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Lockwood’s head was spinning.
Between the physical damage to 35 Portland Row from Winkman’s goons and the emotional strain and injuries they had endured on the Other Side and at Fittes House, Lockwood & Co. had looked better.
While Kipps was still at the hospital recovering from surgery, Lockwood had spent the past several hours taking stock of the situation at Portland Row with Lucy, George, and Holly. He’d never been more thankful for Holly’s organizational skills. After calling their local Indian restaurant and placing an order for takeaway, she had somehow managed to produce a clipboard to begin a tally of needed repairs and purchases.
While they waited for their food to arrive, the first order of business had been getting themselves in order. Lockwood took a quick shower and located a pair of joggers and a jumper, while Holly helped Lucy clean up, decreeing her too shaky on her feet to be left alone. George did—well, Lockwood wasn’t entirely sure what George did, but his new outfit looked marginally cleaner.
The four of them ate curry and samosas sitting on the floor of the living room before embarking on a more detailed survey of the house. Lockwood quickly deemed his own room uninhabitable for the night; the same applied to George’s bedroom (although that wasn’t exactly out of the realm of the ordinary). The two of them would sleep on the sofas in the living room and library. Lucy’s attic, however, had been undisturbed—a gift considering she was in the worst physical shape of all of them due to her stab wound.
While Lucy was putting a brave face on, after the third time Lockwood caught her leaning against the wall when she thought no one was looking, he decided enough was enough. He didn’t give her a chance to protest, instead carefully looping an arm around her waist and directing her towards the attic steps.
“Lucy, we should check your room.”
“We already did,” she said, unsuccessfully hiding a wince.
“Ah, well, perhaps in that case, it’s time for you to acquaint yourself with your bed then.”
“Lockwood—” she said stubbornly.
“Hol, you and George can continue onward if you feel inclined, but feel free to head back to your flat whenever you’d like.” The two of them were still standing outside Jessica’s room, casting suspicious looks at the remnants of the spirit gate, but Lockwood knew he didn’t have the emotional reserves to deal with that at the moment. “I’m going to get Luce settled for the night.”
While Lucy continued to put forth some half hearted protests as he helped her up the stairs to the attic, Lockwood could tell she was secretly relieved to sink into her mattress.
“Better?” he asked, perching on the edge of her bed next to her.
Lucy gave him a reluctant nod. “Much better.” She was wearing one of his old jumpers with the sleeves rolled up over her pajamas. Lockwood had salvaged it from his room when she’d begun shivering, trying to spare her from yet another flight of stairs. The repetitive motion had to be murder on her side.
“Good,” he said, smiling at her. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to properly rest.”
“Lockwood, how are you doing?” Lucy asked, her eyes turning intense. “I know it must be hard seeing your home like this.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s pleasant,” he admitted. “But we can make the repairs, get new furniture. It will just take time. The important things are all still here in one piece.”
“Such as?”
“You and George and Holly, of course.” Lockwood let his fingers press against Lucy’s wrist, feeling for her pulse. It thudded steadily, a sign that she was still there with him, alive and safe. “We can replace furniture. I can’t replace you.”
Lucy gave him a small smile. “Lockwood,” she said, her expression growing more serious. “About earlier. With Marissa. I hope you know that there was never going to be a world where I would have left you there alone.”
“And there’s never going to be a world where I leave you, Luce,” he said simply. Their eyes met, a heady look of understanding passing between them.
“We both stay alive," she insisted. "No matter what.”
“We stay alive,” he agreed. “And, Luce, it’s still a bit difficult to imagine what the future will be like. But think of all the things we’ll be able to do together now that this is done. We can take some time off, perhaps go on a holiday… I’ve always wanted to visit some of the places my parents went to on their travels. There’s so many other adventures we can have.”
“You want to do those things with me?” Lucy asked, biting her lip and looking up at him under her eyelashes.
“Lucy,” Lockwood said, moving closer to her. He hoped she knew how serious he was. “I’ve never wanted anyone else by my side.”
Her gaze softened, some of the tension leaving her face. “Perhaps we should put the house back together first before we start talking about travel.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan.” Lockwood let his fingers wrap gently around her wrist. “But whatever comes our way, we’ll do it together, won’t we, Luce?”
“Together,” Lucy agreed. A radiant smile came over her face.
“You and me.”
“You and me.” Even covered with bruises and cuts and bandages, she’d never looked quite so beautiful to him.
“Glad we have that settled,” he offered, unable to hold back his own smile.
“Me too.” They both grinned at each other for a minute, letting their first true moment of peace drape over them like a thick blanket, as they welcomed the new beginnings that now awaited them.
Lockwood carefully tucked a lock of Lucy’s hair behind her ear, before letting his fingers thread through the strands at the nape of her neck. He let his forehead rest against hers, feeling her steady pulse under his fingertips and her warm breath against his cheek.
Against all the odds, she was alive. Thanks to the skull, they were both alive. He didn’t want to let another moment pass by.
“Luce,” he murmured, before tilting his head and finally letting his lips slot against hers.
Lucy leaned further into his touch, sighing into his mouth and pressing forward to kiss him back. Her pulse was racing under his fingertips, and Lockwood felt his own pick up in tandem.
This kiss—this hidden dream finally fulfilled—was what he had been waiting for for so long.
As Lockwood angled her face up towards his to deepen the kiss, he suddenly felt Lucy fall against him. She slumped forward, her body completely slack.
Lockwood jerked away, wrapping an arm around Lucy’s waist to support her. He hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he was certain this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“Luce,” he said urgently. “Are you okay?”
Lucy was silent, her body limp and unresponsive in his arms. She was clearly unconscious.
Somehow, she had fainted—while he was still kissing her.
“George!” Lockwood yelled, his normal composure abandoning him at precisely the wrong moment. “Holly! I need help!”
The two of them raced up the stairs to the attic as quickly as they could, given their own injuries.
“Lucy’s passed out,” he said, still cradling her body in his arms. His heart was thudding frantically in his chest—now for completely different reasons.
Holly rushed over to his side. “Lay her down, Lockwood.”
George and Holly helped him carefully maneuver Lucy so she was flat on her bed, her head resting against the pillows.
Lockwood checked her pulse again. It had steadied, even if it seemed unreasonably slow. “Do you think she’s alright?” he asked, concern seeping into his voice.
Holly clucked her tongue, as she placed a hand on Lucy’s forehead. “She’s been through a horrible ordeal, and she probably should have gone to the hospital.”
“What happened before she fainted?” George asked, shifting into research mode. “Was she acting funny? Or did it just come on quickly?”
Lockwood felt the tips of his ears heat at the questions. “Ah, we were just—”
“Yes, was she upset about everything that’s happened, Lockwood?” Holly said. “Sometimes anxious or intense situations can cause people to faint.”
“No,” he said, clearing his throat. “I thought she was quite happy actually.”
“Tell us exactly what happened,” George said.
Lockwood swallowed. Lucy was so still and had grown even paler if possible. “We were just talking, and then I…”
“Spit it out, Lockwood,” George said, crossing his arms. “We don’t have all day, especially if we need to take Lucy back to A&E.”
“Oh, fine,” Lockwood said, resigning himself to the absurdity of this situation. “I kissed her, and the next thing I knew, she fainted on me.”
George barked out a laugh, and Holly looked like she was trying not to do the same thing. “Was this—the first time you’ve done that?” she ventured.
“I don’t understand why that matters,” Lockwood muttered, gently caressing Lucy’s face. Her skin was clammy and cool to the touch, and he leaned in closer to ensure she was still breathing.
“It’s just that if it had been the first time, that might have been a bit overwhelming for Lucy, especially after everything her body’s been through in the past couple of days,” Holly explained patiently, like he was an annoying client. “And it would be good to know if that was the reason she fainted, or if it was due to her injury…”
Lockwood sighed. What was the point in denying it—especially if Lucy was potentially ill? “It was the first time.” And what an attempt it turned out to be, he thought.
“That bad at snogging, are you, Lockwood?” George chortled. “You made poor Luce pass out cold.”
“George,” Lockwood hissed, feeling the flush continue to spread over his face.
“Well, it’s not as if you have much experience, do you?” George asked, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll get better with practice.”
Lockwood bristled. “I hardly think that this is the time to discuss that—”
“Go get Lucy some water, George,” Holly said firmly. “She’ll need it when she wakes up.”
As if summoned by Holly’s words, Lucy stirred, and her eyes opened.
Lucy had been enjoying the most lovely dream.
She’d been having a wonderful chat with Lockwood about plans for their future—together—and to top it off, Lockwood had leaned in and kissed her. It had been a perfect kiss, soft and slow, with his hands weaving into her hair. She’d been quite keen for it to continue, but like all good dreams, it had ended far too quickly.
“Lucy!” Lockwood’s concerned face was swimming before her, as she slowly blinked her eyes open. Well, at least his presence wasn’t a dream. “How do you feel, Luce?”
She groaned in response. Everything around her was blurry. George and Holly were waving back and forth next to Lockwood, like dancing lengths of seaweed in an ocean documentary.
She attempted to sit up, and Lockwood put a hand on her shoulder to gently push her back down on her bed. “Don’t try to get up, Luce. You need to stay laying down right now.”
Lucy listened to his directions immediately for once in her life, slumping back down like a bag of potatoes. “What happened?” she mumbled. Her ears were ringing, and she felt terribly dizzy, as if she’d spun in a circle fifty times in a row.
“Ah,” Lockwood said. “We were just… talking, and then, well, I think perhaps you felt a bit… overwhelmed, and you fainted right against me.”
“More like right against your mo—” George muttered.
“And that’s that,” Lockwood said quickly.
“Well, it’s a good thing you were here to catch me,” Lucy offered, giving Lockwood a weak attempt at a smile. It turned out it was quite embarrassing and undignified to faint and have everyone fuss over you.
“Yes, I suppose it was,” Lockwood said seriously.
“Do you feel nauseous, Lucy?” Holly inquired from her position hovering over Lockwood’s shoulder. For a reason she didn’t understand, that question made George start laughing.
“No, but my head hurts,” Lucy said, closing her eyes and screwing up her face at the loud noise. Lockwood moved his hand to rest against her face, and she felt him stroke her forehead with his thumb. That felt quite nice.
“George,” Lockwood said sharply. “I think I’ve got this. Holly, thank you. I’ll call you if I need you again. Lucy needs to rest.”
George and Holly diligently shuffled out of her room. After several minutes, Lockwood helped support her so she could drink a cup of water and swallow the pain medicine the doctor had given her.
Lucy expected him to leave after that, so she was pleasantly surprised when Lockwood moved to sit fully on her bed next to her, his back against her iron bed frame.
“Try to go to sleep, Luce,” Lockwood said, gently putting an arm around her shoulder to nudge her closer to him. “I’ll stay with you for a while to make sure you’re okay. We don’t want you passing out again.”
“I can’t believe I fainted,” she muttered. Her body felt depleted, and every part of her ached from the triple burden of their trip to the Other Side, the battle at Fittes House, and now passing out.
“Me either,” Lockwood said. He began gently smoothing his hand over her hair. “You gave me a bit of a scare there. We’re both staying alive, remember?”
“We are,” Lucy agreed hazily. She let her head rest against Lockwood’s thigh, soaking up his warmth through the soft joggers. She felt herself drifting off again, lulled into sleep by the soothing motion of his fingers in her hair. It felt eerily like the dream where he’d kissed her, but this was almost as nice.
With Lockwood still next to her, perhaps she’d have another good dream.
Lockwood awoke the next morning with a crick in his neck from falling asleep sitting up in Lucy’s bed. She was still pressed against him, using his thigh as a pillow, as his hand rested against the crown of her head.
The week that followed was jam packed. Lucy had to return to the doctor much to her chagrin, and there were seemingly endless appointments with Barnes and DEPRAC. Kipps was discharged from the hospital, and the five of them began the slow process of putting the house back together.
Throughout those days, he and Lucy rarely had a moment to themselves, so there hadn't been an overt acknowledgement of their conversation, much less an attempt at a second kiss. And frankly, Lockwood hadn’t worked up the nerve to try again, given what a disaster the first attempt had been.
However, his team members were determined not to let that stand. When Lucy went to Arif’s on an errand, Kipps immediately cornered him in the kitchen. An amused looking George stood backup to make sure he didn’t flee.
“Lockwood,” Kipps said, a glint in his eyes. “My condolences. I hear Carlyle was so overwhelmed by your bad kissing, she passed out on you.”
“You’ve narrowly avoided death, and you’ve decided to spend your second chance at life torturing me, Quill?” Lockwood said wryly, crossing his arms.
“What’s life for if not to enjoy imparting my hard earned wisdom onto the less fortunate?” Kipps sank down into a chair, letting out a groan in deference to his injury. “Plus, you’re clearly incompetent at doing this on your own. Have you kissed Lucy again yet?”
“Is that really your business?” Lockwood raised an eyebrow. “Is any of this your business?”
“That’s a no then,” George observed unhelpfully.
“What are you waiting for?” Kipps chided. “She’s not going to wait around for you forever.”
She promised to, Lockwood thought, savoring the memory for a second before returning to the unpleasant conversation in front of him. “Well, you three aren’t helping,” he said, letting his annoyance show. “I haven’t had a single moment alone with her.”
“Lockwood, sometimes you have to create the moment,” George said, rolling his eyes.
Lockwood begrudgingly had to admit there was something to be said for that idea. And he did still have a necklace to give to Lucy after all.
“I’ll address it,” he said finally. “Now the rest of you all stay out of our business.” He turned toward the door, easily ducking past George to escape to the basement.
They didn’t even make it to Regents Park on their walk before Lucy tugged on Lockwood's hand to stop him. They stood together on the sidewalk a few blocks from Portland Row, looking at each other for moment.
“Lockwood,” she said, touching the sapphire necklace resting on her collarbone again. “Thank you. This—well, it’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”
“Luce,” Lockwood said, daring to move closer to her. He looked around for a bench but there wasn’t one in sight, and he was reluctant to let this opportunity pass him by. “I hope you know that it’s so much more than just a gift to me.”
“Undying devotion, wasn’t it?” Lucy said breathlessly, her hands coming to rest against his chest.
“You and me,” Lockwood replied, another grin coming across his face. He quickly brought his arms around Lucy’s waist to hold her flush against him. If they were going to attempt kissing again, he had to ensure she didn’t fall to the ground if she fainted. Before he could talk himself out of it, Lockwood ducked his head, meeting Lucy’s lips with his own for the second time. It was even better than the first kiss, especially because this time Lucy remained conscious for it. She kissed him back like there was nothing else she’d rather be doing in the world, and Lockwood didn't disagree.
Lucy gave him a brilliant smile when they broke apart, her cheeks flushed a perfect shade of pink.
“Are you feeling okay?” Lockwood said, still clutching her tightly. He wasn’t taking any chances.
“Yeah, of course,” Lucy said, letting her arms wind around his neck. Her smile still hadn’t wavered.
“Excellent.” Lockwood let out a laugh, relief coursing through his veins. His head was spinning again, but now he couldn't imagine a nicer feeling. “That was so much better than the first time, wasn’t it, Luce?”
“Wait—” Lucy said slowly. “The first time…” Her eyes widened. “That was real?”