The Golden Coast: A Locklyle Fanfiction

Part 8

SUPER-MEGA-FRAGI-LISTIC IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Soooo, a HUGE, LIFE-CHANGING MOMENT IS ABOUT TO OCCUR: THE MEETING OF TWO SHIPS!!! FOUR PEOPLE DESTINED TO BE SOULMATES. LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  With love, the over-excited-super-happy-shipping-author-who-is-as-of-now-sitting-in-bed-doing-the-kicky-leg-thing-and-giggling-while-twirling-her-hair-faster-than-a-Texas-tornado.

  Also, in this fanfiction, let's just say Kipps is much more hotter than he is in the series. I mean, on Netflix, he kinda-sorta looks, respectfully, like a brick just hit him in the forehead and he is still recovering from the trauma. So, in this version he's gonna have reddish-brown hair and ice blue eyes. Also, Flo's gonna have strawberry blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Also, someone else will arrive. 

  Lucy P.O.V

    We meet George on the landing, the Skull's jar cradled in his arm. Both he and the Skull wears a knowing grin, which makes Lockwood and I instantly flush. "So, what did I witness recently?" George asks. (Skull says something PG-18 for all the readers that would prefer to keep living with the tiny bit of clean-mindedness they have)

  "We were just tidying the room, and LOCKWOOD HERE DECIDED TO TRY TO BREAK THE BEANBAG. WITH ME." I then smack myself on the forehead. "That sounded sooo wrong. What I meant is he dropped me onto the beanbag." George's grin was growing more and more, while the Skull was keeping up a running commentary that was extremely...obscene to say the least.

  Suddenly, my phone dinged from my pocket. (I'm not sure if they actually had mobiles in the series, so let's just say they do) I check it and find a text from Holly and a little selfie. We're at the airport!!!!! Then the new one: PICK US UP PLEASE!!! Quill is trying all sorts of new American drinks and now has ordered ten cups of a bubbly drink called Mountain Dew, I think. But that's ridiculous, because it doesn't have a single drop of water, apparently. He's going crazy. I wordlessly show George and Lockwood the screen. 

  George exhales. "Hate when that happens." he jokes in a horrible American accent. And then we're all laughing, thinking of Quill and poor Holly, and then Lockwood gasps out "Flo's there, too!" and we're all breathless by now, so all we can do is hack out the remaining air in our lungs, imaging Flo trying to strangle Quill and Holly trying to hold her back. 

  Brief Lockwood P.O.V

  We've retired to the living room while George totters around upstairs, trying to get ready. We're still faintly breathless from all the laughing, when Lucy leans her head back and lets out a final, chiming laugh, and in the highlight of that moment, her hair cascading down her back, her frame outlined in golden light, I take a mental picture, and know I'll treasure that moment forever, feeling at peace and happy with two of my closest friends beside me.

  Back to Lucy  

  Finally, George finds an acceptable pair of trousers to wear. Lockwood cautions him: "If you want to look good around Flo, maybe put them on AFTER you bend down to tie your shoelaces." George flushed a deep crimson at the mention of Flo, but stubbornly didn't follow Lockwood's directions. 

  When we got to the airport, I choked on oxygen briefly, leaning onto Lockwood, who stumbled slightly. Holly was casually dressed!!!! She had on a shirt and leggings, plain with no pattern and not a single stitch of anything fancy or designer anywhere! She even had a hoodie wrapped around her waist. Quill was unconscious, draped over a luggage cart, but it was also odd to see him in a shirt and cargo shorts. It actually suited him. 

  Flo was EXTREMELY different. She looked extremely grumpy and out-of-sorts, but much better than before. The constant swampy air about her was almost gone! Her hair was combed under the straw hat she was still wearing and she was wearing an entirely new outfit of shirt, loose fitting jacket and jeans. A new, minty smell hung about her. Holly later confessed to helping her fit in at the airport.

  "Why do I smell like a cucumber!" she complained. "Was this really necessary?" Holly sighs. "We'll be at the beach soon, and then you can go swimming and digging for shells. Sort of like hunting for relics. But it'll be warmer. And you'll be less muddy and more sandy." Flo nodded, but I couldn't be sure if she really understood or not.  

  I started for the car, but Lockwood gently grabbed my arm. I turned to look at him, confusion evident on my face. He whispered: "There are a few more people coming, I believe." I sigh, leaning back against one of the airport's marble walls. "Who?" He grins. "It's a surprise." 

  I sigh and dramatically flop onto a plastic airport seat. Lockwood thuds down next to me, George next to him. Holly neatly perches on the end of the aisle, right beside Flo, who's sitting on the other side of George, him trying to hide his blush, furiously polishing his spectacles. Quill finally wakes up, slightly dizzy and with a bad case of vertigo but upright enough not to immediately fall over.

  About ten minutes pass by. I chat briefly with Holly, Flo and Quill. Lockwood and George have gone to greet the mysterious arrivers. We pop off to the cafe Starbucks nearby for a quick drink. Luckily, there was only a short wait at the register (I wish). I order a chocolate-y cold drink, Holly decides on a caramel macchiato, while Flo just gets shortbread cookies. Quill, still looking a little pale, nurses a cup of hot orange tea. 

  When we slip out of the shop, Lockwood bolts forward and throws himself in front of me. I try to peek around him to see who they are, but he covers my eyes and whispers: "I told you, it's a surprise!" I grumble, but walk slowly, tripping over a chair leg. Lockwood manages to catch me, and for a brief moment it's extremely awkward, but he turns me back around and I keep walking blindly. I feel my way, then my hand brushes against a face. It's been so long, but I would recognize her outline anywhere. I squeal. "MARY!!!" We share a long hug, and when I finally separate from her, I see over her shoulder another figure.

  My blood goes cold. I could never forget her, but my heart sung with hope for the first time since the moment I saw her in hospital, frozen and ghost-locked. My brain tells me it's impossible, but there's only one person with that reddish hair color. We step towards each other and I can barely breathe. "Norrie?"