lockwood led me over to his
armchair and sat down, then tugged on my hand until I was straddling his lap. “If we’ve got
half an hour, I’m not wasting it on talking, Lucy."

He pulled me into a heated kiss and I mentally gave up on the thought of a long shower. If it
was a choice between extra time under the hot water and snogging Lockwood, I knew what
my choice was. It wasn’t even close.

Ten hours later, we all stumbled through the front door. Lockwood and I collapsed on the
stairs, and George leaned back against the front door.

“I’m putting my foot down. You guys figure this out before Friday, or one of you stays home
for Mrs Jenkins’ case on Friday. For the record, my vote is Lockwood.” George pushed
himself off the door. “Now, if you two lovesick idiots can move, I am hopping in the shower.
Someone get the crisps and cocoa going, because I need sustenance after that debacle.”

Lockwood and I made a path for George to get past us, and then I sheepishly looked at
Lockwood. “Well, I suppose he’s right. That could have gone better.”

Lockwood snorted. “That’s one way to put it. Sorry about hitting you with the chain. Is your
head okay?” He reached up and touched the edge of my goose egg with gentle fingers.

I winced, and Lockwood jerked his hand away. “I’ll be fine. I don’t think I’m bleeding. An
ice pack and some paracetamol and I should be all good. Let’s get that cocoa started before
George gets done. Maybe the carbs and chocolate will put him in a better mood with us.” I
kissed him on the cheek and stood to head to the kitchen.
Three mugs of cocoa and two bags of his favourite crisps later, George was indeed calmer.
“You two need to talk, so I’m going to bed. And I mean it. Talk. Don’t just snog each other
senseless or whatever you’ve been doing.”

Lockwood and I washed up in awkward silence. “Well,” I said when we’d dried the last mug.
“Your room?”

“Yeah.” Lockwood was avoiding my gaze and it hurt. Even though I thought I knew what the
problem was, I wasn’t sure if he would open up to me about it. I was hoping that he would
feel like he could, but everything was so new.

We got to his room, and he sat on the bed while I shut the door. Turning and leaning against
the door, I looked him over. “Are you alright? You’ve never panicked and tried to pull me out
of a Touch loop that fast before.”

Lockwood winced and looked down at his hands. “Ah, well, I think I’m having some issues.
You know everyone I’ve lost. I think a part of me feels like now that we’re together, I’m
going to lose you, too. Like I’ve put a big target on your back for whatever powers-that-be
that took everyone else.”

I crossed to the bed and settled down next to him. Taking his hand, I traced his fingers. If eye
contact was too hard for him right now, I wouldn’t push. “Power hungry megalomaniacs
murdered your parents, and Jessica was the victim of tragedy and a lack of training for how
to deal with Visitors. We took care of the megalomaniacs, and I deal with Visitors every day.
With you and George watching my back, I feel pretty safe.” I laced my fingers with his and
peeked up at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. We made it through Marissa Fittes and
Ezekiel. What’s a little old Type Two next to that?”

“My parents and Jess, that’s not everyone. I suppose I never told you about Sykes.”
Lockwood closed his eyes. “I suppose you should know.”

“You told me he’s the one who trained you. He entered you in that fencing competition you
lost to Flo. I guess I always hoped you’d tell me more when you were ready.”

“Sykes took me on after I lost Jessica. He knew I had what it takes after he heard about what
happened. He just turned up on the doorstep and asked if I wanted to focus my anger on the
ones who deserved it. Visitors. I had been spiralling. I didn’t have any family left, so there
was talk of sending me to an orphanage. I couldn’t see a reason to stay instead of joining my
family, and nobody had been able to get through to me. Sykes showing up at the door saved
me from all of that. An apprenticeship with an agency was legal enough for the few people
concerned with my welfare to back off. He gave me a home and, more importantly, a
purpose.”

“I never got up the courage to ask if he knew my parents, but sometimes I wondered.
Anyway, yeah. He trained me. It was a very small agency. Sykes didn’t believe in doing it for
the profit. He’d been a crack agent himself back in the day. Specialised in rapier work and
Sight, so we were a good fit. It was usually just me, Sykes, and one older agent on cases. We
were good. Sykes had the right balance of daring and wariness. Mandy had been with him
since she was eight, and was one of the best agents I ever met. Towards the end though she
was 19 and losing her Talents, so we had started looking for a replacement field agent.
Mandy was working on her Supervisor training so that Sykes wouldn’t need to go on all the
jobs.”

“That night, the night it happened, Mandy wanted to come, but she had a Supervisor exam.
Sykes said that she couldn’t miss it. We thought that it would be okay. Sykes had interviews
lined up for the next day, and he said that a few cases with just us would be fine. He had such
faith in me.”

“We went on the case, and I was eager to prove myself to Sykes. Prove that I could be the
lead agent. I made a stupid mistake. I’m not sure how he could tell what was happening.
Sykes was old, older than Barnes even, but his Sight when he was young was strong. So
strong. He must have still had enough Sight to See that I was in danger. Or maybe it was just
a sixth sense he had learned in the field. He pushed me out of the way, and I tumbled down a
flight of iron stairs. All that iron is probably what saved me, but I hit my head on the way
down. Sykes didn’t carry a rapier, and mine went down the stairs with me. He didn’t have
anything but the bag of extra gear. Whatever Sight he still had wasn’t enough to keep him
safe. When I woke up, the Visitor was gone and Sykes was dead.”

“We always carried adrenaline. Sykes was a stickler for it, but I wasn’t awake to give it to
him in time. They said the ghost-touch triggered a heart attack. He had a bad heart, see. But I
know if I hadn’t screwed up, hell, if I’d just been conscious, I could have saved him.
Adrenaline can help with heart stuff too, right? It haunts me. That he died alone, even though
I was so close. I should have been able to save him. But that’s why I won’t work with adult
supervisors. Plenty of them are garbage, yeah, but even the good ones like Sykes. They can’t
protect themselves.”

Lockwood looked at me now, and I could see the old pain and desperation in his eyes. “Sure,
I didn’t get my parents killed, and Jessica wasn’t completely my fault, I guess, but Sykes.
Sykes was my fault. He and Mandy were my family after mine was gone, and I got Sykes
killed, and Mandy blamed herself for not being there. She left agency work entirely. Left
London to go stay with an aunt up in Scotland. I haven’t seen her in years. Sends me
Christmas cards, but that night was when I lost my second family.”

“How old were you?” I kept my voice gentle. Historically, Lockwood would shut himself
away from me and deflect after telling me things about his past, and I let him. That wouldn’t
work this time.

He looked away. “Thirteen. I threw myself into getting the house back from the bank, starting
the agency. Focusing my rage on ghosts had got me through it once before. It was all I could
think of. I got everything lined up, found George, later we hired Robin. Robin didn’t last that
long. He had an excellent CV, was friendly, skilled with a rapier. I thought we’d really lucked
out. Then he ran off that roof because he got startled. I know I screwed up, shouldn’t have put
him on that side of the roof. If he’d run off the side with the river, he might have been fine.
But that’s why we added the skull to our interview the second go-round.”

“Lockwood, hey.” I needed to bring him out of his spiral. “You were not responsible for
Sykes, or for Robin. Sykes was an adult. You were thirteen. I’m sorry he’s gone, but I’m not
sorry that he saved you. I’m sure he felt the same. You are not responsible for his death any
more than I am responsible for my old team’s. And you and George were quite certain that
was not my fault, if you’ll recall. And Robin, it’s not your fault that he ran off a roof. You
know that, right?”

“On my good days, on days that everything is going well, I know that. But then there’s bad
days, and I can’t convince myself that I don’t have all of this death on my head. It’s why
Kipps’ jibes used to cut so deep. Because I do feel like I get people killed, just being around
me. And tonight, all of this is so new, and then you sounded like you were in pain, and I just,
I panicked. I ignored every logical thought telling me that you were fine and panicked. And
in doing so, I endangered the entire team. George is right. It’s unforgivable.”

“But we’re all fine. And we will figure this out. You just need to convince yourself that I am
not going anywhere, right? My Talents are still strong, and I don’t have a bad heart. You
aren’t going to lose me like Sykes. And I think I’ve proven that I am not going to run off of
any roofs. At least not without holding your hand.” I grinned crookedly and Lockwood
barked out a laugh.

“Just reckless enough, huh?” He cupped my face and stroked a cheek with his thumb.

“Just reckless enough.” I agreed. “Think we’ve done enough of that talking George
prescribed? Because I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think we’re good,” Lockwood breathed.

As usual, Lockwood’s kisses scrambled my thoughts. I found myself on my back, with him
kneeling over me, knees on either side of my hips, kissing his way down my throat. I
squirmed, pressing my thighs together. Already, I was wet. Lockwood slipped a hand under
my skirt and touched me over my knickers and tights, rubbing small circles into my wet heat.
He moaned. “Lucy. Luce, do you care about these tights?”

“No?”

“Good.” His fingers found the small hole in the crotch that I had forgotten about. He deftly
ripped the tights, pushed my knickers to the side, and sank a finger into my dripping core.
“You’re soaking. Is this all for me?”

I nodded jerkily.

“Can I help you cum? I want to watch you.”

“Bloody hell. Yes. Yes, please.”

Lockwood’s tongue danced with mine, even as he stroked me closer to orgasm with his
fingers. Soon, I was gasping, clutching at him as I writhed on his fingers.

“That’s it. Cum for me. You’re so beautiful when you lose control, Lucy.”
I couldn’t reply, reduced to a panting mess, as Lockwood licked his fingers clean. He was
looking at me like I was his entire world, and I was certain that I looked wild-eyed and
desperate. He cupped my face in his hands and peppered my nose and cheekbones with kisses
as I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. I opened them to find him smiling. “Good?”

“My turn.” I sat up and pushed him onto his back. Kneeling to his side, I started working on
his belt buckle.

“Here,” Lockwood moved my hands aside and made quick work of the task. I had better luck
with the button and slid down the zipper. He pushed his trousers down his hips and I bit my
lip at the sight of the bulge in his trunks. I reached out a finger to trace his hard length.

“Is this all for me, then?”

“Always. Always for you, Luce.” Lockwood grinned.

I pulled down his trunks and his cock sprang free, bobbing heavily. He hissed. Reaching out,
I wrapped my hand around the base and leaned forward to take him in my mouth. I started
licking and sucking, taking him as deeply as I could before hitting the back of my throat.
Slightly gagging, I started creating a slow rhythm of drawing up to lick the head and slipping
back down until my lips met my hand, pumping the shaft. I could tell a difference in this
angle, and thought perhaps I was able to take his cock a bit deeper than last time.

“Fuck, Luce.” His fingers carded through my hair. When I moaned, his fingers clenched
against my scalp. “That’s so good. You’re so good at that. You like that? You like sucking me
off? Oh my god. Watching your lips wrapped around my cock is so hot.” His hand in my hair
started moving my head up and down faster. Just like the previous night, I gave into it, letting
him be in charge of moving my head as I focused on licking and sucking. “Yeah. That’s it.
I’m gonna cum, Lucy. I’m already close. Watching you cum on my fingers got me so hard,
you’ve no idea. Oh shit. Luce. Lucy.” Lockwood’s hand stilled, and this time I didn’t hesitate.
I swallowed as he came, licking at the head to get it all before I sat up.

Lockwood’s eyes were closed, and he was breathing hard. I took the moment to appreciate
him. The dark, thick lashes and high cheekbones, the straight, thin nose. Reaching out, I
traced the line of his jaw. I had one more idea on how to show his subconscious mind that I
was here to stay. There was a chance that he would say no. A chance that he would think that
we should wait. But I knew that I was ready. Virginity was an outdated concept, but even so, I
knew that I would never regret having sex with Lockwood. He already had all of me, even if
he didn’t know it yet. The trick was going to be convincing him without bringing up the fact
that if I died without getting to fuck him, I was almost certain to become a Visitor just based
on that one regret.

While he recovered his senses, I took the opportunity to shimmy out of my clothes. It was a
bit awkward, but at least I wasn’t worried about ripping my tights. They were definitely
going in the bin. I moved to straddle his lap and began unbuttoning his shirt. After the third
button, Lockwood opened his eyes. He just looked at me as I finished. I leaned down and
drew him into a kiss, then moved on to his trousers.

“Something in mind, Luce?” By now, Lockwood was grinning.

“I want to cuddle naked.” I grinned mischievously as Lockwood nodded. “And then I want
you to fuck me.” Lockwood choked. “Of course, it’s kind of up to you how quickly you rile
me back up, but I want to start with some cuddling.”

He sat up, gripping my waist to keep me on his lap instead of in a heap on the floor. “Are you
sure? We don’t have to have sex tonight. There’s no hurry.”

I placed a finger against his lips. “I want you to fuck me. Fast, slow, that’s your decision. I’ve
got plenty of experience with toys. You won’t hurt me. But you’re it for me. I’m all in. I am
not going anywhere, and I think it would be silly to wait to do something we’ve both been
wanting for years. I’ve fantasised about having you in bed for the last three and a half years.
If I have to wait much longer for you to fuck me, things might get drastic.”

Lockwood brushed my bangs back and gently stroked my cheek. “Alright. As long as you’re
sure.” He kissed me softly. “You’re on protection?” I nodded. “What about your head?”

“It’s fine. The ice and paracetamol did the trick.”

“Okay. But is that a challenge I hear about how quickly I can rile you up?”

The cocky prick was grinning again, so I grinned back. “I suppose, since I trust you to take
the time you need, you can consider it a challenge.”

Lockwood’s eyes lit up. “Alright. How do you want to cuddle? Facing me? Little spoon?”

“Little spoon,” I said without hesitation.

Lockwood tipped us back on to the bed, snagging a pillow as we positioned ourselves.

Rolling over, I sighed as I pressed back into his body. His cock nestled snugly against my
arse and Lockwood brushed the hair off my neck and started laying open-mouthed kisses
down my spine. My thoughts scattered and I shuddered. He stretched an arm under me and
reached around to start lightly caressing my breast with his fingertips; the calluses snagging
on my nipples in a delicious sensation. With the other hand, he reached over my hip and drew
a finger through my folds. I arched, straining to press my arse against his now very hard cock
and my breast into his hand. At this rate, I was not going to get much rest before round two.

“You’re already so wet,” He murmured, and the puffs of air and vibrations against the hairs
of my neck had me shuddering against him. “I can’t wait to fill you with my cock. It’s going
to feel so good. Even better than I’ve been imagining all those times I wanked off thinking of
you sleeping up in my old attic room. Although it sounds like you were awake, too. Being
just as dirty. If only I’d known I would have helped you out sooner.”

Lockwood slipped a finger inside and I keened before remembering that the house had
another occupant.

“You don’t want to be loud? I want to hear you.”

“George. Can’t wake George,” I gasped with single-minded concentration.

“Oh. Right. Well then, you keep as quiet as you can. I’ll just keep trying to make you forget
about that.” With that, he let go of my breast to tip my head up and back so he could kiss me.
Even at this awkward angle, I melted into his kiss as he added a second finger to my pussy.
Then he started kissing down my throat and sucking at the join of my neck and shoulder.
Occasionally he added teeth, and between that and the ministrations of his fingers I was soon
trembling.

“Lockwood. I need you. I need your cock, now,” came out far more broken than I intended.
Lockwood just raised himself up and rolled me onto my back, effectively putting himself on
top of me. Supported on only his right arm, he gazed down at me and I could feel myself
blushing. Holy fuck, his one armed push-ups during training sessions were actually good for
something besides showing off and annoying George. I was never going to hear the end of it.

Lockwood used his left hand to position himself at my entrance.

“Ready?” Swirling the head over my clitoris, he waited for my nod, then pressed in.
Lockwood hissed. “Fuck, Lucy. Oh, fuck. You’re so tight and wet.”

Tight it may have been, but due to my personal explorations and his careful ministrations,
there was no pain. The way he filled me was exquisite. I wrapped a leg around his thigh to
draw him in to the hilt, then gyrated my hips. He froze.

“Please, Lockwood. Please, fuck me,” I whimpered.

He drew out almost to the head and then slammed back in. I had been right. The defined head
of his cock felt amazing as it dragged against my walls. My eyes rolled back as my head
thrashed against the pillow. He set up a slow, hard rhythm, using his left hand to flick my
nipples or cup and knead my right breast.

“What do you need, Lucy?” He asked between thrusts, and I whimpered. “Tell me what you
need.”

“Faster,” I gasped. “And talk dirty to me.”

Lockwood repositioned himself so he was supported on both hands and began pounding into
me at a more punishing pace.

“Dirty, huh? God, you’re such a little slut for me. Look at you, taking my cock so well. If I
had my way, we wouldn’t be leaving this bed. I’d just fuck you over and over until my cum
was streaming down your thighs.”

I moaned, so close to another orgasm that my entire body was tingling. “Lockwood. Oh god.
Lockwood.”

“That’s right. How should I fuck you next? On your hands and knees? Up against the wall?
Pressed up against the window so everyone can see your perfect tits bouncing as I pound into
you from behind? I want to fuck you in every room of this house. I want to watch you come
apart on my cock over and over again until you can’t stand.”
I arched my back and softly cried out with the beginning of my orgasm. Lockwood thrust in
completely and ground against me in small circles, stimulating my clit. I writhed against him
and felt his hot, wet cum spurting deep inside me.

As I stilled and refocused on my surroundings, Lockwood gently pulled out his softening
cock and lay back down on his side. He pulled my limp body against him.

“Holy shit, Luce. That was, you were amazing. Bloody hell.”

“That good, huh?” I asked weakly.

“Shut up. I can’t even imagine it getting better than that. I’m like jelly right now, and it looks
like you are, too.”

I smiled. “Yeah. I know what you mean. I think you were doing most of the work, though.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. I could do the same to my hand and the results wouldn’t even be
close. You,” he kissed my nose, “are the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.
Uh, just so you know though, some of that dirty talk…,” he continued, “it sounded hot, but I
don’t really think I’d like letting everyone see while I fucked you. And I think George might
move out if we started having sex all over the house.”

I pulled him down to kiss him softly. “Of course. I think the same, but it was perfect. I’m not
going to hold you to anything you say when you’re talking dirty to me. It just really gets me
off. I’ll let you know if you say anything that actually sounds fun.” I smiled coyly. “Like,
staying in bed with you would be heavenly, but I know we have too many other things to do
right now.”

“Okay, we’ll work on it.”

“If working on it means more of what we just did, you won’t hear me complaining.”

He flicked my nose and grinned. “Good, but for now, I think it’s time to clean up and get to
sleep. Want to use the shower down here?”

“Think there’s room for two?”

“Maybe. Think we can keep our hands to ourselves?”

“I’m sure we can manage,” I grinned. It shouldn’t be too hard. We had years of practice, after
all.
 Chapter 10
Chapter Summary

Barnes finally makes an appearance.

Chapter Notes

Welcome to a new chapter. I'm trying to stick to a biweekly posting schedule. Shout out
to my beta readers for helping me stay on track!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The next morning found Lockwood and me making an emergency trip to supposedly the only
store in London that currently stocked George’s fancy headphones. We had not, in fact, been
able to keep our hands to ourselves, and our lecture from George for disturbing his sleep, not
to mention desecrating a public space, had been particularly blistering given the fact that he
had not recovered his good humour from the debacle on the case just hours before.

He had retaliated by waking us up early and booting us out the door with threats to find his
headphones or be banned to separate rooms. He headed to the Archives at the same time, so I
couldn’t be too upset at the early hour, but nine in the morning was never a time I liked to be
up, let alone out of the house. I yawned.

“Lucy. Luce? Did you hear me?”

“Shoot. Were you saying something? I’m really not awake yet. Couldn’t George have at least
let us have tea before sending us out?” I kicked at the sidewalk and tripped over my own feet.
Lockwood caught my elbow to steady me.

“That’s actually what I was talking about. Do you want to stop for some? There’s a decent
cafė up ahead.”

“Oh, thank god. Get me some caffeine and maybe I can be a functioning person instead of a
zombie.”

Lockwood tucked my hand in the crook of his arm and led the way to a little shop. There was
an awning done in broad black and white stripes, but no other embellishments. We stepped
down a few stairs to a door that simply said ‘Sally’s’ in curly, hand-painted gold. I probably
would have walked right past without noticing it. I certainly wouldn’t have known that it
served tea.
The bell over the door jingled as we stepped inside, and a pretty girl hurried out from behind
a beaded curtain. “Lockwood, good morning.” Her voice was soft and musical. “Can I start
your usual? Who’s this? Did you bring someone to meet me?”

Lockwood sighed. “Sally, this is my girlfriend, Lucy. I’ve told her all about how this is the
best café in the area. I’ll take my usual, and she’ll have a strong cup of tea and a blueberry
doughnut. All to go, I’m afraid.” He held my hand and beamed at Sally.

“Oh. Of course.” Her voice was softer, but no less melodic. “I’ll have those right out, then.”
She disappeared behind the curtain, and I turned to Lockwood with a raised brow. He gave an
imperceptible shake of his head, so I turned to examine the shop. There were only a few
tables with mismatched chairs and a scuffed but clean floor. The register was ornate, and the
shelves behind the counter were full of an impressive array of mismatched vintage china
teacups and teapots, and a matched set of modern cappuccino mugs. If I had to guess, the
shop specialised in tea, and only offered espresso drinks out of necessity.

Sally stepped through the curtain with two to-go cups and a paper bag. I took my cup and
turned to the little side table to add milk and sugar to my liking. Sally didn’t look at me as she
meekly rang us up and Lockwood paid. Then, right as I went to follow him back outside,
Sally called for me to wait. She came around the counter and studied me. If the frown on her
face was any indication, she was unimpressed.

“You treat him right, miss. He deserves it.” She looked at me with bright eyes, then rushed
off, disappearing behind the curtain as I stared after her. I could have sworn I saw her wiping
away a tear as she went. I shook my head and left the shop.

Lockwood was waiting for me. “That’s strange. Usually she gives me a discount.”

“Does she? I take it you usually go alone? Not with a girl you are introducing as your
girlfriend?”

“Well, of course. Haven’t exactly had a girlfriend to introduce before now.”

“Hmm. Yes. Completely mysterious behaviour on her part.” We walked for a bit and sipped
our drinks. “Sorry. I’m just wondering, exactly how many shop girls will I be fending off
with a stick? Just curious in case I need to buy a few more sticks than I typically keep on
hand.”

“Huh? Are you still talking about Tracey?”

“No. Or at least, not just her.”

“Well then, what are you…”

“Lockwood. Sally’s obsessed with you, too.”

“What are you talking about? She’s just a sweet, shy girl who runs a tea shop.”

“She stopped me to tell me to ‘treat you right’ because you ‘deserve it’ and then ran off like I
set her hair on fire. She usually gives you a discount when you go in alone. That combo is not
just ‘sweet, shy girl’ behaviour. She likes you.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“Lockwood. How many places give you discounts or free food or drinks?”

“Uh, most of them that are run by girls? And some by boys! And they give me discounts
even when I’m buying stuff for the whole team!” He hastily added.

“Right. Well, I’d bet that those boys are interested in you, too. And of course they all still
give you a discount when you’re buying for ‘the team’. That’s not a girlfriend!” Lockwood
stopped walking, and I turned to look at him. He had a stricken look on his face. “It’s okay.
I’m sure they’ll get used to it. Just like you said with Tracey. Although maybe if you didn’t
try so hard to charm everyone, you wouldn’t have this problem.” I muttered the last bit. He
really was too charming for his own good.

“It’s not my fault if they got ideas just because I was friendly! That’s not what I’m upset
about. I’m going to have to redo my entire budget!”

I snorted and started walking again. I heard Lockwood run a few steps to catch up. “You
could always just introduce me as your teammate instead of your girlfriend.” I couldn’t quite
look at him as I said this. It was very practical, and I would pretend for his sake, but it would
hurt.

“No.” Lockwood’s pronouncement was so forceful, I stumbled to a halt. “I’m not going to
pretend, and I’m not going to hide you. I am so proud and thankful that you are my girlfriend.
I’d yell it from the rooftops if it would do any good. If this were fifty years ago, I’d be
begging to post the banns already. Don’t you do that, Lucy. Don’t try to diminish what you
mean to me, even just in front of others.”

“Um, right. Of course.” I turned and started walking rather blindly. I shook my head to clear
it. “Sorry. Wait. What’re ‘banns’?”

Lockwood blushed and started opening the paper bag. “Nevermind that bit. Want your
doughnut?”

I narrowed my eyes, but took the proffered treat. Maybe George would know what ‘banns’
were. It wasn’t worth ruining an outing with Lockwood.

Three hours later, we made it back to 35 Portland Row. Our trip to Audio Lounge was
something I was keen to put behind me. Apparently, there had been some new thing released
today and everyone else was desperate to get it. There had been a line at the store that went
down the block just to get inside. The clerk seemed surprised when we just got the
headphones. I was mostly convinced that George had known about the special release and
had sent us out specifically this morning as further revenge. Regardless, the tea and doughnut
were wearing a bit thin. Standing in the way of our route to the kitchen were George and
Holly, in the middle of putting on their winter outerwear.
“Ah, good. You’re finally back. Barnes wants us all down at Scotland Yard immediately. The
cab should be here any moment.”

“What were you going to do if we didn’t walk through the door?”

“George left a note on the Thinking Cloth.”

“Well then, just pretend you didn’t see us. Luce and I are starving.”

“Oh no. You’re coming, too. Barnes will be far less pissy if we are all there as requested.
Besides, by the time we’re done, it will probably be time to head to that interview with True
Hauntings, and you wanted Holly to go along for that. It’ll be more efficient if you can all
leave together from Scotland Yard. Come on.” George waddled out the door. We really
needed to convince him to buy some different winter gear. He looked like a toddler dressed
by an overprotective mum. Lockwood sighed, and I knew we were going to have to wait for
lunch. On balance, denying me lunch might be George’s worst offence of the day. So far, at
least. I winced.

“I’ve got some granola bars in my purse. You’re welcome to some on the cab ride.” Holly
was much too chirpy for my current mood.

“Thanks, Hol. I’m sure we’ll be fine.” I mustered a smile for her. She hadn’t done anything
wrong besides offering me cardboard to eat. I could refuse gracefully. We stepped out the
door and I watched as she locked up. Then I had another thought. “Um, do you happen to
have any paracetamol in your purse? I think I’m going to need some if we’re to do much
more walking today.”

Holly raised a brow but dug in her purse as we went down the stairs to join Lockwood and
George in the cab. “Anything I should know about?”

“Oh, no. Just fell in the shower this morning and I think I may have bruised more than my
dignity.”

She was blushing as she handed me the bottle and I wondered what George had told her, but
if she didn’t bring it up, I certainly wasn’t going to. We climbed into the cab and I sat next to
Lockwood with an awkward smile as I shook out a few pills. A few days ago, I would have
over-thought the seating arrangements, but not now. He gave the directions to the driver and
sat back, holding my hand. I passed the bottle back to Holly and settled in for the drive.

Bureaucracy at Scotland Yard hadn’t changed much in the aftermath of Fittes House’s
disgrace. We were kept waiting for at least an hour before Barnes was free. Although, in a
nod to our status as London's premier agency, we were shown to a room with refreshments
instead of left to wait in the front hall. No one from Fittes or Rotwell would be using it, after
all. This was good for everyone involved, because at least I was able to make myself a cuppa
and eat a few biscuits and crisps. It wasn’t the best lunch I’d ever had, but at least it was
something. Holly looked slightly miffed that I was eating the ‘unhealthy’ offerings when I
had refused her granola, but she still joined me for a cup of tea.
Lockwood was looking at a gossip magazine. George was looking through his notebook,
presumably going over something he found in the Archives. Holly was quietly drinking her
tea. And I? I was pacing when Barnes' secretary finally came back to escort us to him.

There were plenty of chairs and reading materials around the room. So why was I pacing?
The newspapers scattered around the room were all splashed with headlines of Barnes’
promotion to Commissioner and the appointment of a Ms Taylor to head of the new UA. This
stood for United Agents, otherwise known as all of the old Fittes and Rotwell agents that
Barnes had not managed to rehome with other agencies. At least it was better than that
ridiculous UPRA name. Even better, Barnes didn't have to deal with it any longer.

But I already knew all about it. I'd seen most of those articles in our kitchen, where George
and sometimes Kipps went on at length about what any given article got right, and what they
got completely wrong. Given that the papers were working from a set of facts that was
largely incorrect due to the government cover up, there was a lot wrong. At any rate, I had no
urge to look at any of them.

Magazines were off limits today for an entirely different reason. Now that Lockwood had
revealed the kind of things he read about in them, I didn’t trust my luck to not run across an
inappropriate article. I was trying not to get flustered while waiting. And I certainly hadn’t
been able to indulge in my usual way to pass the time when we were stuck waiting
somewhere. Staring at Lockwood was just not an option when I found myself blushing and
then squirming in arousal at wondering just what other tips he might be reading in those
damned magazines. Following the secretary, I was the first out the door. Maybe the walk
would help me cool down. In more ways than one.

I looked around in bemusement as we entered Barnes’ new office. He may have moved to a
swankier floor with his promotion to Commissioner, but apparently his decor was still the
same. The door shut behind us and Lockwood and I sat down. Holly stood behind us, while
George slouched against the wall. Surely a Commissioner ranked more than two chairs, but
maybe he was having a hard time finding ones to match the battered ones he’d apparently
moved up from his old office.

“Well, I suppose it's reassuring that some things never change.” Barnes’ dour demeanour was
in full force today.

“Oh, I agree, sir. Those really are some excellent ducks. Did you bring them from home to
decorate the new office? Or do you own multiple sets?” George apparently couldn’t resist,
even though he had been the one concerned with Barnes’ mood.

“You’re personal thoughts on my decor aside, Cubbins, I was referring to your agency's
inability to follow directions.”

“Excuse me, sir. What are you talking about?” Lockwood strived to look innocent.

“I specifically told Cubbins that I needed the agents that went on the Mrs Jenkins case the
other night. Per the report filed with this office, that would mean that I did not in fact request
you or Miss Carlyle, and did request Kipps. I suppose I can accept you feeling a need to be
here as head of the company, but Miss Carlyle is certainly superfluous to requirements. She
could be at home eating lunch instead of raiding our waiting room. And yet, here you both
are, and here Kipps isn't.”

“Ah, but, sir. Lucy is never superfluous,” Lockwood tried a grin, which wilted under Barnes’
stare. “However, I take your point. I must have misunderstood George. What can we do for
you, then?”

Oh, George was going to hear about this. From me, if not Lockwood as well. I could just see
him from the corner of my eye trying to make himself small where he stood against the wall.

“You can tell me why I've heard reports that Cubbins' team encountered a Source that could
only have come from the rubble of Fittes House and did not see fit to contact me
immediately. Instead, I had to hear that certain inquiries were being made by your associate, a
Miss Flo Bones, and go digging through your submitted reports to find the information that
you encountered the Visitor of Sir Rupert Gale? You didn't think that this was information
that deserved immediate attention?”

“We are planning on dealing with that Source tomorrow night. It will go to the furnaces
Saturday morning, and that will be the end of Sir Gale. I simply thought I would tell you once
it was resolved.”

Barnes winced. “I'm afraid it won't be that simple. This office has a vested interest in making
sure that there are no other surprises from Fittes House. The government plans on
prosecuting whoever took Sir Gale's source from the ruins. So we will need any information
you uncover on how the Source ended up at Mrs Jenkins’, and you will deliver the Source
here for processing, not the furnaces. We will also require any information you find about
other possible Sources taken from Fittes House.”

That phrasing made me wince. The skull in my attic was a possible Source, and I had carried
it from the burning building. Still, I wasn’t about to turn myself in, and neither was anyone
here.

“Of course, sir. You know us, always happy to comply with government requests.”
Lockwood beamed.

“I would think, given our working relationship, that you could see fit to not torment me with
that grin, Mr Lockwood. Please, put it away. I will plan on seeing you early on Saturday.
Now, off with you. And Lockwood? Get Miss Carlyle something to eat. She may have
demolished our stash of snacks in the waiting room, but it can't have been enough for lunch.
Cubbins, I do believe we need to discuss my wager. I'll be calling tomorrow over my lunch
break.” With that, he waved towards the door and went back to reading a report on his desk.

We all filed quietly from the room. At the end of the line, I turned at the door. Barnes winked
at me, and I grinned. I had no idea how he knew he had won that bet, but I was willing to not
hold it against him. Barnes had become a friend to me. He had been a friend to Lockwood
and Co. even when those had been scarce. If he still insisted on the increasingly ridiculous
 show of disdain with Lockwood, at least it was a sign that he was the same old Barnes, and
that was somehow reassuring.

Chapter End Notes

Please note that even though banns are apparently still used in England, in this fic, they
stopped requiring them early in the Problem, when religion became more optional as a
society. Hence why Lucy doesn't recognize the term, but Lockwood, with his knowledge
of random things, does.
I may expand on this in later chapters, but I didn't want to confuse anyone.
 Chapter 11
Chapter Summary

In a shocking turn of events, Lucy is nervous about an interview.

George was quiet as we left Scotland Yard. Lockwood and I looked at each other and I
nodded. Lockwood may have known him longer, but I was okay with handling this one. I fell
back to walk with George. Up ahead, I heard Lockwood asking Holly if we had time to grab
a bite to eat before our True Hauntings interview. As soon as I caught her reassuring him that
there was a small shop with sandwiches next to the magazine’s office, I tuned them out. I
only had a few blocks before George would need to go in a different direction to head to the
Archives.

Next to me, George was walking with his head down. “Hey.” I nudged him with my elbow.
He looked up at me with a miserable look on his face.

“Sorry, Luce. I didn’t mean to be such an arse.” He kicked at the pavement and did not
almost fall over in the process. I suppose even George is more coordinated than me when half
awake. I figured there was more to come, so I just continued walking quietly. My patience
was rewarded when George continued.

“I guess I’m having a harder time than I thought I would. You and Lockwood have always
kind of had your own wavelength, but now it’s like I don’t matter at all. We just set up those
rules yesterday, and you guys didn’t go twenty-four hours without breaking them. Not to
mention waking me up. And Lockwood almost getting us all hurt last night. But I should
have taken the time to talk to you instead of acting out.”

“Hey.” I nudged him until he looked at me and then gave him a crooked smile. “We all just
need a bit of time to find our balance. You know we love you, right?”

“Even when I mess with your lunch?”

“Even when you mess with my lunch.” I grimaced. “Try not to do it again, though. I almost
had to accept Holly’s granola,” I whispered.

“Truly, a fate worse than ghost-touch.” George was finally smiling, which was good since we
were approaching the corner where he would need to split off.

“Sorry about the shower,” I muttered. George looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Really. I
promise it won’t happen again. Falling on my arse in the loo is not high on my list of things
to repeat.”
At this, George laughed, and I felt warmed all the way through. This. I had to remember the
importance of this, my family, and not mess things up by being more obsessed with
Lockwood than usual. Lockwood was not the only star in my sky. There were George and
Holly, and even Kipps and Barnes, that I needed to remember. I tried not to think about the
skull, still silent in my attic.

We caught up to the others, and George turned to me. “Try to keep him in line at the
interview. I’ll see you guys after. I should be able to wrap up what I need by then and meet
you at home.”

“Yes, George.” I smiled. “We’ll see you at home.”

After a ham sandwich, I felt better about our impending interview. We had done so many
with the papers last year that even I had stopped being quite so self-conscious about seeing
my name in print, but True Hauntings was another thing entirely. Even back in my
hometown, people read this magazine. I stomped on that thought. I was here with the best
networker I knew, and my entirely too charming boyfriend, to talk about a truly interesting
case. We would be okay.

I clenched and unclenched my hand on the arm of the ridiculously ornate loveseat Lockwood
and I shared. Silver gilt covered any exposed wood, and the overstuffed cushions reeked of
lavender. Holly sat in her own equally ostentatious chair to the side. The wall across from us
was heavy with an abstract, dark, iron something that I suppose could be called art if you
were in a generous mood. The ceiling softly chimed with the movement of delicate silver
mobiles. I couldn’t decide if the decorator was even more scared of Visitors than the typical
adult, or if they were genuinely trying to impress people. Either way, they had gone a bit
overboard.

Lockwood must have sensed my unease, because he took my hand and leaned over to talk to
me quietly. “Hey. I can handle most of this. You only need to talk if you feel like it.”

“But it was my Talent that picked up on most of it!” I tried to keep my building panic quiet.

“Of course. That doesn’t mean you have to tell the story, though. It’s pretty standard for the
agency head to do most of the talking. I’m sure they won’t think anything of it.” He stroked
my knuckles with his thumb, then brought my hand to his lips. My breath shuddered out at
the kiss. “Just trust me, okay?”

A throat cleared in front of us, and we jolted to attention. Immediately, a lime green blazer
with magenta pinstripes seized that same attention and I could only gawk. “Oh. This is
intriguing. Romance in the workplace, then? And between London’s most eligible agency
head and his prized Listener, no less. Maybe I will have fun with this one.”

“Now, now Ms Morris. We are here to discuss a case. Not the personal lives of the members
of Lockwood and Co,” Holly bared her teeth in a smile and I swallowed. I had never seen
Holly like this with any of our previous interviewers. Lockwood squeezed my fingers, then
let me go and stood to face the woman standing in front of us.
“Ms Morris, lovely to meet you.” He briefly shook her hand, and I stared at her electric
yellow manicure. “I’m sure your readers will be much more interested in the haunting we are
here to discuss than my dating life,” Lockwood said. He sat back down with a smile and an
air that said he was sure this was the end of it.

“Oh, please, call me Rachel. And I’m sure you can agree that a bit of romantic intrigue
always makes things more…interesting to certain demographics.” Rachel settled into her own
gaudy chair. It clashed magnificently with her outfit. “I’m sure you won’t mind if I include
some tasteful bits about your relationship? It will be quite the scoop to announce that you’re
taken, Mr Lockwood. In fact, that alone might push this story over into special feature
territory.” Her grin was predatory.

“I suppose, if it’s tasteful, that I don’t mind everyone knowing that I’m taken.” I saw Holly
wince from the corner of my eye and wondered just what we had got ourselves into. On the
way over, she had given us the rundown on a typical interview with True Hauntings . She
hadn’t prepped us for the interviewer being more interested in Lockwood’s love life than the
case.

“Wonderful! Let's get started, then.” Ms Morris leaned forward. “What can you tell me about
this fascinating case of yours?” I braced myself for what was looking like a very long
afternoon.

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot about her tabloid background. She was always
interviewing such boring people for Rotwell’s! I should have remembered. I should have
prepared you. I should have…”

“Holly,” Lockwood calmly interrupted her. “It will be fine. I really don’t mind people
knowing that Lucy and I are dating. It would have got out sooner or later.”

“Oooh. You don’t understand. I’ve read some of her old work. It was positively indecent!”

“Well, that wasn’t written for this magazine. I’m sure it will be fine.”

Holly groaned. “Oh, I hope so. Just be extra careful when that photographer comes tomorrow.
I can’t believe you let her talk you into squeezing that in on the same day as the Gale case!”

“Well, she did have a point. They only publish once a month, and this is the only way to get
our feature included in this month’s edition.”

“That’s another thing! They never do features with this quick of a turnaround. They would
have had to bump something out of the slot!”

“Oh, I’m sure they just thought this case was much more interesting than whatever they were
going to publish in its place. Don’t worry so much, Hol.” Lockwood brushed aside her
concerns.
Holly and I shared a look. The normally unflappable girl was biting her lip, which made me
nervous. If we were lucky, this Ms Morris would stick to the facts of the case. But I had the
sinking suspicion that she had figured out exactly when Lockwood and I had started dating.

Well, if Lockwood didn’t mind being featured in a national magazine as some silly
romanticised figure, I could try not to mind either. After all, I interacted with the public far
less than he did. I just hoped that the excitement of a romance for Lockwood was the only
reason our feature was being fast-tracked.

Lockwood checked his watch. “We should catch a cab. George would have been expecting us
ages ago, I’m sure.” He stepped away to wave one down. I turned to Holly.

“Be honest. How badly do you think that interview went?”

Holly grimaced. “I think the parts about the case went splendidly. We can only hope that the
editors reign her in on the rest. After all, it’s True Hauntings, not a cheap tabloid or one of
those society rags that Lockwood reads for fun.” My breath caught, and I coughed a bit.

“Right. Fun. Um, do you ever read any of those?”

Holly snorted delicately. “Tabloids? No. Gossip magazines? Yes. It’s amazing what they
deem suitable for print, but sometimes there was information about the higher profile Rotwell
clients that I could use to my advantage. Knowing what flowers someone liked meant that I
could customise the office bouquets for their appointment. Details about their favourite
sweets let me know what to offer with their tea. And I could usually tell what style of high
end protection items would most appeal to them, etc. It was very helpful in securing clients
and their good opinions. I kept a whole binder with all of the information. I still keep up with
it a bit, especially now that we are attracting more of London’s elite.”

I gaped at her. “You used to do all of that for a man you hated?”

“I wasn’t doing it for Steve Rotwell. I was doing it for my fellow agents. Happier clients
meant that everyone was treated better on jobs. When I finally left, I just couldn’t take it
anymore, that’s all.”

“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m really sorry that I underestimated you as just a secretary
when you started.”

“Oh, hush.” Holly gave me a quick hug. “Come on. Looks like Lockwood finally found a
ride.”

I smiled as I followed her to the waiting cab. Holly was truly one of a kind.

Back at Portland Row, George was indeed waiting. He had apparently used the extra time to
lay out a spread for tea that included all of our favourites from Arrif’s. “Looks great, George.
Finish up at the Archives alright?” He was just finishing up with the teapot, so I sat down.
Holly and Lockwood were still in the entry, hashing out which room to use for tomorrow’s
photoshoot; a discussion I wanted nothing to do with.

George set the teapot in a free spot and sat down. “Figured it’s the least I could do. Archives
went fine. Think I found the last piece I needed. What’re the others up to?”

I groaned. “Don’t ask them unless you want to be included in their discussion of colours and
light angles and whatever else they’re going on about.”

“Huh?”

There was no room to put my head on the table. I settled for leaning back and slumping in my
chair. “The photographer’s coming tomorrow.”

“Well, that’ll be a bit of a squeeze with tomorrow’s case, but it’s great. It means they decided
on a feature, right?”

“Yeah. I guess.” I stared at the ceiling. Had we really missed a spot when we repainted after
the damage last year? Or was that jam on the ceiling? I closed my eyes. “The lady figured out
that Lockwood and I are dating and wants to include it. Holly says she used to work in
tabloids.” Something metallic clattered on the table, and I sat up to find that George had
dropped the butter knife. “What?”

“It’s that Rachel Morris?”

“What about Rachel Morris? What are you talking about?” George apparently didn’t hear me.

“I thought she was blacklisted. That can’t be the same person.”

“George!” He looked up. “Make sense.”

“I didn’t know that the Rachel Morris at True Hauntings was the same person. The articles
I’ve read haven’t sounded at all alike.”

“What articles?”

“Old tabloids. Probably twenty years ago. I’ve seen them in the Archives.”

“Okay. Am I not understanding something? Holly seemed to think they were different too,
but I always thought tabloid was just another word for those gossip magazines, and those
don’t seem that bad.”

“No. I mean, there’s sometimes some overlap, but gossip magazines tend to be speculation
based upon paparazzi pictures or anonymous sources. That kind of thing. Tabloids make
things up out of whole-cloth, heavily doctored photographs, and sources with fake
credentials. They used to have things like aliens and the Loch Ness Monster, but that sort of
thing has fallen off a bit with the Problem. Now, they are full of conspiracy theories about the
Problem, Celebrity A is in love with a Rawbones, Celebrity B is pregnant with a Ghost baby,
etc. Most people don’t fully believe them, but that hasn’t saved certain public figures from
scandals started in tabloids. One of Rachel Morris’ articles ended the career of the Prime
Minister about twenty years back. He sued the pants off her and won, but the damage was too
pervasive.”

“What did she write?”

George looked slightly green. “I’d rather not say.”

“Okay…but Lockwood and I are together. What harm can she really do?”

George shook his head. “Let’s really hope we don’t find out.”

There was a bustle at the doorway to the kitchen, and Holly and Lockwood came in with
Kipps, still arguing the study versus the downstairs office and fencing practice room. If I was
any judge of Kipps’ face, he was debating the wisdom of asking what they were talking
about. I caught his eye and shook my head. He shrugged and sat down to start making
himself a plate.

“I know you want to pose with a sword, but I’m telling you, it’s a bad idea. We don’t invite
clients downstairs for several reasons. You certainly don’t want a photographer sent by that
harpy to have access to that area.”

“But that’s just it. There’s less personal stuff downstairs. It would give them less to work
with.”

“It will be easier to strip all of the personal clues out of the study and the path there than to
hide everything we’d need to in the office area. And you and Lucy cannot be photographed
with swords pointed at each other.”

“Hey guys.” They both turned to look at me. “I think George is ready to start on the briefing.
Have some tea with us and decide later?” I crossed my fingers under the table. There were
even odds on my redirection working.

“Sure, Luce. Sorry, George. This looks great.” Lockwood snagged a Choco Leibniz biscuit
and settled back in his chair. George really had splurged. That, or he’d nicked them from
Lockwood’s very much not ‘secret stash’. I handed Lockwood a cup of tea his preferred
shade for afternoon strategy sessions. Unlike George or me, his preference varied depending
on the situation. Normally, he had a strong, teak coloured cup of tea, but for strategy sessions,
he took double his normal splash of milk. I always knew it was a high-stress situation if he
took any sugar. Today, he did not. Holly, of course, took neither milk nor sugar, so George
just poured her a cup and we were all set.

George tidied some papers and cleared his throat. “Alright. So we all know our history with
Sir Rupert Gale. I tried to look into him before, but when he was alive, most of the
information I wanted was unavailable. Now that he’s dead, more is available, but the real
breakthroughs happened because Barnes gave me access to his DEPRAC records. They
already had a full file on Sir Rupert. Most of it was stuff Barnes couldn’t act on because it
was prior to Sir Rupert’s majority or just speculation, but there were a few things from the
secret investigations following his death. Using it all, I tracked down a few things I think the
investigators missed. Our Sir Rupert has quite the chequered past. Any guesses?”
“Torturing small animals?” Holly ventured.

“Bingo. Point to Hol. Mentions of that at boarding school.”

“Abused girlfriend?”

“Close, Lockwood. Missing girlfriend. I’ll say half point.”

“Gang involvement?”

“Oooh. Nice, Luce. This one’s interesting. No official ties for Sir Rupert, but all of his old
prep school buddies have been in and out of court or gaol for their ties to underground groups
over the last ten years. Including ones known for Source theft and more militant ghost cults.
With what we know, Sir Rupert being the only one of them with a squeaky clean record in
that regard fairly screams protection from higher up. In fact, that’s one of the points in my
argument for how far back his involvement with Marissa goes. I’ll give it a full point. Well,
any other guesses?”

“Gambling?”

“Rather tame guess, Kipps. But I’ll award you the point. He ran a gambling ring here in
London. Any guesses on the type of thing they were betting on?” The table was silent as
George looked around expectantly. “No one? It’s pretty nasty… oh fine. The betting pools
were on Agent and civilian deaths due to Visitors. Apparently, there were some pretty hefty
bets against all of us last year. I cost quite a few idiots a minor fortune on my own.” George
sounded very pleased with himself over this, but I was struggling not to get up and hug him.
Almost losing George had been an even worse experience than being trapped on the Other
Side for more than twenty-four hours.

“Ah. Right.” Lockwood sounded a bit strangled and I couldn’t blame him. He’d taken
George’s attack worse than I had. “So, any other background details? Or can you start in on
what you’ve figured out in relation to the case?”

George deflated slightly. “Well, I couldn’t find the records before, because his school year
records weren’t available, and he didn’t go to any of the local schools. He was shipped off to
the continent. They must have been hoping that it would hide his proclivities. But anyway, a
big part of his identity was apparently fencing. He was on the school teams and was
something of a prodigy. The newspaper clippings use words like ‘fearless’ and ‘ruthless’.
Interesting side note: the infirmary notes from his schools show unusually high records for
injuries involving ‘cuts’ and ‘slices’ during his specific years from prep school all the way
through Uni. Including one boy who lost a finger. There are also noted ghost-touch incidents
among his peers. Again, none of the reports are tied to him by name, but it makes a pretty
damning picture.”

“Okay. So we have sadistic behaviour that possibly escalated from animals to his peers.
Suspected ties to using Visitors’ Sources to injure those same peers. A narcissistic,
raconteuring, fencing nut who possibly killed his girlfriend. Anything else? Or does that sum
up the background?”
“Well, one more possible detail. The girlfriend was pregnant, due any time, and the baby has
also never been found.”

“Great. Let’s just add another Visitor tied to infanticide this week. That’s really wonderful.” I
set down my fork. My swiss roll didn’t look quite so appetising anymore. Holly looked as ill
as I felt.

Lockwood frowned. “That is strange. Okay. George, tell us something that will help us take
care of this arsehole tomorrow.”

“Okay, remember I said that his apparent shielding from the consequences of his actions
appears to stretch back to at least prep school? The truly suspicious things began happening
to his classmates when he was about eleven. The animal incidents before that were more
clearly documented, but they stopped being reported around that same age. There’s a lot of
self congratulatory language about him ‘outgrowing it due to guidance’ in the school records.
Anyway, fencing was first available to him when he was ten. The summer after he started, he
competed in a tournament while he was home on holiday. It was hosted by, wait for it, Fittes.
The prize for his division was an antique sword-stick, rumoured to have belonged to Lord
Byron and certified Visitor free. The old gossip is that it was meant to go to someone Fittes
House was hoping to poach from Rotwell. Instead, it went to little Rupert, who had no
opportunity to work for either agency given that his parents were adamant he return to his
school on the continent at the end of the summer. They wouldn’t have wanted the animal
mutilations to go public like they would have if he transferred to a school over here.
Apparently, Marissa settled for bringing him on as a page of sorts for the summer. It must not
have been official or I would have found it before in the old employment records for Fittes,
but I found a few references to Marissa’s ‘adorable little shadow’ in the gossip magazines
from that summer, and even a few pictures where he can just be seen with Marissa at some
events that let me verify that it was him. He then returned to prep school, where all of the
complaints of animal cruelty mysteriously stopped, and all of the suspicious injuries to his
classmates never came back to him.”

“Okay, so he developed a taste for Marissa and sword-sticks when he was young?”

“Not just a taste, Kipps. I think the sword-stick he carried as an adult was the same one he
won as a ten-year-old. Lockwood and Lucy, you saw it up close a few times. What do you
think?” George pulled a page out of his folder and set it amidst the carnage of our tea. I
leaned forward to look, not really expecting to notice anything, but Lockwood immediately
stabbed his finger at the photo.

“This. This, right here. Sir Rupert’s blade had this detailing on the grip, and the seal on the
end of the pommel. That’s definitely the same. It even has the same uneven colour in the
enamel. Fascinating. I wonder if he ever had to have a new blade fitted to the hilt. That would
have taken a skilled swordsmith…”

“Okay, so Lockwood’s fascination aside, this is what I think his Source would be. The hilt of
his sword-stick.”

“Why not the whole thing?” Holly asked.

Lockwood shook his head. “The blade was silvered. Makes it highly unlikely that it could be
part of the Source.”

“Well then, maybe it’s not the Source at all.”

“I’m sure of this one, Kipps. One, we know that the remains recovered by DEPRAC were
complete, all body parts accounted for, so it can’t be any random body parts. Two, the hilt
would have been small enough that whoever snuck it out of the rubble could have done so
easily, not to mention I find it highly unlikely that the sword-stick was still intact after all of
the damage in Fittes House, especially in the Hall of Pillars. Three, Lockwood was right.
Kind of stole my thunder there, you know. Sir Rupert patronised a specific swordsmith
skilled in restoration work, and a quick call verified that he had that sword-stick redone with
a new blade several times.”

“How on earth did you winkle that out of somebody?” I was somewhat impressed. George’s
research usually didn’t extend to talking to people unless they were librarians or fellow
researchers.

George removed his glasses to rub the lenses; the version of the movement that meant he was
very proud of himself. “Oh, a craftsman is always willing to brag about their work once you
get them started. I simply had to imply that he wouldn’t be able to do work to my employer’s
standards, and he fell all over himself name-dropping the famous blades he’s worked on.
Lord Byron’s sword-stick was right at the top of his list, and I simply acted interested in such
a unique piece.” He replaced his glasses and took a large bite of cake as we all stared at him.

“That’s really excellent, George! What about the how? Did Flo find out anything?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. It seems that there is some underground group that is offering top
pay for any artefacts or Sources tied to Fittes House. There’s a few different relic-men that
have been selling to them, but so far Flo’s only heard about non-Source sales. Things like
sconces from the Hall of Pillars. She’s still trying to find out what the group is called and
why they have an interest in everything Fittes. She reckons either the relic-man has a stash
near Mrs Jenkins’ place, or the buyers didn’t want it, so they chucked it. If they did, one of
Mrs Jenkins’ kids could have picked it up and brought it home.”

Holly hummed. “I don’t know, George. Those kids should have been taught not to pick up
anything to bring home precisely because of the danger that they could bring a Source inside
the home defences. And don’t you think their mother would have checked their pockets when
they first started having issues?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” George was giving me the side eye, and I frowned. “You’d be surprised
what even a trained operative can be compelled to bring home.”

I kicked him under the table. “Anyway,” I cleared my throat. “Knowing what we’re looking
for should definitely help, especially since we can show the picture to anyone we ask.”

“Alright, George. Let’s see the building blueprints. Don’t sigh, I know you have them. We
need to figure out our plan of attack and move on to the details for tonight’s case.” I smiled at
Lockwood, thankful that he had helped gloss over George’s reference to the old Annabelle
Ward case, and he winked at me. I grinned. This was what I had always craved. Friends
closer than family, all looking out for and supporting each other. Sir Rupert didn’t stand a
chance when he was alive. He certainly didn’t stand a chance now.
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