Under the Floorboards (and In the Walls)

In Sickness and In Health-Lucy

I lay awake on the sofa. Sleep evaded me. I stared at the ceiling and replayed that night in my mind. I know that I hadn't taken anything from a case. Not since Annabelle Ward. And that was different. Heck, I haven't even purchased a new shirt in weeks. How could a source suddenly show up in my room like that?

I must have dozed off for just a few minutes because when I awoke again it was still dark. I sighed. This was going to be a long night. I missed my bed. A movement by the door caught my eye. As I adjusted to the dark I could make out Lockwood, leaning against the door jam. He stood there a moment and then stepped into the room. Slowly. Softly. As to not disturb me. I shut my eyes. I don't know why but I didn't want to announce my consciousness. I could feel him next to me. He gently touched my hand and... was he checking my pulse? I shivered as his touch lingered and he jerked back. He pulled the blankets up around me more tightly and I heard his soft step across the carpet and out the door.

I fell asleep with a smile on my lips.

-

Lockwood woke me the next morning when he came in with a tray piled with bandages. "How did you sleep?" he asked with a smile.

"Ok." I yawned. "This couch is comfy." I whipped the blanket off and the shock of the morning air put a stop to my yawn.

Without a word Lockwood knelt down. Thankfully, my ghost touch was just above my ankle to my knee which isn't super embarrassing. I heard of an agent at Bunchurch who got it right on their bum. The jibes were as expected.

Lockwood carefully unwrapped my leg. His touch was so gentle that I could barely feel him. Still, the loss of pressure from bandages and change brought a surge of pain. I gasped.

He looked up at me with concern, pausing with his work.

"It's fine." I said through gritted teeth. "Carry on, Mr. Bowditch."

I kept my eyes closed during a majority of the process. Mostly as a defense against the pain.

Finally it was over.

Lockwood patted my knee. My other knee. Not the hurt one. "There you go Luce," he said with a gentle smile. "You're well on the road to recovery."

I groaned. "It's only been a day but I feel like I'm going crazy."

"You're hearty." Lockwood reassured me. "I'm sure you'll recover quicker than you think."

"Then I think I'll be better in an hour."

Lockwood smiled but then produced a bottle of pills. Pain pills. I reached for them eagerly. He shook a couple out. "Don't take too many, but these should take the edge off."

I swallowed the pills and then noticed that Lockwood had put the bottle back in his pocket. "Hey!" I protested.

"Doctor's orders. These are pretty strong." He looked at me with sympathy. "Ghost touch hurts like the devil, I know. But it'll be worse for you if you overdo these. I just don't want you to have the temptation."

I was prone to overdoing it on pain meds. And these things were strong. I could already feel them.

George walked in, ready to go the archives.

Lockwood stood up. "Ah George. Excellent. I was just heading out myself."

My heart dropped. They were going out. I was stuck in.

"We have that school case tonight, correct?" Lockwood asked briskly.

George confirmed.

"I've got to stop at a couple places for supplies. And then find a pair of crutches." Lockwood studied me for a moment. "If you're up to it Luce, I could use your help with making up salt bombs."

I jumped (not literally) at a chance to be useful. It would take the edge off the fact that I couldn't go with on the case.

"Also," Lockwood added, "A delivery of coal will be coming in today."

"Coal?" I asked.

"Yes. This winter has been cold and I'm trying to find a way to cut down on fuel costs. If we heat the house some with coal in the fire places it might help in the long run."

It seems like money was always tight. I knew I could get paid more if I went somewhere else. But would Fittes or Rotwell have George's scones? Or Lockwood's smile?

-

Lockwood had carried me down to the basement. Walking was too cumbersome and painful still. I hated to be such an inconvenience. He got me set up with the salt bombs and then left. I made it a goal to get all of them made by the time he came back. And I was proud of myself when, hearing his quick step on the stairs, a pile of neatly wrapped salt bombs were waiting for him and I was busy oiling a length of chain.

He stood for a moment watching me and I felt a blush spread up my neck. Get it together Lucy. You can't go all tomato every time he looks at you.

"Do you need anything, Luce? Water or anything?"

"No," I said lightly, "I'm good."

"You feeling ok?"

I couldn't lie. "Pretty sore." The pills had worn off.

Lockwood looked at me sympathetically but said, "These salt bombs look great. Thanks so much for your help."

I laughed a little mirthlessly. "It really is this least I can do."

Lockwood sat down across from me Indian style. He picked up a rag and a bottle of chain oil. "Don't feel useless Lucy. I'm sorry you're out of the game for now but I'm sure you'll be better soon and then you'll be on cases again." Then he added, "I hope it's soon."

I poured my frustration into the poor chain link. "I just don't like to be doing nothing. I know we have so many clients and things to do."

"Yes, but this kind of thing is something an agency has to expect." Lockwood frowned slightly. "Maybe not a source attacking an agent in their room, but agents get hurt all the time. Heck, don't you remember last month when we were all down with food poisoning?"

I laughed at the memory. We had a case in a restaurant (chef murdered dish man in a heated argument over ruined pasta. The source was a bottle of whiskey the poor man had hidden under the sink. A spirit in the truest sense). We made the mistake of eating rotten food that had been set out, not for us, but to be thrown out the next day.

"You have been a help, Lucy." Lockwood was saying. "And I'd just like you to know that I'd rather you be 'doing nothing' as you put it, then dead. It was a very close call. That can't happen again."

I flushed with annoyance. Lockwood still thought this was my fault. That I'd been thoughtless and stupid.

"Tomorrow," Lockwood continued, "We're going to go up to your room and figure out what the source is."

I looked a question and Lockwood answered, reading my mind, "I put some iron sealings on the door to the attic for now. It's safe temporarily, but soon," he said with his trademark smile, "you'll be back to normal and want to move back up there."

"I asked the Skull if he knew where the source came from but he's mad at me and won't say anything nice at all." I offered.

"We don't need the skull to help us with everything, Luce. We'll be fine on our own." He gave me another special smile. And I smiled back. You can't help feeling hopeful with Lockwood.

We worked quietly on the chains for a while before the sound of the grandfather clock upstairs broke us out of our reverie. With Lockwood carrying me, we went upstairs. George was just getting home from the archives so Lockwood made sandwiches while George briefed him on the case. It was hard to get into the case knowing that I wouldn't be there with them. Then, as nights before, Lockwood brought me back to the living room and I wished my friends well. They left and I was alone with my thoughts. 

Happy Sunday! Hope you all are doing well. Another Lockwood and Co week is closing. Really excited for what's coming up in Week 7. I really hope it'll be the week we get the announcement. #SaveLockwoodandCo #GhostLockAwards