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Chapter Text

Lockwood-

Wafts of bergamot scented the air as I strode into the kitchen. It was precisely the welcome a top tier agent might expect after a challenging case. I joined George at the dining table while he handed me a fine cuppa of good, strong tea. Today’s brew was an Earl Grey which I had received as a gift from a grateful client. Such things were becoming more and more common, almost expected, given the way George went on about it when clients neglected to reward us for our talents. Could not blame him really, after all; we are the best psychical investigation agency in London and we’re finally receiving the appreciation we deserve.

The Problem was not quite yet in decline. DEPRAC had its work cut out for them in figuring out how to aid the ghosts on the Other Side to whatever laid beyond. That meant that London was still plagued by all manner of ghouls that terrorised its populace.

It was no wonder we were still kept busy, more so than ever given the agency’s sky-rocketing fame. Lockwood and Co has the best researcher, fencer, manager, and, of course, Listener. Lucy Carlyle was the greatest Talent in the world and she was mine. I mean, ours, of course. Ours. I looked over the newspaper as she entered the kitchen, the fresh scent of soap following her as she stifled a yawn. She had a habit of covering her yawns with the back of her hand. A feminine gesture that juxtaposed exquisitely with the callouses her hands had formed after years of rapier training. This morning, she wore a pale blue sweatshirt that was cropped at her waist, paired with high waisted jeans. It suited her curves well.

“Good morning,” she greeted sleepily and I echoed it back to her as she went about helping George with breakfast. Or, actually took over, more like. The next thing I knew, George had sat down right in front of where Lucy was preparing her breakfast plate from the pan of sausage and eggs that he had cooked up. As much as I had nothing but respect and friendship for the chap, his deadpan stare that interrupted my train of thought left me bristled.

“What?” I asked, mild annoyance knitting my brows together.

But my researcher did not falter in his scrutinising stare. “Sorry, mate, am I in the way of your perusal?” I took issue with his pointed tone and kicked him under the table. He kicked me back and sipped from his cuppa while beginning an unflattering doodle of me on the thinking cloth. The cheek! I have half a mind to dock his pay for that! Not that I would, an upstanding gent such as myself could never.

“Play nice, you two.” Lucy’s half-awake voice created an armistice of sorts between George and me. She soon joined us at the table at her usual spot and picked at her food while stifling yawns. Did she not sleep enough? “Holly still not here yet?”

“It's her day off, Luce,” I replied with a smile and lifted my tea. Avoiding George’s continued judgemental glances, I returned to reading the latest article praising my flawless leadership. Vaguely, I could feel Lucy’s gaze looking at the newspaper and I adjusted it so she could glance at the headlines if curious. A squeak sounded through the room as Lucy pressed her knife roughly onto her plate.

“Sorry, still asleep.” Lucy’s face was soon adorned with a flush. I chuckled at the thought of such a capable agent having a moment of bashful clumsiness. It is what I lo- liked about her. I meant liked.

Once again, I felt a pair of eyes watching me. I looked up, intending to flash a proper smile at Lucy, only to notice it was George staring. His deadpan stare oozed with a distinct lack of amusement. It was far too knowing for my liking. He had hinted before in the past that he knew about me and Lucy, but had kept out of it for the most part. Now, however, I caught him rolling his eyes and getting up with the excuse that he was finished with breakfast and had work to do.

Lucy and I exchanged glances before she broke the silence. “What’s up with him?”

“Stressed, I imagine. We have been rather overworked. Maybe it's time for all of us to have a holiday. I’ll give Barnes a call after breakfast, I’m sure we can direct some cases to DEPRAC to reassign for us. Holly can sort all that tomorrow.”

“A break sounds nice,” she remarked with a warm smile, one of the slight ones that tugged at the corner of her lips. “Wouldn’t mind catching up on sleep, maybe even going to that new pizza place George is always raving on about.”

“Then it's settled.” It was so easy to feel comfortable around her, especially when she looked at me like she was now; eyes lit up and a softened flush.

She had this warmth to her presence that made the team feel like they were her family. Little by little, she had thawed out the icy prison I had built myself into. Sometimes, I stopped to wonder exactly how that had happened. It was gradual, and before I knew it, I began to look forward to seeing her and missed her more than I thought possible when she left us.

Of course, things haven't always been easy for us. After we dealt with Marissa Fittes, I thought we were going to be together. After all, I had made it exceedingly obvious and doted on her endlessly. I even gave her a symbol of my affection in the form of my mother’s necklace. Ah, but she was shy and reserved when it came to such things. The last thing I wanted was to push her or pressure her into anything. When she joined me for that walk after putting the necklace on, she stumbled her words and fidgeted with her hands. In other words, she had acted in a very un-Lucy way. Had I made a real move, she might have run away again. Who knows?

No, for now, this was fine. Having her around brightened up 35 Portland Row and I could tell the others were happy to have her around. Holly was chattier, George felt more comfortable, and even Kipps smiled from time to time. She was the glue that held us all together, so the most important thing to do was to make sure she was comfortable. The last thing anyone wanted was for me to push her away again. I vaguely recalled George threatening me with a cast iron pan once… I refused to let it happen, even if it meant I had to pretend there was nothing aside from platonic affection between us.

—

George-

I had enough. After years of these two absolutely salivating over one another, it was becoming unbearable to witness the unending tension. Some days, I had half a mind to lock them in a room until they snogged it out of their systems. Perhaps ,if they admitted their feelings towards one another, then they could stop ogling each other and pretending they weren’t. Really, it was just annoying at this point. I thought they would have sorted themselves out after Lucy came back and made up with Holly. Apparently, they had a moment on the Other Side. Then the whole Fittes debacle slowed down any progress.

I had hoped all this mooning was over after I saw them go take a ‘walk’ together and they’d get on with it. No such luck. Flo finds it amusing, of course. “Oh, just leave them, Georgie. Locky will get there eventually. She just needs to make it more obvious that she feels the same.”

“More obvious? Yesterday, she was eyeing him so blatantly that she scratched her plate from pushing the knife too hard on her breakfast sausage… all because he smiled at her. It doesn’t bother you because you don’t have to live with them,” I insisted as we took in the afternoon breeze on Flo’s barge. We often liked to come here on the water. It was nice and peaceful. Today, I brought along a pizza for us to nibble on and Flo brought along glazed buns. Not to brag or anything, but this is what a healthy relationship looks like. Flo and I didn’t dance around one another for literal years. We got on with it, unlike Locky and Luce , the absolute muppets they are.

My internal monologue was interrupted by Flo’s pristine mischievous grin. “You know, maybe we could give them a little ‘nudge’. Bet that hoity toity Holly would help. Best not tell Kipps though, got a feeling he’d give us away or worse: get in the way.” And that was why Flo and I got on. Just love how her mind works. Her scheme was met with a grin of my own and we spent the rest of our outing ironing out the details.

—

As it turns out, Holly did want to help. In fact, I had never seen her beam that brightly. Had to wonder if she reserved that maniacal grin specifically for matchmaking hijinks. Almost felt badly for her ‘flatmate’, but then again, she was with Holly on purpose so… that one was on her really.

“That is brilliant! You are a genius, George!” Holly exclaimed across the cafe table, resulting in Flo flashing me a blatant ‘see? I told you so’ look before chomping down on a chip. I had to admit that their energy was contagious. Soon, I found myself snorting in amusement.

“Right so… orchestrating this plan will take finesse and a delicate touch.” Holly went on, giving her own input after we gave her the basic run down on Flo’s scheme.

“I’m plenty delicate,” I offered before stealing one of Flo’s chips.

Holly did not respond, instead she was deep in thought. “We need them both to think the other one planned it.”

Flo soon interjected. “It's all well and good to get them alone together with the right atmosphere. But guaranteeing they actually get on with it is another issue. One of us will have to be there in case one of them becomes stubborn.”

At this, both of them turned to stare at me. I glanced between them and rolled my eyes, “Stubborn? That would be ol’ Luce,” I sighed. “Yeah yeah, I’ll go and lock them in a room together or something if they drag their feet. Now, I can chat with Lockwood, but one of you has to get Lucy on board too. By which I mean, plant the seed of thinking about it. We play this right, and we’ll have a tension-free work environment by Christmas.”

“Don’t look at me.” Flo raised her hands in playful surrender and gave the poshest of the trio a pointed look.

Thankfully, Holly was nothing short of delighted to take on the role. “Florence, it would be my genuine pleasure.”

“Good. Now… call me Florence again and we’ll be having words, you and I. Seems we’re sorted plan-wise so I’ll be off, got a tip I’d like to get on top of. But I expect a full report later, Georgie.” She gave me an affectionate wink, which I responded to with a smile. Holly did not seem to notice as she was too busy rubbing her hands together, no doubt thinking about how best to corner Lucy.

—

Lucy-

It was my first full day off in ages. Now that the house was back in order, we could finally spend a free day doing anything we wanted! But now that I had free reign over how to spend my day, I had no idea what to do with myself. The sun poured into my attic bedroom as I glanced over to the burnt skull. Still no word from the Type Three who had saved us. It made me feel a little sad, especially on days like this. A part of me hoped he had found peace and moved on. Maybe his selfless act of saving us helped him get a ‘good word’ in or something. I sometimes discussed this with George, who at least was always happy to listen to my theories.

I got up off my bed and set aside a sketchbook I had just started. It was already full of doodles of some of the ghosts we had dealt with. The more memorable ones anyway. I guess I needed a hobby to get myself out of my own head.

Just as I was about to descend the steps, a very chipper Holly greeted me at the door. She had two cups of tea in each of her dainty hands. “Hi Lucy! Um, I was thinking maybe we could hang out?”

The offer was unexpected but not unwelcome. Next thing I knew, I was smiling too and allowing her in. We sat on my bed sipping tea and chatting. Holly was admiring my doodles and we spent a good hour reminiscing about the cases we had together. It was actually nice and I suddenly felt so silly for having disliked her for so long.

However, things took an awkward turn when she leafed to a page where I had sketched the hollow boy. It was, of course, done with Lockwood’s likeness and it made Holly’s smile falter. To her credit, she didn’t press me on it, but instead closed the sketchbook and looked up at me as if she had something on her mind.

“I know, I know… it's silly,” I began with a sigh. “I suppose you deserve an explanation though, given how things played out that night.” So I opened up to her about what really happened at Aickmere’s. Holly said nothing once I finished and instead gave me a sisterly hug, which made me think of my sisters back home. Maybe I should visit them eventually?

“It's not silly at all. We all know how much you care about Lockwood. I would have done the same as you if I had seen a ghost take my girlfriend’s form and predict her death.” How understanding she sounded, but something about what she said stuck out to me.

“What do you mean by ‘we all know’?” I asked carefully, confused by what she meant. After all that, he saw me as a sister. It was bloody typical for my first love to be unrequited, but I had just about made my peace with it and accepted that having him in my life was enough. Even if it was only platonic.

Holly only replied with a raise of her finely arched brows. For a brief moment, I was annoyed by her perfect looks. “Come on, Lucy. Everyone knows you’re both in love with each other. Everyone, that is, save the two of you.”

Heat spread from my cheeks down to my neck. Bloody hell, had I been that obvious? “I-its one-sided, Hols. He told me once he thought of me as a sister!” As much as I hated being called out, the recent weeks following our fated walk together had resulted in nothing between me and Lockwood. The walk had been lovely and I remember my heart racing so fast in my chest I thought it was going to implode. All that only for Lockwood to be a perfect gentleman and keep his distance. He loved me, sure, but not in a romantic way.

“I guarantee that you are the only one who thinks that. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes how he feels about you,” insisted Holly as she glanced into her now empty tea mug, as if debating on whether she fancied a refill. “It is most definitely not as a sister.”

I wasn’t having it. “Bonkers, the lot of you. I mean, there was a time I thought he felt it too, but nothing happened when I thought it would.” On some level, it felt good to talk to someone about this. As annoyed as I sometimes got with Holly, she was a good listener and seemed genuine in her desire to befriend me.

Her hand reached out to pat my arm. “What happened then? Maybe there is something there you didn’t notice. I may not have your talent, Lucy, but I’m pretty good at reading people.”

A long exhale escaped me and I figured what was the harm? Maybe it would help me process how things turned out anyway. So I showed her the beautiful sapphire necklace that had belonged to his mother. Even telling her what he said about it before our showdown with Fittes. Then what happened on our walk. “... I don’t know, Holls, at first he was looking at me with this affectionate smile as we walked. We spoke about our lives before I joined Lockwood and Co and ended up by the Tate ,overlooking the Thames. The sun was ready to set and it was the perfect moment for him to… to… well you know…”

“Snog you?” Holly finished unhelpfully, making me flustered with frustration.

“Well… yeah!” That earned me a chuckle and I raised my hands up in defeat as I fell back onto my pillow with a groan.

“Hmm.” She tapped her chin in thought, as if trying to deduce precisely why Lockwood did not take advantage of such a perfect moment. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but were you nervous, maybe fidgeting?”

“Of course I was bloody nervous! Maybe you’re a kissing expert, but I never had time for that sort of thing before!” I protested with exasperation.

Somehow that only had Holly plop down next to me with a giggle. “Seems Lockwood really cares about you. Maybe he thought he was pressuring you into something that you either weren’t ready for or weren’t sure you wanted. He could have kept his distance so as not to put you off. It might help if you made the first move, you know. Let him know you’re keen.”

Utterly annoying how logical she was being about the whole thing. “What if you’re wrong, then? What if he sees me as family? Then I try something and make things awkward. We live together! Think about working together after being rejected.”

“Maybe he thinks the same as you, ever thought of that?”

I shrugged.

“Ok, what if you knew for a fact he likes you romantically?”

The suggestion in her question made me give her a wide-eyed warning, “Holly, don’t you dare tell him anything I told you! Please promise me you won’t!”

At this, she put her hand up in an effort to calm me. “Yeah yeah, don’t worry Lucy. I would never betray your trust like that. That said, there are other ways to find these things out.”

Pacified by her sincere promise, I humoured her. “Such as?”

“George.” Triumph graced Holly’s lips.

“No way. He’d be absolutely unbearable if he knew!” 

“Lucy, I hate to break it to you but… he already knows.”

"Oh God..." Mortified, I rolled over to bury my face into my pillow and soon felt Holly consoling me with a pat. Thoughts ran across my mind as I thought over my options. If everyone knew, then there was nothing for it. I had to be proactive or risk further embarrassment. "... what was your plan?"

"Simple, really, we eavesdrop while George asks him about it."

"Eavesdrop? That's your plan!?" Incredulous, I had unburied my face long enough to give her a withering stare, only to be met with a shrug.

"It's that, or you keep doubting what everyone else knows. Your choice."

It was not a perfect solution. Far from it. In fact, the whole scheme made me feel wrong. As if I was betraying Lockwood's trust. But the part of me that wondered 'what if' had to be sated so I nodded numbly. For the record, Holly was far too chuffed about the whole thing. I made a mental note to find a way to embarrass her in front of her 'flatmate'.

-----

Chapter Text

Part 2 - Distractions

George-

Holly was nothing if not efficient. That woman was more competent than half of DEPRAC. Getting Lucy to do anything she did not want to do without Lockwood’s smile was close to impossible. Yet, somehow, Holly had managed to win over her cooperation. Finally, we were getting somewhere! Now, the next phase of the plan could commence. For that to happen, I had to now do my bit with ‘Locky’.

Right, what does he do with himself on a night off? Library. Yes. Good. I caught a glimpse of him there and glanced over to Holly to give her the thumbs up. She, in turn, pressed a finger to her lips in Lucy’s direction. The signal given, I strode into the library and shut the door behind me to give the illusion of privacy when in fact Lucy would be listening from the other side. Once one stubborn agent was dealt with, the rest should go smoothly.

As expected, Lockwood looked up from his book. Ah, a book was it now? Seems he’s progressed from newspapers and gossip rags. With any luck, I could cultivate the philistine out of him. But first things first, rid my workplace and home of this unbearable pining. “Alright, mate?”

He raised his brow at me after noticing the door closing. “Everything okay, George? Figured you would be on your way to visit your family by now.”

“I’m going in the morning, but there was something I had to sort out beforehand.” I settled into my usual armchair and leisurely steepled my fingers together so he’d know I meant business. “As my ‘employer,’ you have to make sure this is a pleasant workplace, right?”

Lockwood closed the book and set it on an end table so he could rest his elbow on the arm rest. Only to give me a questioning twitch of his eye. “Where are you going with this, George?”

This was it, time to delicately tell him to confess his feelings. “You and Lucy need to talk. I am not alone when I say I’ve had enough of the longing looks and tension during jobs. Get it sorted and we can get on.” Well, I was no Holly Munro.

Lockwood and I had known each other long enough for him to do me the favour of not denying his part in it at least. “Leave it alone, George, she doesn’t like me in that way.”

I groaned, this was going to be more difficult than Combe Carey Hall. “Oh come off it, Lockwood, of course she does. Has a single day gone by where she hasn’t worn one of the necklaces you gave her? No.”

Still, he was in denial. “Listen, I thought so too for a while, but she’s uncomfortable when things get more… you know. We lost her once, George, if I push her too much then she just might end up leaving again if things get awkward. Remember how upset you were the last time it happened? What I want is irrelevant. We’re not losing her again. End of discussion.”

I knew better than to carry on at that point and got up. “Fine, I’ll stay out of it.” I wasn’t going to though.

At least now we understood why there hadn’t been any progress between them. Hopefully, this was enough to convince Lucy. With Lockwood returning to his book, I stepped over to the door and turned it. On the other side, I caught Holly and Lucy retreating back into the kitchen. I followed them and put the kettle on, I’d need a cuppa after that.

“So now you know…” Holly muttered over to Lucy who seemed to be processing what she had heard. But the latter didn’t linger and mumbled some excuse to go back to her room.

Left alone to our scheming, we exchanged exhales. “Muppets, both of them.” I offered.

Holly agreed., “Now we just need to get them out of the house separately tomorrow long enough to set up.”

As if divine providence itself was equally fed up with my housemates, the perfect excuse rang through the telephone. We both heard Lockwood pick it up himself, his voice stiffer than normal. I probably annoyed him enough for him to forget to use his charm.


—


Lockwood-

“Inspector? How unexpected, I thought we were due to catch up after our time off,” I began after hearing DEPRAC’s finest on the other line.

The man old enough to be my dad at least had the grace to sound apologetic. Christ, it must be important if he’s empathising with me. “I know, I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important. I need you to come in tomorrow, we have representatives from the Schengen Area arriving and they want to meet you.”

“The Schengen Area?” As far as we knew, the heart of the Problem had originated here in the British Isles as we had proved by uncovering Marissa Fittes’ involvement in its spread. The rest of the world suffered from it but at a smaller scale.

“We have reason to believe the Orpheus Society has been busy spreading its agenda abroad… at an alarming rate. The worst may be over here, Lockwood, but it is only increasing in the likes of Paris and Madrid. At this rate, it will be years before we can break every fence, or even find them. But with your team… maybe that can be sped along.” Barnes rarely sounded this desperate, it unnerved me.

I knew what he was really asking for: Lucy Carlyle’s Listening talent. As far as anyone knew, she was the only agent capable of full conversations with Type Threes, the rarest of Visitors. I made sure few people outside of those we trusted would know of the full scope of her abilities. Lucy herself shied away from the spotlight. “There are other agencies, Inspector. Surely you can mobilise an organised effort to-”

But he cut me off. “Just like we did during the Chelsea outbreak? No. You wanted to head the best agency in London, now that’s happened. That means you have the responsibility to make yourself useful. See you at 10, Lockwood.” Just like that, he hung up on me.

The new hallway mirror Holly had selected reflected back dark circles around my eyes. I looked away and swore under my breath but couldn’t bring myself to say anything to the others yet. Maybe I could sort it out with Barnes in the morning. With any luck, I could keep Lucy out of it. She had done enough and the least I could do for her sake was prevent Lockwood and Co. from yet another life threatening job. Something of this scope would be time sensitive given we were all on the brink of losing our talents. Holly was already reporting her own fading bit by bit. If Lucy’s abilities were to become public… they would put her on the frontlines immediately and I refuse to allow that.

A rustling sound stirred me from my thoughts to see George standing just down the hallway, an apologetic crease to his brow. He must have heard some of it. “How bad is it?”

“I don’t know yet, but it’s not good, George.”

“Lockwood, I’m-” he began but I knew where he was going with it. I placed my hand on his shoulder and silenced him as I walked past him and went down to our offices.

“Don’t give it another thought,” I told him in an attempt to let the matter rest.


—


Lucy-

It was a sort of elation mixed with self-loathing that I felt after going along with Holly and George’s plan. I’ve never been happier to be proven wrong, but I had also found my answer unethically. I cursed at myself for not only misleading Lockwood, albeit unintentionally, but also listening in on a private conversation. It made me feel gross, standing in the shower in an attempt to wash that off.

How long had I spent under the running water? I couldn’t tell. The steam helped calm me down a little. Not enough, but it was something. Sitting on my bed in pyjamas, I processed what Lockwood said and felt my face heat in embarrassment. How stupid could I be to so wrongly misread all of those signals? A frustrated groan slipped out and I found myself staring at the burnt skull on my window. After so long of being fed up with Skull, I missed him now. His remarks would at least provide me a push out of this slump.

Instead, I was left alone with my thoughts and the aforementioned self-loathing. So that walk had been a date after all. It was my nerves that put him off and it was me that had him worried I would leave again.

At some point past midnight, I sat up with renewed determination to make my feelings obvious once and for all. But not tonight. Some sleep would help and I needed to talk myself into doing something far more frightening than any Visitor… telling some stupid posh boy I fancied him.

—

That was the plan anyway. Of course, it couldn’t be that simple. Also, to clarify, I do mean simple, not easy. The following morning, I came down to a gloomy mood in the kitchen. Holly had made pancakes. Normal pancakes. Not buckwheat waffles or whatever healthier alternative she’d push onto us. Lockwood had opted for coffee rather than tea. To make matters worse, George’s plate was half-eaten. Just what on earth happened? I asked as much before joining them at the table.

“We don’t know yet, Luce,” Lockwood explained, but he showed me the front of the newspaper as if it would help clarify. “Going to see Barnes in a bit, so I’ll know more when I get back.”

For once, the Problem in London was not front page news. Instead, I read headlines of turmoil in Paris. By the sounds of it, they were suffering their own version of the Chelsea incident in the 11th arrondissement. My face furrowed as I read. “I don’t understand, how can that possibly be happening? We stopped Fittes and the Orpheus tossers… didn’t we?”

As if in response to my reaction, Holly added strawberries to my pancakes and laid them in front of me with some tea. It felt like giving a pacifier to a baby. But it did help me put down the paper and tuck in. If there were others messing about on the Other Side, I needed a full stomach to deal with it.

“We thought we did.” George added, “But clearly this Orpheus lot is harder to squash than a cockroach infestation.”

I nodded and looked over to Lockwood who had just downed the remains of his coffee. “But if Barnes called you in…?”

He then gave me one of his signature smiles, specially intended to soothe any concern. It worked. “Don’t worry, Luce, I’ll make sure we don’t have to get involved. We already know what causes these outbreaks so we already did their job for them. I’m sure they just want to ask me some questions in a consultant capacity.”

“You’ll tell us everything later, right?” Holly asked, now tidying up.

“Of course, but trust me on this one. Remember, the rest of Europe is outside of our jurisdiction. Our job is the same as it always has been. We’re only cleaning up Marissa’s mess here at home. Nothing more. Understand?”

There were murmurs of reluctant agreement, but I could tell that this new development worried us. We had been so close to solving the Problem, only to have it worsen abroad. At least hauntings were seeing a decline in London. That was something to be proud of. As my eyes trailed over the newspaper headline again, I couldn’t help but get a sinking feeling that we were just getting started. 


-----

Chapter Text

Lockwood-

A car had been sent at 9:30 sharp. Clearly, Barnes wanted me over at DEPRAC early. The whole thing had me clenching my jaw during the ride over. Was it dread? Concern? Hard to tell. My only thoughts were of doing everything possible to keep Lockwood and Co. firmly out of international psychical investigations. We had more than enough on our plates right here in London. After all, I often made the front page now and the agency was flourishing. For once, we were firmly out of the red and saving more money than we spent.

However, an invasive thought prodded me just then - the prospect of worldwide acclaim. I could see the headlines now; ‘London’s finest rescue France’, ‘Lockwood and Co. ain’t afraid of no Spanish Inquisition ghosts!’, ‘The Fall of Rome’s ghouls; provided for by Anthony Lockwood’s premier investigation team’.

Tempting. Very tempting. My face on the covers of French Vogue and Spanish newspapers. They would interview me about my timeless London style and wonder why such a catch was still single…

Lucy. Damnit. Focus, Anthony, focus. I’m here to protect her from all of that, not become Europe’s most eligible bachelor. Not that it would do me any good, considering the woman I love thinks of me as a brother. No one else could ever compare, not when it was Lucy who felt like home. Not when it was her laugh and smile that I looked forward to day after day. For that reason, any romantic offers coming my way were gently turned down with one of my signature smiles. Much to the shock of Kipps. Annoyingly, George did not seem surprised by every young lady or gent who I turned down.

The car came to a halt and stirred me away from my train of thought. I was promptly invited to join Barnes in one of the meeting rooms to discuss strategy. Jill, the cheery young receptionist, offered me a beverage. “You’re very kind, Jill. Just the usual, if you please.”

Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as she ran off to get my Lockwood Special whilst an officer led me the rest of the way. The room itself was composed of a large oval table with office chairs arranged around it. Snacks and stacks of papers were upon it. The people in the room however were a surprise. I had not expected agents my age. There were three foreign agents and five adults aside from Barnes, who was already making introductions. “This is Mr. Lockwood, head of Lockwood and Co. Now may I introduce Mr. Arnaud Dubois of the Bureau de la Défense Psychique, DEPRAC’s French equivalent with Agent Laurent Barre, their top Talent. He is a gifted Listener, like Lucy Carlyle.” He then added for their sake, “One of Mr. Lockwood’s most talented agents. Also, here we have Mr. Alvaro Da Silva and Mrs. Ana Morales of the Iberian Centre for Paranormal Investigation with their top talents as well. This is Agent Gabriela Diaz and Agent João Araujo. Representing Germany, we have Miss Wagner whom you will recognise as the face of Wagner Eisen, also founders of the agency of the same name. Finally, there is Mr. Frederico Mezzasalma from Ministero della Difesa Paranormale.”

I made sure to give them all firm handshakes, pairing my more charming smiles for the ladies present. Gabriela Diaz shot me a small smirk in response and I felt her index finger lingering briefly on my wrist. She was a Spanish beauty with loose dark curls and warm brown eyes who held herself with an easy confidence. “Encantada, Señor Lockwood.” She said by way of introduction, pronouncing my name with a Mediterranean charm. I admit, she was disarmingly alluring.

Meanwhile, Laurent Barre and João Araujo both made efforts to return my firm handshakes. Only João smiled amiably. The adults themselves had the general self-importance of those in their position and Arnaud Dubois strongly reminded me of Steve Rotwell. At least Ana Morales knew a leader when she saw one and beamed at me while we shook hands. It was business as usual with the rest.

Now assembled and introductions made, Jill entered the room with a cart of coffees and teas to distribute to DEPRAC’s esteemed guests. Barnes, however, was as brisk and to the point as ever. “Now that we are all here, please take your seats. We have a lot of information to get through.”

A young male officer was setting up a slide projector on one side of the room as we all took our seats. The agents decided to sit together at the end so the adult representative could sit in front. I found myself between Gabriela and Laurent. Satisfaction flooded me when I realised I had been selected as Britain’s top talent representative. Armed with that knowledge, I held up my chin with the dignity my agency deserved. I also internally thanked Barnes for having the foresight not to invite George as he surely would have shown up in jeans and ignored most of the representatives here. Ah, but I am digressing. Barnes was explaining the recent outbreaks specifically in Paris and Madrid, showing slides with red circles to indicate activity along with dates explaining their rate of appearance.

The patterns were reminiscent of the Chelsea outbreak, which made me frown. “As Mr. Lockwood here can tell you, we have recently dealt with hauntings of this scale and know the root cause of why they occur. Of course, that is exactly why we are all here today. This is sensitive information that we have carefully kept out of the general public. Hence, why only those dealing directly with hauntings have been given security clearance. Now, you have all signed NDAs and your respective governments only know as much as they need to know.” He paused to look at everyone rather pointedly. Arnaud Dubois rolled his eyes and bid him to continue in more fluent English than I had expected.

Noon came around before Barnes and I had finished explaining the nature of the Other Side and the Orpheus Society. I was correct to an extent when I told the others I was there in a consultant capacity. If all they needed was information, then it was possible this would be the end of it. I was feeling more positive then as we briefed our mainland counterparts. All in all, it was an enjoyable experience, especially seeing the shocked and impressed expressions around the table. Thankfully, Barnes had prepared evidence and photography to convince them all of it was true. Apparently, the plan was to escort them to the Other Side with the new equipment DEPRAC developed for the sole purpose of Spirit Gate travel the following day.

We soon broke for lunch and Barnes put an end to any hope I had of avoiding getting more involved. “We will meet back here in an hour to discuss strategy. Mr. Lockwood, a word.”

The others had been filing out and following Jill to DEPRAC’s dining hall when Barnes stopped me from doing the same. “I think all that covers any information I can assist with, Inspector. Surely, I can go home now?” I had just been able to put my long coat back on, when he raised a palm to stop me.

The older man looked like he had not slept of late. “It's not that simple, Lockwood. We are assembling the European Commission for Paranormal Defense together. DEPRAC will continue as a branch of it. In an effort to contain these outbreaks and eradicate the Problem, we are pooling together the best of the best in Talents, new defences, and equipment and they want your agency training and assisting what will be known as an elite agent taskforce. A nimble unit able to move across borders to locate these spirit gates so the adults can come in and guide the Visitors beyond.”

More than once, the word ‘elite’ bounced through my mind but I firmly shut it down. “With all due respect, Inspector, it is not our jurisdiction to operate outside of-” 

The old bastard cut me off. “Lockwood, you will have jurisdiction once everything is official. Think of what this will mean for your future and for the future of your agents. Even when your Talent fades, you all will be set for the rest of your lives with these kinds of connections. Not to mention being part of the team that will go down in history as the one who solved the Problem.” He knew me long enough to be fully aware of the effect of his words.

Well, shit . George would never speak to me again if he couldn’t be a part of this. Kipps was the most likely to throttle me if he lost this sort of opportunity. No doubt Holly wouldn’t mind having access to international connections. There was still Lucy, who would never let us do any of this without her there to help us. Selfless, caring, Lucy, whom I had just sworn I would protect from this. But if there was one thing I learned about her the hard way, it was to let her make her own choices about missions.

“I will discuss this with my team and get back to you,” I finally said, conceding that it was at least worth a discussion with the others.

“You have two days to respond. By week’s end, I want you and your team on the first flight out to Paris. Now go get some lunch, we still have to discuss how this will work.”


—


George-

Everything was ready. Not that I did much, really. This was all Holly’s handiwork and I would deny involvement in it until my dying breath. I mean, who would believe I helped her de-petal dozens of roses to make a trail leading up to the kitchen? All I really did was get takeaway that cost more than a tenner and set it up all posh-like. Thought Lockwood would appreciate that bit and Lucy would like the flowers. But did she even like roses? Holly insisted they were only for effect.

Flo provided the candles and I couldn’t help but wonder where exactly she had found so many of them. The hallway of 35 Portland Row looked right out of a cheesy romcom film. It was appalling, cringey, cliche and perfect. Yes, this would do nicely. It was overt enough that Lucy couldn’t deny its meaning and grand enough that Lockwood would have to accept Lucy’s feelings.

The trap was set. The pieces in place.

Holly had dropped Lucy off at a salon after spending the better part of the day shopping, only to return here and whip up this bit of tomfoolery. So she was due back any minute. As for Lockwood, he said he would be back within the hour, seemingly held up at DEPRAC.

Now the others just had to make themselves scarce. Flo had left after seeing the set-up, not that I blamed her… sensible lady like her. Holly was humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like a wedding march as she slipped on her jacket to go home. I regretted having involved her then. I could see it now, Holly badgering Lockwood to pick out a nice ring. Holly slyly asking Lucy how things were going. Holly pointedly suggesting I move out to give the newlyweds more space… maybe this was a bad idea. Was it too late to back out?

With a sigh, I went into the scene of the crime, or kitchen as it was previously known, and set up a snack tray for myself. Leftover curry, biscuits and the largest mug of tea I could rummage. Now I was ready to leave the lovebirds to it. I had just enough time to drop off my survival food kit before I heard the door. An audible gasp filling the silence.

Oh so very carefully, I peeked through the stairs to see Lucy. Well, she looked different. Hair in waves, makeup and wearing something I’d never seen before. In hand she had shopping bags and was looking around with a watery glance. That meant she was moved, right?

Point to Holly! If Lockwood reacted as well as Lucy then I would finally be able to test out my new earplugs. Excellent. No more pining, mooning or pretences. All out into the open. I could finally get some work done!

—

I was making excellent progress into my research paper for DEPRAC with an extensive analysis on the Other Side. The typewriter punched with the most satisfying clicks. Lucy had even provided drawings of what we had seen so I could include them. All in all, it was shaping up to be a good night. That is, until Quill Kipps strode through the front door before Lockwood had a chance to.

Bloody hell, we had completely forgotten about him. He had said something about checking in tonight after getting back from his mini-break. So he would assume we all knew he was returning at this exact time and Lucy had no indication on who had set up the romantic dinner yet. Oh God…. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

No. No. No no no no no no. Abort mission!

I practically shot out of my desk after hearing his voice and quietly descended the stairs to see what was going on. Sure enough, I could hear Lucy’s nervous chuckles coming from the kitchen as Quill had made some funny remark. Not likely, but I forgave her humouring him given the circumstances.

“You look nice, Carlyle. I’m… famished actually.” He sounded bashful. Oh God, no. WHY!?

“Oh, was this… of course. I remember you said you were coming back tonight. Um, thank you Kipps.” Why is everyone I work with a simpleton? Could she not see that he clearly wasn’t behind this? Kipps isn’t a candlelight and dinner chap, he’s a chippie and pint chav!

I had to subdue a groan. This was veering off the plan very quickly.

“Maybe you know, we should start using our first names. I mean, we have been working together awhile now.”

“Right, so uh… Quill, how was your trip back home?” At least she was being awkward but I knew Lucy well enough to know she was blushing with embarrassment right now.

I had to think of a way to stop this.

The door creaked open again and I saw Lockwood walk in with a tired exhale. He had not even noticed the candles or rose petals yet. As soon as his coat was hung up however, his eyes went wide at the scene. Only for Kipps to interrupt whatever thought process was going on with a loud laugh coming from the kitchen.

It was like watching a train crash. You knew what was coming but were powerless to stop it. I couldn’t watch. Best to lie low until they all calm down.


—


Lucy-

The dinner looked delicious but the candles and the rose petals confused me. This wasn’t like Lockwood. Not at all. I always imagined him being more discreet than this. A posh one like him would have preferred being waited on in a restaurant, right? I wasn’t so sure at this point. Holly must have been in on it, considering the primping and pampering she talked me into.

At least I looked nice. Had on a new black flowing skirt that stopped just above my knees and a white blouse. Not my usual style but Holly had been so effortlessly convincing at the shop. The spa she took me to before had likely relaxed me enough to be willing to agree to the salon visit. 

Oh yes, she was definitely a co-conspirator.

Only, it was Quill Kipps who strode in after I had been anxiously waiting at the table. He wore jeans and a black leather jacket. Nicer than usual. Awkward. If this was his handiwork then I had to let him down gently, after having dinner. I mean, it wasn’t the food’s fault!

He had just sat down and made an attempt to break the awkwardness with a joke when the door opened again. Kipps and I fell silent as we exchanged questioning frowns. Maybe this wasn’t his plan afterall? Now I was really confused. Did we walk into George’s plan for Flo or something?

Half-expecting our researcher to crane his head in and tell us to get lost, I began to stand up. Only to meet Lockwood’s open mouthed reaction. He looked from me, to Kipps, to the food, behind him to the rose petals then to the candles and finally back to me. “Apologies, I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?”

“Lockwood, don’t be daft! This isn’t what it looks like.” I immediately cut in before he could sprint up the stairs. I caught him pause in the hallway before walking back in, determination deepening the intensity of his dark eyes.

“What does it look like, Luce?” The way he asked such a simple question flooded me with guilt. Even though I had done nothing! Was he being serious?

“How am I supposed to know! I thought this was your doing!” I shot back hotly.

“My doing? If I was going to plan dinner with you Luce, I wouldn’t have used roses! You obviously like daisies! Also takeaway? Come on, I would have cooked for you.” We were arguing but it felt more like a lover’s squabble. I felt my face heating up as he explained what a date with me would have looked like.

Meanwhile, Kipps seemed to have caught on that this had all in fact been one big misunderstanding judging by the horrified way his eyes widened. “Listen, clearly this is none of my business. Tony, I just came back to this and saw Carlyle sitting here.” He made a general gesture to me in an up and down motion with his hands, as if he was keen to clarify any confusion. However Lockwood’s stare made me think he was imagining how to stab Kipps. “Maybe I should just check back in tomorrow?” Kipps asked, starting to get up and slide out of the chair.

“Sit.” Lockwood uttered with such firm authority that the older man sat right back down without protest. “I’m calling a team meeting and you may as well make yourself useful, seeing as you’re comfortable enough to think you were on a date, in my home, with my best agent.”

“Agent?” I asked slowly, fury scorching out any flush I had lingering. My ‘boss’ turned pale and immediately backtracked. "Is that all I am?"

“I did not mean that Luce. I’m sorry, look… It has been a long day and then I came home to this.” He gestured to the untouched candlelit dinner. “With you and him.” An accusatory point at Kipps. “What was I supposed to think?”

“You were both supposed to think it was the other’s idea but then this glorified spoon turned up and mucked it all.” George’s voice dripped with exasperation as he strode on in. “For the record, I argued against the petals.”

Idly, Kipps picked at the takeaway spread hoping to get a nibble while pretending the past twenty or so minutes had not happened.

“I see, that’s why Holly kept me out of the house.” It was obvious now. I wanted to kick myself for not seeing it sooner. Out of the corner of my eye, Lockwood glanced at me as if trying to figure out what I was thinking. I opened my mouth to say more but remembered George and Kipps were around.

“I told you to stay out of this, George.” Lockwood sounded furious at his oldest friend. Worse still was the calm fury that emanated from him before he added, “I’ll deal with you later, we have something important to discuss. Tell Holly to come tomorrow. Yes, our holiday is cancelled. I need you all here for the team meeting.”

George however had entered the kitchen with purpose. He shoved a plate of food at Kipps to carry and began to drag him out. “Right, I’ll call Holly for that team meeting then, shall I? Kipps, come eat in my room.” The oldest in our group did not need telling twice. Soon I was left behind in the kitchen with Lockwood. He loosened a long exhale before sitting down. I put the kettle on, knowing exactly what he needed in moments like these.

“So… daisies, huh?” After everything Holly told me and what I overheard, I knew I had to be bolder. So I had broken the silence while getting two tea mugs ready. My back was to him so he could not see my face heat up again. I wasn’t really mad, mostly just confused. Oddly, I felt a distant pang of affection for George and Holly. They were only trying to help. This was my fault really, I should have been more vocal about my feelings.

The chair scraped on the tiled floor while I added sugar to my tea. The next thing I knew, my employer was leaning against the kitchen counter next to me. So close that our arms could almost brush together. There was a static between us that made me bite my lip. Still, I refused to look over at him. “Daisies,” he affirmed. “Maybe blue hyacinths because they’d suit you. Homemade Italian food as well. I know you love your pasta, Luce. Then battenburg cake for dessert. I’d pair it all with a cabernet sauvignon. More for my benefit but I think you'd be pleasantly surprised."

Lockwood spoke of our hypothetical date with an unreadable tone. Calm now that the offending parties had retreated upstairs. But still forlorn? I wasn’t sure. 

Our teas were done and as I set my spoon down, I felt the warmth of his hand next to mine. My pinkie brushed against his and in a moment of boldness, I wrapped mine around his. Just like that, our eyes met and I knew this was it. "I would have liked that..." A pause before pushing my luck a little, "...Anthony."

His expression softened and I knew I had not misheard him yesterday when speaking to George. The tenderness in the way he looked at me wasn't how he'd look at a sister. "It's been a long time since anyone called me that," Lockwood muttered, his fingers weaving together with mine.

My pulse quickened and I was suddenly vividly aware of the shape of his mouth. "Does it bother you?" I didn't know my voice could be that demure. I'd never hear the end of it from the others if they knew.

"No, not when you say it." Was it just me or was he nervous? Oh but I could feel his breath now as he inched closer and it was making my mind go blank. 

Something in the back of my mind was bothering me, however, "A-about that walk we took… I owe you an apology. I know I put you off and we misread the situation that day but I… w-what I mean to say is that…" Great moment to stutter Carlyle. Are you the agent who took down Fittes or not? 

Sensing the turmoil I was going through, Lockwood spared me having to spell it out. "I know, Luce. I'm sorry too. After everything that's happened, I was scared of losing you again."

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise." My voice was so low that he'd likely have to strain to hear me. The truth is, I felt guilty over leaving the first time. Even if I had my reasons.

I could just about taste his lingering cologne as he leaned in. My eyes closed and lips parted with no small amount of expectation… only for the posh bastard to simply reach for his mug of tea and flash me a smug grin. "I know you're not, Luce." He began to walk away from me after I practically puckered up for him! The cheek! 

"Where do you think you're going!?" I burst out, flushed with both embarrassment and righteous fury.

"What? Were you expecting to be kissed just then?" I threw a spoon at him which he dexterously dodged with a laugh. 

His grin intensified as he leaned against the kitchen doorway and lifted his tea in a toasting motion. "When I finally kiss you Lucy Carlyle, it won't be in my kitchen. Now if you excuse me, there is a former Fittes agent inside my house who needs escorting out."

He left. I repeat, the bastard left. As in me, alone… in the kitchen. After nearly kissing me! I was flushed with white hot rage. It only cooled after remembering how happy his grin had looked then. Happier than I'd ever seen him. Ah, so this was a game now was it? Posh London boy thinks he can best me, does he? Well fine, I'll show him and make him grovel. 


-----

Chapter Text

Lockwood-

All in all, everything went as expected the following morning. George had insisted we cooperate with this taskforce so we could have a chance to further study the Problem. He had gone off on a tangent about the nature of the Other Side and how to best seal it off to avoid further meddling. At some point, Kipps had stopped him and said he’d be keen to come along if it meant he could make connections and salvage his career. Holly sounded most excited about the fact DEPRAC is covering our travel expenses to Paris. Of course, I had to reiterate to her that this was a work trip and we would likely be walking into a warzone.

The reminder of the Chelsea outbreak dimmed our enthusiasm for the task. Yet, facts were facts. We knew the most about the gates and Barnes needed Lucy’s talent to help solve this. I assured everyone that the foreign agents and representatives knew nothing about the extent of it.

Only one voice remained silent: Lucy. Since last night, she had been avoiding direct eye contact with me and ignored me when I greeted her over breakfast. I began to worry until I saw her blush and wave off Holly’s giddy little smile. George, however, decided to keep his attention on me, seemingly displeased by how his plan went awry. I made a mental note to have a chat with him later.

“What do you think, Luce? I have no problem telling Barnes we decline the offer of this new European Commission for Paranormal Defense. We have done enough as far as I’m concerned.” I meant it too, or thought I did. A year ago, I would have made the choice for everyone and we would already be on the first flight out. Things had changed since then, since I saw Lucy face Marissa Fittes alone for my sake.

Lucy bit her lip in thought, redness from Holly’s teasing still tinged her cheeks and I caught myself staring at her lips. The memory of her leaning in last night lingered on my mind. She had looked stunning and it was more difficult to resist the urge to give in to her than I cared to admit.

It wasn’t the right time, Anthony, you know that. Besides, you’re too bloody stubborn to do something because your mates set it up. Grow a pair and ask her properly! She deserves that much for putting up with you!

George cleared his throat, along with the fog that had clouded my mind for a moment. I could hear Lucy speak and focused on that. “I know this is an incredible opportunity for everyone. Kipps and Holly, especially. Our Talents won’t last forever either… that being said, I’m not sure how much I can help without the Skull. We never would have gotten far without his guidance. Honestly, I don’t know how much help I can actually be without him.”

I had not realised she missed the hellion, but I could hear it in her voice now. It made me frown. “Luce, you are the greatest Listener since Marissa Fittes. No, greater. With or without a Type Three ghost telling you where the Visitors are. We’ve all seen your gift get stronger since we’ve known you. Regardless of that, you owe this new Commission nothing. I’ll deal with it if you say no, ok? We either all go together or not at all.”

Although still cross with me, the muscles around her eyes lost their tension. “I appreciate that, Lockwood, really. Alright, let’s do it. Who else is going to help Barnes, if not us?”

“Hear, hear!” Kipps added with a clap onto the kitchen table. He had also avoided looking at me, but at least he had the manners to avoid looking at Lucy, too. To his credit, he had brushed off the faux pas with relative ease.

“Are you sure?” George asked. Being the most enthusiastic out of everyone, I had to appreciate his consideration for Lucy.

“Yeah, this won’t be like before. From what it sounds like, we will have equipment for protection and full support. Local cooperation too. We do this and we won’t have to worry when the last of our Talent fades, right?”

Sudden fear washed through me, but I brushed it off with a grin. I realised what had changed: I wanted all of us to have a future. That certainty steeled my resolve to keep everyone and myself safe. After all, I made Lucy a promise. “Alright, time to call Barnes. We leave first thing on Friday so get packed everyone,” I announced, much to the excited cheers of the others. This would be our greatest challenge to date.

My grin became genuine as Lucy and I exchanged glances. While the others discussed what to pack and how long for, I gave her a wink. The expression I was rewarded with was everything I had aimed for. She blushed again and gave me that adorably angry look of hers as if I embarrassed her. How many ways can I make her blush? I was eager to find out.


—


The week flew by and before we all knew it, we were boarding a flight along with the other agents I had previously met. I had not expected that. Much less Barnes coming along as our self-appointed adult supervisor and DEPRAC’s British representative. For whatever reason, he didn’t trust us to work without him and had pointedly sat next to me on the flight to discuss new safety protocols in thorough detail. I fought the urge to groan.

The aeroplane was designed for short sprints and therefore only had 4 seats per row and two columns. I noticed George and Holly were going over theories and studying a map of the French capital. Or, to be more accurate, Holly was listening to George.

Barnes began to go on about wearing silver thread capes at all times when I glanced over to see Kipps chat happily to Gabriela Diaz, who was idly playing with her glossy curls. The pretty Spanish agent had invited him to sit with her and they appeared to be laughing about something she said. Judging by the way he was grinning like the idiot he is, she either made a joke or he wanted to snog her. The latter seemed more likely to me.

Where was Lucy? I had originally asked her to sit with me, but of course, I was shanghaied by Barnes and his droning. The plan had been to hold hands and see if I could get her to squirm with just a low tone and smile. I finally caught sight of her sitting alone in a window seat near the front. That is, until the unwanted likes of agent Laurent Barre joined her. My fists clenched over the seat’s armrests when I saw the way he looked at her. There was definitely an ulterior motive behind that French bastard’s friendly smile.

“Nervous flyer, Lockwood?” Barned asked. I shrugged and he took that as a sign to remind me of the importance of following the chain of command. Apparently, my genius leadership was to be stifled by adult ineptitude.

I vaguely recall agreeing with whatever my new ‘boss’ (apparently) was saying, but I wasn’t giving him my full attention. Instead, my eyes fixated onto Laurent, who had introduced himself to Lucy with a handshake and a cheek kiss. He even ripped off my style with fitted trousers and a button down shirt. Of course, he didn’t even have the fashion sense to remember the coat and tie.

A fantasy emerged in mind where he ‘accidentally’ fell into the Seine river. Worse still, she seemed… excited to meet him? Why, Luce, why? Now, he was making her laugh.

You’re being stupid Anthony. Lucy knows we’re an item now. It was blatantly obvious and she even tried to kiss you in the kitchen of all places.  

Satisfied with that thought, I returned my attention to Barnes.


—-


George -

Analysing the map of Paris, I began to realise how random the outbreak appeared. It was like the roads of an anthill with the worst being near the 11th Arrondissement. Thankfully, I had brought some books on the city’s history and had Holly help me find anything useful. She was happy to be of help and took notes for me on possible theories.

“It has to be the Parisian catacombs. It has never been fully mapped out and there are passages that probably haven’t been seen in centuries.” Sometimes, it helped me think to speak out loud.

Holly jotted that down thoughtfully. “Aren’t the catacombs the most haunted place in Paris? It's full of sources and it says here on the city guide that any entry points into them have been lined with iron gates with silver plating. Look at the photos, aren’t they beautiful? Seems they also spread salt all along the corridors for good measure.”

“Can’t blame them for that– can you imagine how big a force you would need to sweep a place like the catacombs? Far too dangerous for a group like ours to do it. I’d rather quit than be talked into it myself.” Probably rip Lockwood a new one if he ever suggested something like that. Whatever happened at Fittes would look like a small shade haunting compared to what we might find there.

Another possibility crossed my mind: what if there were more Type Three Visitors there? I suddenly rummaged through the inventory that Barnes had provided us. DEPRAC helped the newly formed Commission organise everything they would need to ensure the safety of officers and agents during the mission. Half the plane’s cargo was likely DEPRAC’s. Ah hah, yes! They did include silverglass. With luck, we could trap a Type Three and give Lucy a go at it to get more information.

Then an issue occurred to me: would those Visitors speak French? I was fairly sure Lucy didn’t speak French. I glanced around to find her on the other side of the aisle with that French Listener. “Hey Hols, remind me to ask Lucy if she can talk to that agent about translating for us.”

Dutifully, she made a note of that and looked around the cabin. I carried on, now trying to find out if we brought any books on psychic connection. It would be fascinating to observe how it affects language perception. After all, Lucy didn’t exactly use verbal speech  to talk to that skull or we would have heard it. What was more likely is that there is a psychic connection present. Maybe even capable of making language irrelevant. Almost like telepathic communication. It was worth further study. Instead of sharing my thoughts with Holly, I began to furiously add my theories to a small notebook I carried for such purposes.

Eventually, I glanced over to tell her about my observations only to find her giggling about something to herself.

“What’s so funny?” My brow raised at the unexpected reaction. She leaned in closer to whisper something to me which made me uncomfortable. Boundaries! Didn’t much like my space invaded and it made my eyes widen in surprise.

“Barnes has cornered Lockwood and that charming Laurent Barre has sat next to Lucy. You should see how he’s staring at them, as if he wants to challenge him to a duel for her hand or something equally archaic.” Amusement radiated off Holly. I glanced around to see Lockwood doing exactly as described. 

A long exhale escaped me as my attention was pulled from far more important matters to trivial ones. I removed my glasses to rub the bridge of my nose. “Tell me why our best friends are idiots.”

It was hypothetical, but Holly quipped a rather witty response. “That is far too much to unpack within a 45 minute flight, George.”

We both snorted. “Least Kipps looks like he’s having fun,” I pointed out.

“Too much, if you ask me. We’re here representing our country and he’s there mooning over a pretty face.” Holly sighed in slight disapproval.

“Lockwood isn’t any better.” I directed a thumb behind me in the general direction of our fearless leader.

“No, he isn’t,” She chuckled at that before adding, “Oh, did you read this bit?” The stapled stack of papers Barnes had given them to read about the mission was opened towards the end. “We’ll be getting backup coming along shortly after our initial analysis of the outbreak.”

“That will be a nice change.” It really was. How refreshing to work in a taskforce this prepared. As far as I could tell, even Barnes was ready to keep Lockwood’s recklessness in check.

Maybe this would actually go smoothly.


—


Lucy-

It pleased me to see Lockwood squirm under Barnes’s watchful eye during the flight. He had flirted with me during the days leading up to the flight, but I hadn’t given him much dice. I was still cross over that humiliating moment in the kitchen. He had a ways to go before I forgave him.

The flight over had been quick, but it was nice to meet some of the other agents we’d be working with. Joao was a cheerful sort and we all took a liking to him fairly quickly. The Portuguese agent was heavier set but had calluses on his hands, suggesting he’d be good with a rapier. Apparently his Touch was strong. I was not yet used to how Gabriela and Laurent greeted everyone however. Never had my face been touched so frequently by cheek kisses from strangers. 

There was one advantage to them, however, it made Lockwood bristle. For that reason alone, I seemed to have accidentally neglected to set any boundaries.

Gabriela bounced around the agents, chatting away about what Spanish ghosts were like. There was a self-assurance and fearlessness to her that strongly reminded me of Lockwood. They even had similar megawatt smiles.

On the way over to our temporary base from the airport, I noted that the adult representatives went their separate ways save for Arnaud Dubois, who was Laurent’s supervisor. The French agent himself came off as more reserved than our Iberian counterparts. He was tall with sandy hair and brown eyes framed in dark circles. Although polite, there was something melancholy about him. It made sense, after learning he was a Listener as well. I felt a little sorry for him when I saw how Mr. Dubois barked orders to him in French before getting into separate taxis.

The agents split themselves into three taxis with Lockwood making a beeline for me to get away from Barnes. After sliding into the taxi, Laurent slid in as well with a sigh, leaving me between both young men.

“You do not mind, do you? Dubois is being insufferable.” He gave us an apologetic half-smile with a shrug to his shoulders. His English was quite good, even if his accent was heavy.

“Actually-” Lockwood began but I had already spoken over him.

“Of course not. I had a supervisor like that at my previous agency too, so I understand.” This small gesture of empathy gave me opposite reactions from each of them. Lockwood pursed his lips and made it a point to look out the window. Laurent, however, was grateful and visibly relaxed after my assurance.


—


The French capital had dealt with the Problem in their own way. As I had heard, the famous Tour Eiffel had been converted to a giant ghost lamp. Even during the late afternoon, you could see the green glow emanating from it. I was strongly reminded of a beacon.

Every building had been laid with iron to frame doorways and windows, but with style . To match the style of their Art Nouveau metro stations, these frames used decorous swirls making a clear statement that even with the Problem, Parisians would not sacrifice the beauty of their city. I found myself leaning over Lockwood to get a better look. “Incredible… London has nothing like this.”

“It is our way of reassurance, to show strength,” explained Laurent.

“Bit much, if you ask me,” I heard Lockwood mutter grumpily. Slowly, I purposefully allowed my hand to rest on his knee, while making a show of looking out at the city’s sights. His ensuing flush was enough to satisfy me for the earlier nonsense he had put me through. For now. I returned to a normal seated position and Lockwood fell silent, crossing his legs in thought while looking out.

Much like London, their streetlamps had also been converted to ghost lamps. It gave the city’s twilight hour a spectacular mix of colours. I was also surprised to see adults still out and about the streets. Parisian ladies wore lavender in their hair and made it effortlessly chic. Not that I cared about such things, but I had to admit they made it look trendy. The men in suits wore the flowers instead of pocket squares. “Don’t you have a curfew here in Paris?” I asked.

“Yes, but many do not worry about it. The people of Paris are resilient and refuse to live in fear. We are a safe distance away from the outbreak for now. Our base is not far from here. You will see it soon.” True to his word, we arrived at what looked like a large house at first glance. It had that classic Parisian architecture except it sported a large sign in elegant lettering above the gate:

Bureau de la Défense Psychique

Through it, Laurent led us into a sort of entry square. I noticed iron framing everywhere as the stragging taxis arrived. Lockwood had taken it upon himself to carry my suitcase for me. I decided to smile so he’d know this chivalrous gesture was appreciated. Kipps had done the same for Gabriela, which caused Holly to snicker. I caught her eye and grinned.

Unlike investigation agencies in London, the Parisian equivalents weren’t independent and instead centralised under the Bureau. This was so that the government could cover costs and provide all necessary gear. It was a public service rather than privately owned for profit. The concept was interesting to me as it was so different from what I was used to.

“It sounds good, n’est pas? But there is a downside to this system. Agents are tested from a young age and if found to be strongly talented, they are drafted to the Bureau.” That explained why Laurent wasn’t very enthusiastic, he had been pushed into this as I had. I felt a pang of solidarity towards him as he spoke. “Of course parents have to consent, but they normally do. It is seen as our duty.”

Only George was not surprised by any of this, but he had had his nose stuck in research since we had signed DEPRAC’s paperwork agreeing to assist the task force with two missions. The first being to locate the spirit gate in Paris and the second in Madrid.

Despite the looming danger, it was hard not to be excited at the prospect of visiting new places. I was in Paris! Sure, it was currently dangerous, so maybe there would be no sightseeing until after the job was done. Still, I was beaming up at the building that would be our home away from home during our time here. It was beautiful without losing practicality. Even George had complimented it, and he normally didn’t care for such things.

Our enthusiasm died when we were shown to our rooms upstairs. It was dormitory style with two beds per room, not unlike university housing. This must be where the Bureau’s agents slept but we all noticed how many rooms had been cleaned out.

Laurent’s expression was unreadable when asked where all the agents were. “Most would have already left to ready the iron chains in the frontlines of the 11th Arrondissement. The rest you will not meet.”

I have no idea what compelled me to speak then but we all knew the reason why and our host’s knitted brows confirmed it. “Ghost-touched?” He nodded. We unpacked in silence.


—


In the end, Holly and I shared a room like our previous work trip. Although Kipps had made it a point to room with Lockwood this time (with only mild protests as a case to avoid ‘naked yoga’ was made), leaving George the remaining room to himself. The more I looked around, the more I realised this must be one of many branches of the Bureau. It functioned similarly to 35 Portland Row with being half a home for agents and half an agency base. There were offices, research spaces, a library, rapier training hall, and of course the dormitory portion with gym style bathrooms complete with lockers. Jacobs would have salivated over the quality of the facility. Yet it wasn’t overly showy like Fittes, it was more understated.

We ended up barely having time to settle in before being called to go through our inventory that was brought in separately along with Barnes and his DEPRAC colleagues. Miraculously, I had managed to talk Barnes into letting me bring the Skull along with me. I suspect he worried I wouldn’t agree to this without it.

Not that it would do me any good. I had caught flashes of green here and there, but never anything tangible enough to actually speak to. While the others organised the luggage with help from the Bureau’s lingering officers (the rest had gone to the containment area), I stuffed the Skull around a cloth from the trunk with the intent of sneaking it upstairs before any of the Bureau saw me.

Laurent had decided to exit his room by the stairs (apparently a location of privilege), just as I was climbing up. I stumbled, only for the cloth to slip down. The taller agent steadied me instinctively with a flash of concern in his features. At this proximity, I saw how angular his jaw  and cheekbones were, as if he hadn't had a decent meal in a while. “Lucy, I am sorry! I did not see you.”

“Ah it's fine, just bad timing on both our parts,” I assured him with a small smile that he returned before retracting his steadying touch.

That would have been that, but his hand brushed an exposed part of the Skull. I watched helplessly as the Touch activated a psychic connection between him and the Skull. His eyes glazed over and widened with his jaw dropping.

“Laurent? Laurent!” I shook his arm in a sudden panic. What was he seeing? Could he see the skull’s time with me? After what felt like ages, I heard someone rounding the corner and acted on pure self-preservation. The other Listener was pushed back into his room and I shut the door before anyone could see us. I had to find out what he saw and swear him to secrecy before anything else!

I hastily covered the Skull and set it down to attempt to snap Laurent out of whatever touch-induced sounds he was hearing. 

His eyes blinked rapidly as he focused on me, “... you,” he began, breathless and confused.

“Me?” I urged him on anxiously. “Say something! What did you see?”

Before I knew it, he had grabbed my shoulders. “You are like me!”

“What do you mean?” I was careful in my tone, after all he hadn’t actually explained anything yet. But he suddenly became excited.

“You can talk to Type Threes!” His accent had thickened in his excitement.

“W-what?” I blurted, eyes widening. How was that possible? I had been the first Listener since Marissa Fittes to talk with a Type Three. Right? Now, I doubted everything we had been told. There had been no word that France had produced such talent on the news, I was certain. George would have had a field day. This changed everything! What if there were others like me keeping this ability a secret? “You can as well?”

Laurent nodded with a sudden grin, it was the first genuine expression I had seen on him.

“Am I interrupting something?” A familiar voice asked from the door. Lockwood had unceremoniously opened the door with a slight breathlessness. His face was so contorted with emotion that I couldn’t quite tell what he was feeling.

Oh God, had he watched me shove Laurent into his room? I could feel colour drain from my face, this would be a nightmare to explain.


—-

Chapter Text

Skull-

How did I know Lucy Carlyle had the talent to communicate to type threes? Well I didn’t. Not exactly . It was a guess, but no one will ever hear me admit that to anyone. She had a presence felt even on the Other Side, that’s how I knew her sensitivity was strong. Strange that such talent fell on the shoulders of a girl with a crush on her ‘associate’. They both still owe me for getting my source damaged. Now I can only observe them from this place in between. I was pulled into a sort of purgatory before the Other Side. It was neither here nor there.

Anyway, not important. There was another one who could sense me, maybe even hear me. This Frenchie boy Laurent Barre. I felt his power when he touched my source. Curious. He seems mildly competent but then again I thought the same about Lucy and look where that led me.

It pulled me over to the place in between where I was neither there nor here. Just about able to observe. Ah, well this is interesting. Lucy and Laurent were just discovering they both had the same gift when Lockwood interrupted. Hah! Still alive Locky ol’ boy? Look at you beating the odds! What is that look on his face? Jealousy? Came in at just the right time, I see. He clearly wants to punch this Frenchie boy. Well what are you waiting for? Knock him good! Lucy will love that!

Of course these two were so boring as usual, there was no punching or yelling or stabbing. Damn it. Well, still more entertaining than nothing.

“Lockwood… this isn’t… we didn’t…” Lucy scrambled to explain the situation in a way that Lockwood wouldn’t read too much into it. Never any fun that one, she should be using Frenchie over here to finally make an honest man out of that Lockwood.

“Does he know?” Laurent asked Lucy carefully, excitement still evident in his features which I noticed made Lockwood bristle. Very droll. There it is! The boy going through the five stages of grief, rationalising what was happening and why . Hah! That’s what you get for damning me to this purgatory of purgatories.

“Do I know what ?” Lockwood asked tersely. Bet he hates not knowing what’s going on. Excellent. Don’t tell him anything Lucy! Let the boy suffer!

“Yes, he knows everything,” Lucy affirmed to Laurent, who immediately jumped into action. He pulled the lovesick fool into his room and shut the door behind him. Now I could have a better look around the room, it was minimal. Few personal belongings save for newspaper articles he stuck to his wall, a stack of books in French and an engraved rapier on a stand. The window inside his room showed the training courtyard in the back.

“ Alors , it seems there is much to discuss. But you must not let Dubois know anything, I do not trust what he might do.” Laurent sat down on his bed as Lucy took a seat at his desk. Lockwood crossed his arms and chose to remain standing. Yeah assert dominance, that will show him! Or do sod all, you absolute moron.

“One of you better tell me what is going on.” He gave Lucy a pointed stare that she looked away from. Why are you being a coward, Lucy? Are you the agent that took down Marissa Fittes or not!? Oh wait yeah, that was me.

“Well, you know how I can talk to Skull?” she asked and gave my source a glance. I could hear the longing in her voice. Clearly she missed my wisdom and witty quips. I don’t blame her, I’m brilliant.

Lockwood glanced at Laurent and back to her in suspicion. “What about it?”

“He can too.”

“What?”

“Right, so there are two of us.” Obviously, can’t he feel their presence? The living are so limited.

“What?” Lockwood repeated.

“We can both talk to type three Visitors,” Lucy continued, unsure where she lost him. He’s probably too busy imagining her lips or something equally asinine.

“I understood that Luce. I’m not thick. I mean, how do you know?” Not thick, eh? Sure about that, are you?

They then explained to him what happened and Laurent became excited again. Yes, there was something about him. He was strong like Lucy. Together, they could be stronger still and I might find a way back. Would they figure that out themselves? Well nothing for it, these bumbling idiots need me again. Typical.


—


Lockwood -

This was certainly not an ideal situation. If only I could tell her how it felt to watch her flee into another room when he approached. Understanding why and changing how it felt were two different issues altogether. Lucy had just met someone with the same talent and he happened to be tall, handsome, and bloody French. Not too late to throw him into the Seine.

“We have to tell George,” I announced, cutting through their animated chatter. “I’ll agree not to tell the supervisors or even Barnes. Not yet.”

“Does anyone else know, Laurent?” Lucy asked him, tearing her glance away from me. I swallowed back a sinking feeling.

“Gabriela and Joao know, as well as my team.”

“There must be a reason why you can both do it. We have to get to the bottom of this but that will have to wait. We have dinner waiting for us downstairs and then we have to gear up to go. Dubois and Barnes say that the perimeter is barely holding. They need us there as soon as possible.” I reached up to rub the bridge of my nose before exhaling and opening the door to leave. Part of me expected Lucy to stay behind with Laurent but she followed after me, her hand reaching for mine.

The warmth of her fingers made me feel guilty for having doubted her even for a moment. “Lockwood, wait!” We paused in the middle of the stairs but she didn’t let go of my hand. I gave it a squeeze without thinking. “Can we talk?”

She was anxious, I could see it etched in her soft features. I hesitated, knowing Barnes would skin me alive if we were late. But how could I put Lucy off when she was looking at me so earnestly? “Alright.”

We wandered for a moment, avoiding everyone until we found an empty room that looked like an archival cabinet of cases. It was almost cosier than should have been allowed. Lucy was undoubtedly aware of our sudden forced proximity as her cheeks heated and struggled to find her voice. Personally, I suddenly found a cabinet label very interesting. “So…” I began, hoping to encourage her to say something.

“I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about Laurent. Not like I did about Holly.” Cutting right to the core, huh?

“You know Holly is a-” I was definitely not Holly’s type.

“I know! I know… I just wanted to say that.” Her hands were balling into fists and I had to admit I found it endearing.

“Luce, I trust you.”

The relief in her face helped her release the tension in her shoulders. I flashed her a grin and reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, allowing my hand to linger on her cheek. With a forward step, I could hear her breath quickening.

Light flooded the dimly lit archive closet when Barnes swung the door open. I quickly retracted my hand from Lucy’s face and we both created as much distance away from each other as humanly possible. The geezer stared at us in a deadpan expression. “We leave in ten. Go get your dinner.”

Lucy fled first, mumbling something about the food smelling good. It did in fact smell appetising. The Bureau cook was making savoury crepes with a side salad, I had peaked earlier when I caught George sniffing the air.

Her betrayal left me alone with Barnes who stared at me as if I was about to be charged with homicide. “Settling in well, Inspector?” I asked, polite as always, and flashed a megawatt smile I reserved especially for him.

“There will be no canoodling under my watch, Lockwood. I better not see you sneaking off with Miss Carlyle while on the case. We have more important things to worry about.”

Christ, he sounded like he was my father and my boss. Though I suppose the latter is technically true, albeit temporarily. “Canoodling, Inspector? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“See that you don’t.”

Annoying, that. It made me want to canoodle all the more.


—


After that, Barnes made it a point to separate me and Lucy. During dinner, he sat next to me. While gearing up, he told Holly to help Lucy fasten her spirit cloak on when I tried to make it an intimate little moment. Rude. Even during the car ride to the 11th arrondissement outbreak, he rode with me. The message was clear; I had to be discreet.

We pulled up a couple of blocks away from Place de la Bastille. It was the centre of it all, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Death glows so bright they made me squint. These were recent and looked young. Agents.

I got out to get a better look and noticed local police and Bureau officers checking the iron chains surrounding the perimeter. Inside it were the death glows. The others in our group got out of their respective cars and congregated around me. I vaguely heard Gabriela curse in Spanish at the sight of it all. “Lockwood, puedes verlo? Can you see them? You have sight, yes?” she asked me and slid on a pair of sunglasses. I nodded while taking in the scene. After squinting entirely too long, I also reached for my sunglasses. It was like staring into a battlefield right after the combat had ended. This did not bode well.

Ghostly entities moved on the other side of the iron perimeter. They stalked the border as if looking for a way through. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It had been a mild spring day back at the Bureau but here it felt like winter. “How are they doing that?” I heard myself ask no one in particular.

Laurent came next to me, a backpack bulging suspiciously on his shoulders. Had he brought Skull along? “I have a theory, but we cannot speak of it here.” He side-eyed Dubois and I gave him a nod.

The rest of Lockwood and Co. were busy putting on silverthread cloaks, gloves, rapiers, and in Holly and Quill’s case; goggles. Gabriela, Laurent, and João followed suit. There were also newly developed weapons we could use aside from the usual chains, flares and greek fire. The Spanish agent looked like a mediaeval knight with her unusually long rapier at her hip that nearly dragged on the ground and a large round plate that could only be described as a shield. Her boots had a silver plating on her toes and on the knuckles of her gloves. Interesting. She caught me staring and winked. Everyone was unnerved by the outbreak… more like an invasion from the Other Side. Not Gabriela, however, who was grinning wildly and stretched her limbs. You would think she was getting ready to run a marathon.

João also had unusual equipment in the form of what looked like a pair of pistols. “They have salt spray shots,” he explained to George who looked like he wanted a pair as well.

“Can I test them?” George asked, but Joao produced a third salt spray gun and handed it over.

“Take this one, I have more ammo if you need it.”

The pair seemed to be getting on. I glanced over to Kipps and Holly who were lingering in our vanguard. “Are you two ok to do this?”

“Worrying about me, are you Tony?” Kipps smirked. “How sweet.”

“Shut it, just stay close.” I raised my voice to everyone in our 8 person task force. “We all stay together as a group, understand?” They all nodded and gathered around. Barnes approached wearing a cape, goggles, and holding iron chains in his hand. Notably, Dubois still wore his suit and had not made any move to gear up with them.

“Alright listen up!” The Inspector took authority away from me with a single phrase, everyone looked over to him. “Tonight is just about gathering information and providing support. See what you see, but don’t be a hero. I’m talking to you, Lockwood, and to you, Miss Diaz.”

Gabriela rolled her eyes and popped in a stick of chewing gum, which she then began to offer round.

Barnes continued, “Your orders are to assist and observe. There is a large Bureau team inside that has called for backup, we will bring them silverthread cloaks and other gear we brought with us. We stay together, we sweep the area inside the containment perimeter for the Bureau agents, and then we extract them. Got it? Do not attract the attention of any Visitors. You will all get your chance to locate the gate, but not tonight.”

Everyone nodded and I noticed Lucy speaking in low tones with Laurent. After my chat with Lucy earlier, I decided to bury that pang of persistent jealousy and ignore it altogether. I trusted her. Besides, tonight was not the night to let those kinds of feelings in.


—


George -

Something was happening between Lockwood and Lucy. I wasn’t sure what yet, but somehow it was surely Lockwood’s fault. Even Barnes was providing a buffer between them. Well, I can deal with them later as long as they don’t muck this up for us. I knew precisely where we were of course. João was looking at a map next to me mumbling to himself in Portuguese. "Não faz sentido…”

“Find anything?” What can I say? I was curious.

“Look here, we are just near Place de la Bastille right? The Bastille Prison was torn down at the beginning of the French revolution and it stood here. But there wasn’t a particularly bloody massacre, no more than other places in the city. So why here?” João seemed to be voicing his theories more so than anything. Finally someone competent.

“I was thinking the same, doesn’t make sense unless there is a gap here in defences where the Visitors are coming from.”

“Are you thinking what I am thinking?”

“The catacombs.” We said in unison and exchanged grins. Ah, it was so refreshing to have another researcher around.

“There must be thousands of sources down there, and if a portion of it wasn’t made safe and stretches out here…” I began.

“... then that must be why there are so many of them! But what awoke them? The gate?” João wondered aloud.

“Let’s see what we can find out. Hoods up.” These cloaks were growing on me. It kept the chill off and allowed me to focus on research rather than keeping Lucy and Lockwood alive.

We then organised ourselves into pairs with Lockwood and Gabriela holding up her shield at the front. I couldn’t shake the image that she was his bodyguard. Next there was Lucy and Laurent in front of me and João. Kipps and Holly were just behind us with their goggles firmly fastened on, and Barnes protecting our backs at the end with what looked like a large water gun. João and I exchanged looks after we both noticed it and shrugged. Curiosity could wait until after we survived the night.

Stepping over the iron chain defences was like diving into an ice bucket. I made sure to adjust my gloves and make sure my cloak would stay on. For the most part we remained quiet, making our way to the main square, but I knew we all felt the malaise. This was the closest I felt to being on the Other Side on, well, this side. Just how many Visitors were there? A gate was undoubtedly nearby.

Barely a block into our journey inwards we heard screams coming from three different directions. Right, left, and straight ahead where we could see the main square. I heard Barnes curse behind me. “Do not split up,” he told us. “We move together on the right then double back. Go!”

Lockwood clearly did not agree with this plan and began veering off in the opposite direction. “Every second counts, Inspector! We should split up into two teams; Lucy, George, and Holly, you’re with me. Kipps, stay with the others. We meet back up in the main square!”

“LOCKWOOD, GET BACK HERE!” Barnes shouted angrily before João gently reminded him to keep his emotions in check around Visitors. Sure enough, several of them began closing in. Mostly weaker type ones so I knew the others could handle it.

As for me? Well, someone had to keep my idiot boss alive, and as usual it fell to me. Though Lucy and I did exchange exasperated glances as we sprinted after Lockwood. Holly kept pace but muttered something about angering Barnes… again.

We didn’t have time to look back, however, as we came upon a 4 person group in Bureau coats chucking everything they had at a Spectre and a Wraith from inside an iron circle. One of them was ghost-locked. In other words, they were trapped and surrounded. I noticed they were running low on supplies and had to resort to their rapiers. Lockwood threw a can of greek fire onto the Wraith to release the Bureau agent from ghostlock and it turned towards us.

Shit.

At least the Bureau agents could now focus their efforts on fighting back the Spectre. I decided it was a good time to test out João’s salt spray gun and aimed it at the Wraith. The Visitor fizzled and let out a screech that caused Lucy to drop a flare she was about to throw in order to cover her ears. Holly stood in front of her and kept the Wraith at bay with her rapier long enough for Lockwood to slash at it and push the Visitor back far enough away from everyone. Lucy recovered long enough to finally chuck that flare. A direct hit!

We had a moment to breathe. The Bureau team seemed to have fought back their Spectre for the time being as well. Lockwood said something to them in French and they picked up their chains to join us.

“Since when do you speak French?” Lucy asked him, sounding both surprised and mildly impressed. Oh Lucy, just snog him already. Bloody hell.

“Since I learned it in school,” he replied with a grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Can you two focus!? We need to get out of here before they get back. I’d bet all my euros that their sources aren’t above ground, so move!”

“Right, Barnes will be wanting to kill us in a timely manner,” quipped Holly with a small smile and broke off a piece of chocolate before handing me a piece. She used broken French to offer it to the Bureau agents who smiled gratefully at her.

The eight of now circled back towards the main square. More screams and shouting. Got to love a cluster case. Though, was this really a cluster case? With this many Visitors, one could argue it was an invasion. Just what the hell was happening on the Other Side here?

We rushed over to Place de la Bastille, finally, only to witness one of the most impressive fencing moves I had ever seen. In the middle, surrounded by a cluster of type one and type twos; another Bureau team stood inside a circle defending their position. The chains barely kept the Visitors at bay. However, the rest of our task force had arrived just as we did and sprung into action. Kipps and Barnes were pushing Visitors away from the trapped group in order to create an opening for them. João was doing the same with his salt spray shots while Laurent had rushed into the iron circle to help what must have been his teammates. 

Gabriela, however?

I don’t know where to begin. It was like a scene out of a comic book. That shield she had been holding must have been made out of a salt coated iron alloy because when she flung it into the cluster closing in on the Bureau, many of them dematerialised. Then she sprinted off with her rapier in hand, slashing away expertly at type ones as if they were nothing more than mosquitoes needing casual swatting. Her target was a Raw-Bones that was coming in from the road near the monument. The Spanish agent somersaulted over a bench and landed a silver tipped kick onto the Visitor before bringing her rapier down to dematerialise it. Once finished, Gabriela tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and lowered her sunglasses to wink over to our group. She ballooned her bubble gum only to pop it with a toothy grin.

As impressed as I was, I caught Kipps staring with his jaw dropped. Even more amusing was Lockwood’s expression next to me, it looked like a cross between admiration and envy.

“She is so much cooler than you,” I remarked.

“Shut up, George,” Lockwood retorted. “She’s just showing off.”

“That, or she’s the better agent.”

“She is so…” Holly muttered with a blush before clearing her throat. “Right, what are we waiting for? We have agents to rescue!”


—


Lucy-

So many voices. I couldn’t distinguish who from what. Unlike Lockwood, I had never taken any French classes so the noise was just that, noise. But I knew both Laurent and I felt that intense malaise from being near a spirit gate. It was like feeling it while being underwater. It was so close and yet it wasn’t. We had had some time to talk about what it felt like being near a gate on the flight over. He had been determined to learn from me before returning here and I could see why.

Standing here near the Bastille monument was making me ill, very ill. My reactions were not up to par and I could see the same in Laurent. I stayed close to him as he went to start leading his team out of the square. They spoke in rapid French but I could tell he was trying to get them back to safety.

That is when I heard a voice speaking to me, and even though I couldn’t understand it, Laurent did, and he gave me a fearful glance as the others led the rest of the Bureau agents out. Now all together, we felt safer in our numbers. Barnes handed out silverthread cloaks to as many agents as he could while leading them back out of the perimeter.

Laurent gently pushed me ahead of him so he could watch behind us, and a second but more familiar voice spoke to me. ’You’re not going to let that prick talk to you like that, are you?’ Skull! His voice was coming from Laurent’s backpack and he shot me a sheepish shrug. We lingered behind for a moment.

“Skull, you’re back?” But his voice had stopped. I couldn’t figure it out. Before we could speak further, Barnes began to shout at us to keep up the pace. Somewhere nearby him stood Lockwood looking at me with a frown. I’d have to explain all of this later.

For now, we focused on getting out of this infested neighbourhood. The Visitors weren’t pleased to see us go. We all had to fight tooth and nail just to get back to safety. The Parisian night was lit up with flares and Greek fire. The sound of salt bombs and salt spray shots drowned out any of the voices that tried to speak to me.

It was overwhelming and I began to feel bile rising in my throat. Laurent noticed and steadied me with a concerned frown, his rapier out in his free hand to keep a shade at bay. “I feel it too,” he assured me.

“I think I’m going to throw up…” Colour drained from my face and I got dizzy as the voices intensified.

It was only when Skull spoke again that I was able to focus on a single voice. ‘You look awful, I mean more than usual. Now don’t let each other go! I can only sneak through if you’re touching. But don’t get any ideas Frenchie, this lady is spoken for. Not that it's serious, I’d bet my source they haven’t even kissed yet…’

“Skull… am I glad to hear your voice!” I exclaimed, confident that the others were too busy cutting a path through to notice what Laurent and I were doing.

My relief at hearing Skull again seemed to have made him bashful. ‘Yes, well, you should be glad! Now get out of here, something else is coming that feels far too much like Ezekiel and I can’t help you right now.’

“Lockwood! We have to hurry!” I shouted across the large group.

“She’s right, we have to go NOW!” Laurent reiterated, still keeping me steady but we were soon having to keep each other steady.

In response, Lockwood ran back to take over for Laurent, only for the French Listener to falter as well. With a sigh, Lockwood supported the both of us and hurried us along. “Not sure how I feel having two of you now.” I heard him mutter but when I looked up, he flashed me one of his comforting megawatt smiles.

Up ahead, the others had already made it to safety when a booming voice no one else but Laurent could hear cracked through. A dark storm was moving closer and closer behind us.

“MOVE MOVE MOVE!” I heard George yelling before Kipps leaped back over to pick up Laurent bridal style and rush back over. It was a sight to see and the French agent looked up at him with widened eyes. It would be amusing if a malicious type three hadn’t been on our heels.

Fear began to grip me and I could see Lockwood’s face covered in cold sweat. That thing was affecting him as well.

Not a moment too soon we made it over the threshold and the dark cloud diminished. But we could still see Visitors staring at us before turning back around. I leaned on Lockwood and shoved  a stick of gum in my mouth to stop my teeth from chattering.

Bureau medics began attending to the extracted agents while the others on our task force stared back at me and Laurent. Barnes looked positively furious as he glanced over to Lockwood, who ignored him to check on me. “Luce, what was that? Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “This is so much worse than we thought.” I chewed the gum for a moment to steady myself but I knew he felt how hard my grip was on his arm. “There’s a type three in there, Lockwood. An evil one.” My voice had lowered to a whisper so that only he and Laurent could hear.

“Shit,” was all he could say.

“He is angry at us,” Laurent told us in a hushed tone. “He wants us to release him.”


—


The rest of the night involved us entering the perimeter to extract remaining Bureau teams from different entry points. Knowing a type three was inside meant we had to come and go quickly, making full use of the barriers. For the most part we managed to extract the agents. But the mission wasn’t a complete success. The last team hadn’t made it long enough for the rescue. Laurent was furious.

We couldn’t even get the bodies out until daybreak, but by then the Bureau officers would take care of it. However, we all witnessed Laurent having a go at Dubois. I understood enough from his tone to know he blamed Dubois for allowing agents to continue going inside when the task force was being assembled.

Exhaustion gripped us all when we finally returned to base sometime before dawn. Lockwood and Co assembled in the kitchen to put the kettle on. Gabriela and João joined us and fell into chairs around the long dining table we reckoned had been placed there for team meals.

“Meu Deus…” muttered João, “I have never seen anything like that.”

“It is bad also in Madrid,” Gabriela remarked, grabbing an apple from a fruit basket to sink her teeth into.

George and Holly made the tea while Kipps mirrored Gabriela by grabbing an apple himself. Lockwood rubbed the bridge of his nose before glancing at me. “We have to tell them, Luce.”

“I know.” I bit into a chocolate coated biscuit. Had to hand it to the French, they had nice biscuits.

“Tell us what?” George turned around, as if already sensing a big reveal.

Just then Laurent made an appearance, looking haggard and pale. He grabbed a stale croissant and shoved it in his mouth. We all shot him a sympathetic look. The eight of us were feeling more like a team after the ordeal we just went through. It had only been a day. Hard to believe.

“Excellent, we’re all here. Time to be honest with each other if we want this mission to be a success,” Lockwood began and proceeded to catch up everyone on what we had learned. Gabriela and João weren’t surprised to hear about Laurent’s talent, but did raise eyebrows when learning of mine. We didn’t reveal anything about Skull just yet, but we explained that we heard a type three inside the Bastille perimeter. Holly bit down onto a carrot as if she was stress eating as she listened. Kipps laughed, “Of course there is!”

“Why can’t it ever be easy?” Holly sighed as George tiredly stirred his tea. A glint was in his eye behind his glasses, however, I could tell we had just given him a new mystery to solve and it was thrilling him.

“Well, we are not going back in there without a plan,” João said as he exchanged a glance with George.

“Not bloody likely, no. Luckily for all of you, I am here and know where the outbreak is coming from. Figured it all out within a day too. Must be a new record.” Our researcher looked particularly smug. “My friends, we’re going into the catacombs.”

“Merde,” breathed Laurent.


----------

Chapter Text

George-

It was all easier said than done. Having never been inside the Parisian catacombs myself, I didn’t understand the scope of how far they actually stretched beneath the city. Nor did I take into account that mapping it out completely would take weeks. We all very quickly understood Laurent’s reaction when he showed us an old tourist map (pre-Problem) on the catacombs, that much of it had been sealed off over time.

Not to mention that just because we knew where the gate likely was, we had no idea what the source could be. In a place with thousands of sources, how do you pinpoint a single one belonging to an instigating Type Three Visitor? To make matters worse, the Commission adults thought we were mad to suggest going into the catacombs. We were being pressured to sweep the area around Place de la Bastille first, which was counterproductive. Especially when you took into consideration that several Bureau teams had already done that and came up empty handed. Lockwood had gone over their reports with me to help with my rudimentary French.

Why couldn’t things be simple for once ?

I for one had not signed up to juggle the politics behind this investigation. This was the sort of nonsense that had held back agencies like Fittes in the past. The only adult vouching for us was Barnes, who was now very well respected after being part of the Problem’s direct decline back home.

Even so, he was hesitant to allow us into the catacombs. So two weeks passed by before we were given the greenlight to go in… yes, weeks, plural .  We scoured every nook and cranny of the 11th arrondissement with Commission supervision within the outbreak perimeter before they finally gave up on their idiotic plan. It was a gruelling process as we couldn’t stick around for long before that Type Three showed up to rile the nearby Visitors, forcing us to evacuate quickly during every entry.

The only positive outcome out of this completely dangerous delay was that we were getting used to working with our new teammates. We also had Bureau backup, who were  more effective now that they were outfitted with silverthread cloaks and better protective gear. So at least there were no casualties since the first night. That being said, Lucy and Laurent could barely cope with being in there. Too long inside and they would throw up from the malaise-caused nausea.

But on nights they stayed behind, we noticed that we had more time to explore and sweep the streets inside the perimeter.

The biggest negative was observing the outer perimeter weakening more and more, forcing the Bureau to strengthen it every other day, and we all shared the same sinking feeling that it wouldn’t hold forever. At some point, the Visitors would burst out and east Paris would have to be evacuated. During our team meetings we learned that the French contingency plan was to rendezvous by the Tour Eiffel. The landmark turned ghost lamp was considered one of the safest places in the city and had not seen a haunting since it had been converted. Dubois explained that the Bureau had outfitted the city with emergency sirens that were originally designed to be used if there was a dangerous Visitor nearby but they could be rigged to warn the entire city. 

It did not bode well that there was already talk of evacuation and emergency drills.

Anyway, back to the catacombs; we needed a few days to plan and I finally had time to research something more interesting. Lucy and Laurent’s abilities.

The former was easy enough to convince to help as we were mates and all. The latter, well, he was hesitant. Not that I blamed him. So after we got clearance to enter the catacombs, I asked them to come to my room. João came along to keep Laurent company and readily admitted he was curious as well.


—


The room was maybe slightly messy. I had used the second twin bed in the dorm style room to hold newspaper clippings, books and maps. A fact that Lucy sighed over while making enough room for herself to sit down. Laurent had already claimed my desk chair. João sat next to me while browsing through one of my books. Since we had become a team, he had taken to visiting my room and just hanging out. We both appreciated a quiet reading moment.

With a notebook in hand, I settled onto my own bed and sat frog-legged in an almost yoga-like position. It helped with cramping, I found.

“Right so, how can we help, George?” Lucy asked curiously, setting aside a map of Paris.

“You both have the same ability and I think it's important to know why. What do you both have in common? Have you spoken about it?” I asked, glancing between them.

They had naturally become fast friends, a fact that I noticed caused Lockwood to spend more time in the training hall. Lately he was always seen with Gabriela and Kipps, training, or talking to Barnes or other Commission members.

“A little.” Laurent shrugged, leaning his arms on the back of the desk chair. “Correct me if I forget anything, Lucy, but I recall we are both from small villages. I am from the south of France and came here to work for the Bureau. Similar for Lucy, non?”

My friend and colleague nodded, “Yes I remember. We also had similar experiences with our Listening. Creating a psychic connection first, for example. But I can’t think of much else.”

I wrote that down to analyse later. There had to be a pattern.

This went back and forth for some time before they started getting peckish. I quite fancied a cuppa myself. “Well, we can stop after this last question, but it doesn't seem like you two have common interests or particularly special birth dates. I’ll have to cross reference with celestial conditions then.”

“Celestial conditions, Georgie? You can’t be serious.” Lucy scoffed sceptically.

“True, it is a stretch, but I’m just looking for patterns,” I agreed and moved on, especially after the snort João shot me. “So tell me about your families. Luce, you have six sisters right?”

“Yeah, all older. I’m the youngest.” She confirmed.

Laurent raised a brow at that, “Really? I am also the youngest of seven, all brothers.”

The pair sort of smiled over this coincidence but that seemed like too much of one to not matter. “Wait, you’re both the seventh child of your families? What about your parents?”

“Yes, my father was also the youngest of seven brothers.” Laurent shrugged, “It is common in small villages to have larger families is it not?”

“Not that much larger.” João pointed out.

“That’s funny, my mum is also the youngest of seven daughters.” Lucy remarked, not quite grasping how important this discovery was.

As they gushed over how funny this coincidence was, I rummaged through the stack of books I had DEPRAC send over, finally finding the biography on Marissa Fittes. It was mostly lies but I remembered something about her being from a large family as well. Vaguely, I felt Lucy and Laurent staring at me as they paused their exchange. I ignored it until I found what I was looking for.

“HAH!” I yelled triumphantly and showed them the pageI had found. “Read this.”

João took it to read out loud whilst Laurent leaned over curiously to see what I was on about. “Marissa grew up in a large household, her talents largely ignored due to her having six older sisters. Something common in that time, especially in rural areas. Coincidentally, her own mother had also been the youngest of seven siblings… George, that can’t be a coincidence.”

“I would bet my glasses that her mother was the seventh daughter of an unbroken line of all daughters. Just like you two. Did you know Irish folklore has a belief that the seventh son of a seventh son has special powers. It is given to the seventh son born from an unbroken family line with no female siblings born between. Or vice-versa as evidence shows us.”

Laurent’s eyes widened. “If that is true then there must be others like us.”

“Still very rare of course, especially nowadays when families have fewer children than before,” I pointed out, “But yes, there are others.”

“George, you cannot tell anyone about this,” Lucy pleaded. “We can’t expose anyone who wants no part of this. Besides, this isn’t a guarantee, is it?”

I reassured her quickly, “Don’t worry Lucy, you know I’m on your side no matter what. Also I can’t tell you if it's a guarantee because your situations are so rare. But so far, this is the only pattern that fits all three of you.”

“I agree, but it does raise more questions. For example, how we get our talents. Marissa Fittes was a legendary case but maybe not as unique as we have been led to believe. It makes me wonder how many like you are hidden or never fully aware of their abilities. Is it not the case that Type Threes are very rare?” João offered and I found myself nodding in agreement.

“Yet this is the third Type Three our team has seen. That’s not nothing.” Lucy added.

Even if I could somehow prove this, I wouldn’t ever go public with this information. Lucy was right, we couldn’t expose anyone else. Still, how clever am I for having found a link? Lockwood needs to give me a raise.

—


Skull -

Frenchie frog boy here had taken it upon himself to carry me around everywhere. Bit odd, but then again the lad is foreign. Have to admit it was kind of nice to be treated with the reverence I so deserve. It was like having my own palanquin or stable boy. The only downside was I could only share my witty remarks when he and Lucy made physical contact.

That demon Cubbins had a theory on why that was. Something about radios, or was that the example? Who cares? The point is they could amplify their ‘psychic signal’ or something that allowed me to ‘tune’ in or whatever that meant. It was boy George who came up with it so how reliable could that theory really be? He was no Bickerstaff.

Still no news on when my source could be restored or fixed or anything that would help me cross over to one of the planes of existence! Useless children. I was never a child, even when I was a child. Like my master, I was ahead of my time… if underappreciated, but genius always is. 

The few times I was left to my own devices, I was treated to some rather amusing developments among my youthful cohorts. Lockwood appeared to be making attempts to court Lucy yet his efforts were consistently deterred by this Barnes fellow. Nice chap, Barnes. Humourless old goat, don’t get me wrong. But he was blocking Lockwood’s lascivious intent and so made the geezer high in my esteem.

One early morning before daybreak, I had been left atop Laurent’s desk while he wandered out, not to shower obviously. The French seem to lack a distinct sense of hygiene. I imagine he was chewing on raw garlic or something. Who knows? Anyway, the lad’s desk overlooked a window into the training courtyard. Down below I could see Lockwood relieving his stress by waving around a pointy stick. Probably a euphemism for something. Lucy joined him and next thing I know he has her pinned against a stone wall. Now I know what others might think here; poor Lucy. But she is as bad as him! He was leaning down ever so slowly for a liplock (heh Lockwood, liplock…Locklips?) while I groaned with cringe and there she was leaning up too!

Ah, but lo and behold! Inspector Barnes came to save the day! He briskly walked into the courtyard and the hormonal pair practically jumped apart. Hilarious.

As amusing as that was, it was still less interesting than the presence I felt inside that enclosed area they kept dragging me back to. Sometimes I could just about see who the other Type Three was. Other times, I only heard him. Blood show-off, that one. If I had a more robust source, I’d show him a thing or two!

Besides you know, he's French . This lot had to figure something out or they’d be sitting ducks. Not that I would mind, might be nice to have company on the Other Side again. Almost had that Quill cross over one time and it would have been a riot and a half to haunt Lockwood together.

Anyway, at some point Lucy and Laurent held hands over my skull to seek out my endless wisdom.

‘ You rang?’ I asked, watching them strengthen my ability to materialise in this plane with physical touch. It made me wonder what else they could do together.

“We wanted to ask you if you had seen who the other Type Three was. Did you sense anything last night when we went in again?” Laurent began and I noticed how he held Lucy’s hand; casually and without that same pining need as Lockwood did. Interesting.

‘ Not particularly, no. I’ve seen the man however. Some geezer with a bushy moustache and a suit from my time. Would recognise that suit cut anywhere. Bickerstaff liked it, see.’ In fact, Bickerstaff and this other Type Three had a lot in common. I mean, aside from their impeccable sense of fashion of course.

“If we showed you an image of him, could you recognise him?” Lucy wondered, giving me an earnest look. Sometimes I understood why Lockwood had it so bad. Right now was not one of those times.

‘Maybe, if you can manage it. You should be focusing on helping me cross over fully, though, I can’t help you here. After all we’ve been through, you know you can trust me right?’ She bloody well should trust me! I saved her sorry arse!

“We’re trying, I promise. It's just, we have no idea where to begin. As far as we know, something like that has never been attempted. If you know something, now is the time to say.” She was making sense, of course, but I haven’t the foggiest on how to sort my situation.

Except there was one idea I hadn’t yet considered. ‘There is one thing, but you won’t like it.’

“We might surprise you,” Laurent told me.

‘ Temporary possession. Not like with Marissa and Penelope of course! Just long enough that I can get a clear view and assess the situation. Better if I have your talent even if for a moment. We will share!’ I added quickly before she assumed I would want to steal a hormonal body for long. As if doing that all over appealed to anyone.

“You’re right, I don’t like it.” Lucy sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her free hand.

Laurent however appeared to be slightly sympathetic. “It is not ideal but if we are in trouble, it might be worth trying? You said he saved you, right?”

Finally! Someone with sense! It was surreal coming from the French but you know, couldn’t be too picky.

“I did,” Lucy affirmed and finally sighed, “All right but you do it. I don’t trust him not to sneak a peek while he’s in control of me. Better a boy does it.”

Spoilsport. Still, this was progress!


—


Lockwood -

Barnes was driving me towards violent thoughts. Every time in the past two weeks I managed to get a moment alone with Lucy, he could somehow sniff us out like a bloodhound and came to interrupt us. I hadn’t been able to get her alone to ask her out on a real date yet! One morning, all I was doing was buttering her toast for her as I normally do and he came to sit across from me while having his coffee.

“Alright, Inspector?” I asked as the very poster boy for manners.

“I know what you’re up to Lockwood,” he responded cryptically, making Lucy uncomfortable. I couldn’t even enjoy watching her get butter on her lips and imagine myself gently wiping it off in peace.

“And what would that be?” Indeed what? My intentions with Lucy Carlyle were honourable!

He glanced at the young woman in question and did not elaborate but he pointed his index and middle fingers at his eyes and then flipped his hand to just point a menacing index finger at me. Me, the great Anthony bloody Lockwood was being treated like a delinquent hellbent on violating my female colleague. The absolute disrespect .

The moment Lucy left to work on the case with George and Laurent, Barnes stopped me and asked for a word. “Are you canoodling, Lockwood?”

There was that word again. “I am doing no such thing, Inspector.” Not for lack of trying, which would be so much easier if you pissed right off.

Barnes narrowed his eyes, “Not yet you’re not, but I am watching you.” With that he finally left to do some work. He was clearly not kept busy enough.


—


Thankfully Barnes and the rest of the Commission officers and representatives did not sleep inside the Bureau branch. It had been designed for agents only with one legal adult supervisor to stay over. That person had been ghostlocked just before our arrival so the happy task had been given to Holly and Kipps. The former was thankfully only too pleased to assist my cause. The latter took his responsibility seriously but was compromised by the charming Gabriela, who spent most of her days training.

If Kipps just had a little nudge, I could take Lucy out on a moonlit stroll through Paris. So after dinner one night when we were relatively unsupervised, I noticed Gabriela practising out in the courtyard.

She was wearing sweatpants and a sports bra for a top and it highlighted her toned physique. Perfect, Quill would be powerless to resist.

“Hola Anthony, come to train?” Gabriela offered me a cheeky grin as she adjusted her high ponytail. She yanked her rapier out of a wooden dummy and pointed it at me.

Never one to turn down a challenge, I smirked and slid off my long coat. I walked over to a rapier stand and chose one with a sturdy handle. “Why not? I have some frustration to work off.”

“Ah si?” We held our rapiers to the side and bowed our heads to each other before our spar began. She was aggressive in her opening attack, forcing me to defend. “Does it have to do with your Inspector?”

“Very perceptive.” I blocked a lunge of hers and parried, forcing more distance between us.

“It is not very secret that you and Lucy are, how do you say in English?” Gabriela paused to try and find the right term but I took advantage of the opening to lunge. She was quick to defend. “Ah si si, dating. But your supervisor does not approve?”

“Barnes is being a tad overbearing,” I explained with a chuckle, having her on the defensive now. However I got the feeling she was testing my reflexes.

“Overbearing? I do not know this word. You mean, protective?”

“Something like that.” I shrugged and immediately had to dodge a swipe.

“So you come to me, for what? My help?” That appeared to amuse her.

“A distraction.” No point in beating around the bush. We paused as our blades stuck in a deadlock.

Gabriela lifted a brow. “Distraction? For Quill? It seems our goals align tonight, Anthony.”

“So they do, Gabriela.”

“Call me Gabi, all my friends do.” We ended in a tie and stepped back. She walked over to where she kept a water bottle to drink from.

I grinned at that. “I am honoured you consider me a friend.”

“Good, you should be.” My grin was met with a wink. “I will invite Quill for a nightcap in the kitchen. Have fun with Lucy but it is a shame. Laurent will be jealous.”

“As he should be. Lucy is quite special but we have too much history for her to consider him.” A part of me felt very smug to know I had won.

The Spanish agent snorted as she replaced the cap on her bottle, “You don’t know? Laurent is gay.”

What? “Sorry, what?”

“Laurent is gay,” Gabriela repeated, amusement palpable.

“Come off it! He’s been pining for Lucy since they met!” Why wouldn’t he? They had loads in common and Lucy had that Northern charm.

“Pining, yes, but for you and maybe Quill a little. Did you not see his face when Quill carried him?” She had a point.

That also meant that the sheepish looks he gave me weren’t because of Lucy, but were instead… for me? I must have looked terribly confused because as Kipps made an appearance, he chuckled.

“What’s wrong with you Tony? Did Gabi throttle you?” He sounded so proud of her. Christ, did I sound like that with Lucy? No, of course not. I have much more discretion than this prick.

“No, he did well but I went easy on him,” Gabriela informed him with a wide grin.

Normally I would have had a sharp rebuttal to that but relief was flooding me. Well well well, so Laurent fancied me did he? Can’t say I blame him. Maybe the French Listener was merely starstruck .

“What do you look so chuffed about, Tony?” Kipps raised a brow and I ignored it, instead giving my new ally a nod. Gabriela returned it and pointed her rapier to Quill held his hands up in mock surrender. “Careful there sweetheart.”

“Spar with me, Quill. I need a challenge.” Gabriela struck him with a megawatt grin to rival my own. Not sure what it was about her but I felt a sort of kinship.

As they began to get into it, I took that as my sign to go find Lucy. After grabbing my coat in hand, I went down the hallway, I bumped into Holly who gave me a smile. “She’s in our room.” Nice girl, that Holly. A real team player.

She even leaned in and added in a lowered tone, “George and João are in the kitchen so you won’t be disturbed.”

Excellent. It was a lovely clear night, perfect for a stroll and snog.

On the top of the stairs, I noticed Laurent wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt standing by the window to the street. He wore a solemn frown until he noticed me. Then I saw evidence that Gabriela had been right. Laurent smiled and rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “Ah bonsoir.”

“Bonsoir Laurent.” I returned the greeting and shot him one of my most charming smiles that I normally reserved for Lucy. A slight blush creeped up onto his cheeks. Very interesting. “You can’t sleep?”

“Sleep is difficult,” he explained in a low tone and didn’t elaborate. Still, I knew what kept him up at night. We knew he had lost many colleagues before seeking outside help. I couldn’t help but feel for him.

Somehow I found myself nodding, “I understand that. So does Lucy.” I added the latter remark as a sort of olive branch. Gabriela’s revelation made me realise I had been a prick to Laurent who did not deserve it.

“Merci,” he responded softly and glanced back outside. “Also… thank you for agreeing to come to Paris. I know you did not have to come.”

“Don’t thank me, I have the feeling you would return the favour if our roles were reversed, right?” I reached out to give his arm a friendly squeeze, which earned me a smile.

“Right.”

There, that was sorted. I felt quite productive. Barnes was safely back to… wherever it was he was staying, Quill was distracted, Holly was on board, the others were preoccupied and Lucy was finally alone.

—


Lucy-

A soft knock on my door pulled my attention away from a sketch I was idly working on. It was of Skull, mostly because he was nearby to observe. Lockwood smiled at me while adjusting his long coat. I couldn’t help but return the smile. Seeing we were alone for the moment made me remember that moment out in the training courtyard where he nearly kissed me. I felt the blush heat my cheeks.

“Hi.” Was that all I could manage? Pathetic. Get a grip Lucy.

“I thought we could go for a little moonlit stroll?” he offered casually but still leaned a hand on my door frame so that he looked right over me. I swallowed. This was it, wasn’t it?

“Sure, let me just get my boots and jacket on.” I turned to do just that but I noticed he lingered to watch me put on my boots. As for my jacket, he gently took it from my hands and held it up for me to slip my arms through it. Had to admit that it was nice he made the effort.

So when he offered me his hand, I didn’t hesitate to take it.

That’s how we walked down the road, hands clasped together. Though as seasoned agents, we made sure to bring our rapiers just in case.

The streets were mostly empty and I felt like I could finally see a little bit of Paris. Off in the distance, I saw the Tour Eiffel and sighed happily.

“Want to go see it up close?” he offered. “It's not that long of a walk from here.”

It was as if he read my mind. I felt myself beaming over to him despite myself. Over the past few weeks, I may have given him a hard time but he had made an effort to make up for the kitchen incident. He had been attentive to the little things: my tea, finding the biscuits I liked, making breakfast and staying close during our sweeps. Now we were taking a walk together like before.

Right Lucy, don’t put him off this time. You’re a world class agent! You can snog a boy without fidgeting like a muppet.

My free hand was fiddling with the small gemstone on the first necklace he had given me but I made myself stop and instead smile up to him.

“You still wear it.” It wasn’t a question but I nodded anyway.

“Of course. The other one is my favourite but I didn’t want to risk losing it.” His fingers wove between mine. The autumn night was cool but I felt only warmth.

He smiled at me as we arrived on the north bank of the Seine river. “Knowing you, the necklace would mysteriously end up back in your possession somehow.”

“Hilarious.” I rolled my eyes, remembering our first big case together.

Lockwood chuckled, however, and we crossed a bridge into a place called ‘Île Saint-Louis’. It was a little island in the middle of the Seine next to another just like it that housed Notre Dame Cathedral. The shops, cafes, and buildings were very charming. I paused to look around in admiration.

“Do you like it? This place is considered safe due to being surrounded by running water. Apparently few hauntings pop up here so you still get late night cafes open. I thought you might fancy some hot chocolate?” He pulled me along to a shop that was still open called a ‘chocolaterie’ and it smelled divine.

“This is lovely Lockwood, did you plan for all this?” I raised a brow but felt a smile plaster itself on my face.

“Of course! Can’t bring my girl out on a date without some planning, now can I?” He shot me a grin.

“Sorry, what was that? Your girl?” Could he really be that thick? 

His grin faltered. "Well I mean, we talked about this before coming here. Remember?"

"Oh, you mean when I thought you were going to kiss me and then didn't? Wait, didn't you leave after that as well?" I let go of his hand to cross my arms.

"Luce, I'm sorry about that. I just, well, I didn't think you would want our first kiss to be in a kitchen during a dinner neither of us agreed to. Isn't this better?" He gestured to the chocolate shop with outdoor cafe tables and ghost lamps. I had to admit that it was more romantic.

All he got from me however was a stubborn shrug. This is why you're going to die single, Lucy Carlyle.

Lockwood however placed his hands on my shoulders and gave me a tender smile. His hand moved to lift my chin so that I was looking at him. "Was that a no to the hot chocolate?"

I forgot how to breathe for a moment. "It's not the hot chocolate's fault you're thick," I finally managed.

This response made his grin return and he slung an arm around my shoulders. "Excellent! You won't regret it, Luce. Parisian hot chocolate is quite famous, though Gabriela swears the Spanish version is superior. Nothing for it, we'll have to try them both before we decide."

He was in such a bright mood that it was contagious and I felt myself soften to it. "You still haven't asked me," I heard myself mumble petulantly.

"Asked you what?" 

"To be your girlfriend." 

Lockwood let out a cross between a snort and a chuckle. 

I bristled. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just you're so cute." Before I could retort, he had disappeared into the chocolate shop. I followed him in with a huff. 

It was glorious inside. Shelves and shelves of chocolates sparking like jewels. All different flavours. I began to ogle as Lockwood used his French to order for us. Next thing I knew he was handing me a paper cup with whipped cream on top of what looked like melted chocolate. He also handed me a small, blue box with gold ribbon inside an elegant paper bag. A selection of chocolates no doubt. I hated that it put me in a good mood almost instantly.

"You didn't have to…" I began, knowing it was useless to protest.

"I know, I wanted to. Also you have the most endearing look on your face when you have food in front of you."

I responded with a deadpan stare that he laughed at. He still laughed even while stirring the whipped cream into his hot chocolate. We were down the street crossing another bridge before I tasted it. A moan escaped me as soon as it touched my tongue. "Oh my god. What is in this!?"

"It's good, right?" Lockwood had a generous gulp but ended up with cream on his upper lip. I stifled a snort but couldn't help it. Soon I was giggling as I reached up to wipe it off.

I felt the softness of his lips as I did it, and in a moment of boldness, I licked the cream off my thumb. We stared at each other for a moment and suddenly my jacket felt too warm. Lockwood cleared his throat and led me towards our next destination, the Notre Dame Cathedral.

We found a bench to sit and finish our hot chocolates. For once, we sat in silence but were very much aware of each other.

"Are you sure it's safe to be out so late when we haven't cleared up the infestation?" I asked Lockwood who held his empty cup thoughtfully. 

"As long as we stay by the river, we should be alright. We'll get a night cab once you're ready to go home." 

I considered him, then said, "You're being gallant this evening, Anthony ."

"I'm always gallant. Or have you not noticed?" Lockwood gasped in mock offence.

"Hmm, I suppose you're alright." I stood up to toss my paper cup into a nearby bin. He did the same before reaching for my hand again. His usual grin melted my resolve to give him a hard time.

I'm not sure how it happened but he ended up carrying my little bag of chocolates while leading me towards the Louvre. The building itself was gorgeous and we lingered a while to look around before moving on. It must have been an hour before we came upon a bridge with the perfect view of the Tour Eiffel.

I leaned on the bridge railing and watched the green glow drench the city around it. Lockwood mirrored me and made sure our arms touched as we admired the view.

"As far as dates go, would you say this was among the best?" he asked with a cheeky nudge of his elbow.

I snorted. "It's not bad. Bit cliche."

"Cliche." The repetition of my critique had him glance towards me in challenge. A strong hand slid around my waist to pull me closer. Lockwood’s breath was warm on my lips. "Maybe there is something I can do to change your mind?"

"Maybe there is. Why don't you show me?" Now this was more like it. Not only were we finally getting somewhere but I had not fidgeted once. Sure, my pulse had quickened and I could hear my heart thundering in my chest, still I was not giving Lockwood the satisfaction of causing me to act like a simpering maiden.

It was, however, difficult to think when his lips were so close to mine. I managed to give him a challenging raise of my brow until his other hand reached the back of my neck. His cheeky fingers grazed the skin on the back of my scalp, eliciting a shiver to run down my spine. A gasp escaped me and that is when he finally closed the gap between us. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as we kissed by the Seine river illuminated by the green glow of the Tour Eiffel.


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