Our Fatal Flaws

Chapter 3: The Hunt Begins

Lucy POV:

As soon as we entered the drab building, George came alive beside me and began to greet people. This was probably where he made all his questionable friends. He had just finished a lengthy conversation with an old man in a tweed jacket, who bore a striking resemblance to someone I had recently seen on TV, so I decided to go over and remind him what we were here for. "George, that information won't find itself. We need to get a move on. We are supposed to be heading off tomorrow, and I don't want to turn up with no knowledge of what we are facing. What would we do then?"

"The Lockwood & Co classic of course" he replied nonchalantly.

"And what would that be?"

"Blow it up"

And with that, he strode off towards the book that would tell us where to look for the history, and architecture, and all those other things that I despised with my entire being. I was itching for some action, but first, we needed to make sure we weren't about to walk into a minefield of ghosts. Come to think of it, Crawford probably knew of our involvement in Combe Carey Hall, even if she didn't believe we had anything to do with her Uncles death, it still seemed a bit strange that she would ask us. But I quickly brushed off my thoughts because George was standing by a pillar, waving at me to come over.

When we eventually found the section we needed, we each grabbed a handful of magazines, books, and old newspapers and began reading. I was halfway through discovering Miss Angela Parks' tragic backstory in the 1860's when I heard a voice that was all too familiar to me.

"Hey Jemima, where's Tony? Not on babysitting duty today I see?" Kipps never specified whether that remark was aimed at me or Lockwood. I looked up to see the small, ginger boy, wearing a slightly tight grey jacket. At his belt hung a bejewelled rapier that shone in the most aggravating, annoying way possible, colours dancing over the walls. He was unmistakably an overconfident, cocky, vain Fittes agent, but this was the same overconfident, cocky, vain Fittes agent who a while ago, we discovered had no talent left and yet had attempted to help, even save, me from multiple, evil jerks. And for that, I was still mildly grateful. Enough to have the respect to not tear his head off when he called me 'Jemima' despite obviously knowing my name.

"Nope, Lockwoods away on a big case, and we are doing some research on one of our own, so if you wouldn't mind," I said whilst gesturing to the exit " Please allow us to continue. The mere sight of your face disturbs me so much, that if you're here I simply can't do anything except wonder how your parents got so, incredibly unlucky." I heard George make mimic gag noises behind me. As taken aback as I knew Kips was, his composure didn't show any sign of anger. His face remained calm and his hands gently rested on his rapier.

"A little old for insults, aren't we Lucy? Why don't you get back to what you were doing, after I tell you what I came to tell you."

"Which is?"

"Barnes knows that Lockwood's gone, he also knows that you two have accepted a case without your leader present. Normally, he would allow it, but seeing as it's your agency." He said, eyeing us up and down "In his words, he doesn't want to have to drag your sorry, ghost-touched behinds in from the side of the road, so he's assigned me to go with you."

"What." George came to stand beside me.

" You still get a full commission, however, due to the importance of the case, he feels as though two agents might not cut it. He also does not want to wake the fire department up early."

"But we've been on solo cases before, besides it's probably just a couple of shades and a spectre" You could hear the fury that was bubbling up inside of me. Us? Work with him? Sure we had arsonistic tendencies, but we got the job done. Me and George were just as good as Lockwood, if not better (together, not separately), also, why Kipps? He had lost his talent, surely Barnes knew that.

"Barnes does not want to take any unnecessary risks, so he is also putting someone else on the case."

"Someone else? Who?"George was mouthing under his breath about strangling Bobby's tiny form if it was him.

 And as if on cue, a girl stepped out from behind Kipps. She was almost as tall as George, but not quite near my height, and had short, black hair in neat waves, with bangs that framed her face. She had a pale face and a spattering of freckles on her nose, which was nicely proportioned and quite childlike. She was clad in a baggy Fittes uniform, that hung loose in all the right places so that she generally looked cute and very huggable. She couldn't have been any older than 10. But the most striking thing about her was her eyes. They were different colours. Her left was grey and her right was an electric blue. When she set her eyes on me, it felt like she was looking into my soul. The feeling made me shiver, and want to hug her less.

"This is Ivy. She's an all-rounder like Cubbins over there, just much more talented. Very well-known in our agency. Oxford Street's Poltergeist situation? Remember that? She was part of that team, did herself proud. Not too shabby with a rapier either. Count yourselves lucky she agreed to this. Barnes is paying us, but lower than usual rates so be appreciative, she's saving you a lot of trouble."

Be appreciative. BE APPRECIATIVE!? I was about to explode when George held his hand out to stop me. He knew it wouldn't end well either way. I cleared my throat and gave Kipps death stares as George kept the conversation going to get more details about why exactly Barnes was meddling with cases. Apparently, it was even all checked out with Angeline, who had said 'the more the merrier' to the prospect of two extra agents. Eventually they both left, leaving a sour atmosphere in their wake. They would meet us there tomorrow.

" I can't believe that just happened." George nodded in agreement.

"It's not like the Inspector to get involved in agent work. What does he know." I could see George had his thinking face on and I realised I hadn't asked him about the fruits of his labour yet.

" Oh, yeah. There have been no prior deaths or tragic accidents. It should be clear, but for some reason, it isn't. I want to know why. It might be why we needed some more people." he looked me dead in the eye and said, " We should go with them and not complain, we may need them."

I wanted to protest but I knew he was right.

 Later that night when we were packing, I saw Lockwood's spare rapier, propped up against a shelf in the storeroom. Without thinking I picked it up, weighing it in my hand, and gently swishing it back and forth, making the air sing. I hoped he was OK. His case was not too hard, and he wasn't in life-threatening peril. I wondered if he missed me. My cheeks flushed a little at the thought, but I quickly shook it off and returned to my salt bombs, and magnesium flares, hastily shoving them in my bag.

I went to bed that night, ready for what the next day would bring, but I went to sleep dreaming of a familiar face. One that could make me feel empowered with a simple smile, one that would look at me with such fire in his eyes, it made my heart melt, one that would lay down his life to secure my safety. It was a night that I slept well.

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