Locklyle One-Shots

𝖀𝖕 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕬𝖕𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕻𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: When Lucy returns to Lockwood & Co. she can't help but love the simple things...and Lockwood loves that she loves them.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Deadly Locklyle pining as always...

𝕬/𝕹: OK WHERE DO I BEGIN! LOCKWOOD AND CO IS A SHOW???? IT'S ACTUALLY GOOD??? AND LIKE....CAMERON CHAPMAN AND RUBY STOKES????  HOLY CRAP! So basically these one shots will continue lol, but instead of just imagining everyone in our heads we can imagine the cast of the show now! Also I'll let y'all know if my one-shots are more based off book events or the show's events (likely they'll be closer to the show since it's more fresh in my mind.) ANYWAYS! All that fangirling to say I finished Season 1 and desperately need Season 2 and IF WE DON'T GET A LOCKLYLE KISS AT THE END OF THE SHOW I WILL DIE. Last thing, I changed the plot for this so that Lucy hasn't seen what's in Jessica's room until she gets back from leaving Lockwood & Co.

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘: 3042

☞ ☜

𝕰𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝕷𝖚𝖈𝖞 𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝕻𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕽𝖔𝖜, she couldn't seem to stop skipping. At first, Lockwood wrote it off as a chipper mood, but the twirling and skipping and bouncing became too consistent. He hated to say it, but the truth was that Lucy Carlyle was rarely in a good enough mood to dance around the house in a blissful blur. She'd never been one to hum or twirl before, yet here she was now, bounding up the steps, lightly prancing off of each foot like some delighted toddler who's just been handed a large cone of ice cream. Lockwood stifles a laugh, but finds himself unable to hold back his grin at the sight of his Lucy acting so strangely. When they met, it seemed like life had this grip on her. A dark, evil handhold that Lockwood knew all too well. She smiled. She laughed. She teased and seemed happy.

Underneath all of that, Lucy was sad.

It hurt Lockwood to see it. Not as badly as it hurt to not see her at all, for months on end. The day she moved out, Lockwood felt like someone had dropped a bomb down his throat. He stood outside the attic door, forehead pressed to the wood, wishing he could catch the muffled sound of her voice as she spoke with the skull, or the scampering of her feet as she moved around, researching the ghosts she felt a connection with. Lockwood felt empty without Lucy Carlyle. He missed her infamous smile; the smell she carried with her of chamomile and cherry. As agonizing as it was to watch Lucy struggle with depression when she joined Lockwood & Co. Lockwood found himself missing those days. Anything is better than this: than not having her near.

Than not seeing her.

But it is so incredibly better to see her like this.

Skipping. Smiling. Happy.

At the landing outside Jessica's bedroom, Lucy twirls, then notices Lockwood leaning against the railing and flinches.

"Lockwood —" She gasps, eyes wide as saucers. Her hands claw at her chest, a movement that draws Lockwood's eyes instantaneously. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," I've still got it, Lockwood rejoices at the breath of pink curling across Lucy's cheeks. He's never missed a blush so much in his life. Drunk on the high that comes with getting a rise out of her, Lockwood presses his luck and teasingly asks, "What's going on with you and the stairs?"

"Me and the what?"

"The stairs," Lockwood leaps onto the first step and reclines against the railing, "You're skipping up them. And don't try to deny it —" Lucy's gaping mouth snaps shut; Lockwood grins. "I've seen you skipping – not that I've been watching I've just noticed you've been skipping...quite a bit."