#lonely kipps just watch lockwood and lucy run off

[sweetieangel300]

Lockwood & Co. Season 1 : You Never Asked

Salt Sprinkler scene

[lucelockwood]

They’ve been in the papers almost non-stop since the fall of Fittes House. Lockwood, well-suited as always for the spotlight, enjoys the prestige and publicity of it all. Lucy just enjoys how happy it makes him. And, when warranted, she also enjoys teasing him for it.

Today, for example. They’re on the sofa in the living room a little after noon. Lockwood’s got his head in Lucy’s lap as he reads a feature piece titled A.J. Lockwood: The Man Behind the Mystery. For her part, Lucy is supposed to be writing up last night’s case. Instead, she’s watching Lockwood read and running the fingers of one hand slowly through his hair. He’s all but glowing with satisfaction today, making it difficult for Lucy to focus on anything but him.

She suspects this was his plan all along.

“That is an excellent article,” he says eventually, folding the paper neatly before tossing it to the floor. He’s trying to hide it, but he is immensely pleased.

“You come off as quite the cool character,” Lucy agrees, unable to stop her growing smirk. “They’ve painted a very flattering picture of you, haven’t they?”

Lockwood winks up at her. “More of a photograph than a painting, Luce.”

“It just seems to me that if the point of it was to take a closer look at the real you, you might have at least mentioned how long it takes you to do your hair each morning.”

“It doesn’t take me that long—”

“Or how bad you are at card games.”

“No one is actually good at card games, it’s all luck.”

“Or how much you love all this attention.”

There’s a brief moment of silence in which Lockwood reaches up to where her left hand is resting against the back of the sofa. He pulls her hand down, his fingers gripping hers gently. For all her teasing, the smile he throws up at her is easy, content. “I can’t argue with you there, Luce. I do quite enjoy the attention.”

His smile is contagious; Lucy can’t help but return it. “I’m well aware.”

“But,” he continues, turning his gaze on their hands, “if I’m being honest, it’s not as satisfying as it once was.”

Lucy can’t help but scoff at that. “The sheer amount of satisfaction rolling off of you while you read that article would suggest otherwise.”

“Oh, it’s exhilarating in the moment, but it never lasts,” Lockwood says. “There’s not really any substance to it. You’re news for a day and then someone else steps up and you have to do something even more spectacular to climb back up to the top, and frankly, I don’t think we’re ever going to top setting off a cluster charge in Penelope Fittes’s apartment.”

“I guess it’s all downhill from here, then.”

They’re both quiet for a moment. Lucy’s still running her fingers through his hair, thoroughly destroying his carefully set hairdo, but Lockwood doesn’t seem to mind that at all. He usually doesn’t, she’s found. His eyes flutter shut and they sit together in silence, thinking on what he’s said.

“I used to think that I had to keep the world at arm’s length,” Lockwood says at last, right when Lucy starts thinking that he might have drifted off. “That Anthony Lockwood was energized by the interviews and the publicity. He could tell the world what he wanted them to know and leave it at that. And he didn’t only apply it to the press. He treated you and George and anyone else in his life exactly the same way. It was easy. More importantly, it was safe.”

She’s surprised by the sudden confession, but it isn’t unwelcome. Even now, after months of quiet conversations and other, more intimate moments, she can’t help the thrill she feels when he confides in her. But it’s tempered by the compassion she feels for the Lockwood she’d first met. “What happened to him?” she asks after a moment.

“Someone he cared about very much left him.”

The words pierce her, and even though this is ancient history now, she still feels the need to apologize to that poor, lonely boy.

Before she can, he’s pressing a kiss to the hand he’s still holding captive. “It was exactly the wake-up call I needed, Lucy. I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two about letting the people I care about get close to me, and if I have, it’s all thanks to you.”

She doesn’t quite have the words to answer him just then, so she settles for squeezing his hand, her face warm.

Lockwood opens his eyes at last, grinning up at her. “In any case, I’m finding I much prefer attention that’s a little more personal. One on one. Private.”

“You like spending time with George, do you?”

Lockwood laughs in surprise and Lucy, despite the reappearance of her sass, feels her face growing just that much warmer. “I love spending time with George, but he’s got far better things to do than pay attention to a needy soul like me. Anyway, we usually end up bickering when he does.”

“Holly, then, or maybe Kipps,” Lucy fires back. Then she snaps her fingers, careful not to catch his hair. “No, I’ve got it. The skull in the jar. You were buddying up to him, weren’t you?”

“Lucy.” Lockwood’s still laughing, but it’s quieter, his expression softer. He’s still holding her hand in one of his, but the other is traveling slowly up her arm to her elbow and back again. “We have the best team in London, and you’ll never hear me speaking a single word against that skull again, but I’m afraid there’s one thing they all have going against them.”

Despite her attempts to maintain her composure, there’s a tremor in her voice when she responds. “And that is?”

He fixes her with a look so open and honest that it takes her breath away. “They’re not you.”

“Ah. It’s my attention you like.”

“It is. It really, really is.” He kisses her hand one more time before letting it go and sitting up. Lucy half expects him to leap up from the sofa and stride purposefully from the room—as he has done in similar situations, more times than she can count—but instead he shifts around so he’s sitting with his back to the room, angled towards her. His hair is thoroughly mussed, but since he’s Lockwood, of course the look suits him.

“More than all of this?” Lucy nudges the folded paper with her toes.

Lockwood doesn’t even glance in the paper’s direction. “I’d choose you a hundred times over.”

Despite her racing heart and healthy blush, something clicks in Lucy’s head, a suspicion from just a few moments ago. “So, when you wandered in here with that paper and saw me trying to get some work done, you really did thump your head down in my lap in the hopes of getting some attention?”

He’s grinning now. “You can hardly blame me, Luce, I feel like we really haven’t had any quality time for ages.”

Lucy pokes him in the chest. “Literally yesterday, at this same time.”

“Like I said, ages.” He looks down at her hands, as if he’s contemplating reaching for them again. When he looks up at her from under his bangs, his expression is almost shy. “Besides, I happen to rather enjoy having your hands in my hair.”

She knows she’s scarlet, but he’s blushing too, and Lucy finds it extremely endearing. “Well,” she sighs after a moment, “if it matters that much to you, I suppose I could lavish attention on you from time to time.” Shifting so her legs are under her, Lucy goes up on her knees and places a slow kiss on his cheek.

Lockwood wraps an arm around her waist, keeping her close. “Do the chances of that increase if I lavish you with attention first?” he asks quietly, his breath stirring her hair.

Lucy grins up at him. “Oh, definitely.”

“Excellent.” Lockwood presses a quick, gentle kiss to her lips. “Because I’ve been wanting to do this for such a long time.”

He kisses her a second time, then a third, at which point Lucy stops bothering to keep track.

Her fingers do find their way into his hair again.