cryingteacups:
irispurpurea:
cryingteacups:
LOCKWOOD AND CO GOING ON A CASE LAST MINUTE TIL CHRISTMAS AND GEORGE TRICKING LOCKWOOD AND LUCY UNDER THE HEAVILY PLACED MISTLETOE.
“George! For the last time, put down that ridiculous silver bell and come help us with these chains!”
“Just a minute, Luce! I’m sure it’ll work beautifully this time! It just has to be positioned perfectly… hmmm…”
With his tongue poking out from between his teeth, George made meticulous adjustments to his latest Rotwell contraption. Lucy rolled her eyes and turned away to find Lockwood kicking the iron chains into a rough circle.
“Temperature 40 degrees and holding,” called Holly from the other side of the room. “This is definitely the room she’s buried in”
“Ah!” Lockwood gasped and jumped back. “Cold spot” he grunted, stamping his feet, “right outside the chains. I’ll go ahead and move these over a bit, Luce. You hear anything yet?”
“Not quite…” Lucy began
“I GOT IT!” Yelled George, making everyone jump.
“For god’s sake George!” Lucy hissed at him. “Leave it alone already!”
“No no no, you see, it’s not the position of the bell thats the problem!” George was grinning now. “It’s our position! In the room! Luce, I’ll need you to move just a few steps to your left. Oh go on Luce!” George pleaded when Lucy looked back at him stone-faced. “I really think I have it! Go on!”
“Just humour him Lucy,” called Holly from her corner. “It’ll be over soon!”
Lucy huffed and shuffled her feet. “A bit more! More! That’s it, just a bit more!” George called. Lucy glared daggers at him but kept moving, until suddenly she stumbled into Lockwood. “Oof. Sorry Lockwood!”
“It’s alright Luce,” Lockwood began, spinning smartly on his heel. “Here I’ve just finished the-”
Lockwood’ eye had caught a flash of green on the ceiling. He stared fixedly at the ceiling. Lucy was alarmed to see his face flushing slightly red.
“George Cubbins,” Lockwood mumbled, his hand on the hilt of his rapier, “I will skewer you, I swear”
“What? What’s going - oh.” Lucy saw it too. The mistletoe.
“Hem. Well” Lucy cleared her throat and turned her head to glare even harder at George. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “If you seriously think we’re going to… to… right Lockwood?”
Lockwood gave her a wonky sort of smile. Then, in an instant, he leaned in and kissed her.
In another instant it was over, and with a swish of his coat Lockwood turned to adjust the chains once more. Lucy was rooted to the spot, completely speechless. Lockwood’s “Merry Christmas, Luce” was just barely audible under a loud “WHOOHOO” from George.
AHH THIS IS BETTER THAN ANYTHING I WILL EVER WRITE
AHHHHHHHH I SCRE A M