Locklyle Reimagined [A Lockwood and Lucy Fanfic]

She's A Listener (Lucy)

"Lockwood, darling I'm so glad you could come." A peck on his cheek. A woman slightly older than Holly welcomed us by the door, hugging Lockwood as if she knew him well, and this was their custom. To hug this way.

"This is Ms. Baudelaire. An old friend and our client for tonight." Lockwood proudly introduced her. 

"Hello," She gave an elegant curtsey. I thought Holly was annoying until I saw her. Ms. Fench-last-name-that-I-keep-messing up.

"She complained about a loud visitor," Lockwood went on. "Good thing, Claire, since we have the best Listener in the country, with us— my associate, Lucy Carlyle." He pointed at me.

Oh, right? I am. Great.

"You're in good hands." I urged on, faking a smile. Will someone please kill me?

"I will be in the green room," Ms. Baudelaire said in her gentle high pitch tone, thay annyoed me for some reason. "So, that I may not be getting in the way of your work. Good evening, and good luck!" She bowed again.

For someone as elegant as her, I would have expected a fancy little tea party and a little tittle-tattle to come with it, but there was none.

"I do think that hug was a little too friendly," George murmured as he passed me.

"George!" Holly scolded.

"I know what you're thinking, Luce." George pats my shoulder.

"No, I'm not—what?" Good thing Lockwood was still escorting Ms. Baudelaire to her green room by the edge of the garden. Plenty of time for me to pick myself back up and carry on with this job. That's what I was made for, anyway. To be an agent. Do my job. Not sit by a green room, and be a coward to not pick up a single rapier in my entire life.

I started jotting down the temperatures of each room. One room struck me, in particular. The drawing room. Lowest drop in temperature, out of all. The skull stirred up inside my bag.

"I sense something...jealousy, perhaps? Oh, I highly believe!" It sneered at me.

"Shut up, I'm not in the mood for it." I sighed. Fighting the tears that are pushing to get out. "Please, not now." I really don't have the energy for any more insults.

"Where's Lucy?" I could hear Lockwood's voice nearby.

"She's checking out the rooms over there." I could hear George reply.

I hear his footsteps. As distinct that I would recognize it anywhere.

"Lucy...?" His voice was hushed.

"Shh...shut up,I'm tuning in." I said, sounding sharper than I thought I would. My back was facing him.

"Alright... I'll be here." I could hear him rest his rapier; its edge pointed to the floor. "You surely need my vision,"

"No, you need to stand by in the next room," I said, quickly. "There's only four of us, we can't split into two. The other rooms need supervision, too. You have to go." I just want to get rid of him.

"Okay, I'll get going now..." He sounded hesitant. Defeated, as he should be.

I hummed in agreement, then I shushed him again.

"Skull, do you have anything?" I asked.

"The source is behind the second row of the shelf, just in front of you. Middle section." The skull replied, in a vague tone. The only thing it had to do was to yawn, and you'd know it was bored of this.

"Are you sure?" I asked. The skull was never this straightforward, nor was it really helpful, at times. "Why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?"