Lockwood and co netflix series fanfiction
Female oc x male oc
Mid slow burn
Nathan Carlyle brother of Lucy Carlyle our talentful listener. He's not the best with his talent but he's natural with a silver blade and a couple salt bombs. He works for J...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
George and I got ourselves situated in the kitchen. George was cooking and I was doodling on the thinking cloth. As I was doodling George placed a cup of tea in front of me and I shot him a smile and thanked him.
"So, what did you think of them, then?" I said looking up at him to see he was stirring something on the stove.
"The boy seems civilised enough, but that girl, Lucy was it, you don't think she's a little annoying." he said quite passionately.
I raised my head and looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on my face. "That's some strong feelings you have there, Georgie." I said in a soft teasing tone.
"Don't look at me like that and don't insinuate anything, alright, I know how you think. It's just...I don't know if this was a good idea. I mean what if they're lunatics!" he said in worry, overthinking again.
I got up from my seat, walked over to him and placed my hand on his shoulder and forced him to look at me. "Listen to me George, you don't need to worry about them being lunatics or murderers okay. I sensed their aura they're both good people. We'll be fine. The agency will be fine. Just try to be nice, okay?" I pleaded with him.
He sighed deeply and nodded. "You should drink that tea, don't want it getting cold." he said with a small smile.
I sat back down at the kitchen table and picked up the Times and flicked through it. "So, what's our next case? We haven't heard much for the past week, it's getting a bit boring." I said keeping conversation.
"Well, a Mrs Hope phoned yesterday. Says her house is being haunted by her dead husband. Seems awfully suspicious if you ask me." he said leaning back against the counter.
"What? You think it might not be the husband?" I said sceptically.
"I don't know, she didn't give me nearly as much information as I would've liked, but she gave me the address of the property. I was planning on going to the archives early in the morning, find as much stuff as I can about the history of the house." he said with confidence as he always does when talking about this type of thing.
I was about to say something when the door opened and in came Anthony followed by Nathan and Lucy. I straightened in my chair a little," We call this the thinking cloth." he said and knocked on the table walking past me. "We jot down memos, theories, trains of thought. It's a very useful tool. I located the bones of the Fenchurch Street Ghoul by sketching out the street plans here at three in the morning over cheese on toast." Anthony finally finished with a cocky smile. By the time he had completed his monologue he moved over to lean against the basement door.
Lucy and Nathan were looking at the drawings and words scribbled down across the thinking cloth. "When a case goes badly and we're not speaking to each other, it's good for exchanging insults too." George said in amusement, with one hand still stirring the food he was making.
