Dent in the Bullet ✷ Anthony Lockwood.

02. Welcome to Lockwood & Co.

LUCY'S NEXT THREE weeks with Lockwood & Co. would confirm that they were, in fact, good enough for her. The quartet had come to work very well together, except for Lucy and George's daily spats, but those were honestly more amusing than harmful. The routine that Lockwood, Mathilde, and George once shared had grown to include their new member; with Lucy now picking up her own share of weekly errands, each house member only had to go shopping once a month, she would often help with the dishes in a desperate attempt to get George to like her, and Mathilde was ecstatic to have someone to gossip and tease the boys with. 35 Portland Row had, very quickly, become the home all four of them (mostly) peacefully shared.

Now that Lockwood had managed to fuck up so catastrophically, however, Mathilde wasn't sure Lucy would still think the agency was good enough. After all, it was their boss' impulsivity that led to the predicament the team was currently in, and Lockwood fighting (and losing) a battle with a ghost they hadn't known was occupying Sheen Road while Mathilde dangled over the stairwell wasn't exactly the best look to be wearing in front of their new recruit.

With Lockwood and Mathilde both preoccupied, Lucy was left to panic at the head of the room. She was trapped between the wall of the chimney breast and the mystery ghost's back, out of her sight as Lockwood fought her but not safe to cross over to where Mathilde's grip was quickly slipping. With her rapier long gone on the other side of the room, Lucy watched as her new team slowly lost grip on the situation (physically and metaphorically.)

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Mathilde yelled from where she was dangling from the railing. Lucy couldn't be sure exactly what the expletive was in response to, but she wholeheartedly agreed. 

As Lockwood and the ghost spun in their combative dance, Lucy good see her boss' eyes darting between his opponent and Mathilde. It was a good thing Lockwood was as talented of a swordsman as he was. His attention was divided — that much was clear from the way his non-dominant hand kept itching toward Mattie's direction, as if at any moment he may allow it to lead his entire body away from the fight and toward her — but he was still able to combat the ghost.

"I've got her, Lockwood! Get Mattie!" Halfway through Lucy's verbal permission, Lockwood was already abandoning his defenses and rushing over to the stairwell. By the time he reached Mathilde, she was only gripping onto the railing with one hand, the other desperately trying to unstick her foot from where it was caught between the bars.

She and Lockwood struggled, the two of them now facing a fight against gravity as he tried to pull her body up from the awkward position it was tangled in. To be fair, the added chaos of Lucy's rapier swishing as she engaged in a one-sided screaming match with her opponent did bring some additional tension to the situation. 

"We haven't got the time for you to pull me up! Just help me get my foot out and I can drop down!"

Lockwood looked at her almost incredulously. Even with her feet fully under her, the drop to the bottom of the stairs would surely result in a sprained ankle at least. "Shut up?!"

As if Mathilde's self-sacrificing was just the encouragement he needed, Lockwood yanked her foot free, simultaneously pulling her back onto the landing. It was a miracle the two didn't land in a pile on the floor. Probably less miraculous, if you ask Mathilde, that their situation had landed the two in very close, blush-inducing quarters. Leave it to her to find time for romance in the middle of a life-threatening case.

Lockwood's hand brushed its way up to her forearm, squeezing the skin there as if to remind himself she was there. Really, it was a blessing that Mathilde's goosebump-ridden arms were hidden away under her layers of clothing. The house was well in the negatives now with the phantom at hand, and she still felt as though the room was hot.