Crying Season

AN: I've been wondering for a long time what exactly went down during Lockwood and Lucy's conversation at the cafe! I don't think I've seen fics about it before, so here's my take.

Also, apologies in advance, but I wrote most of this before I went back to The Creeping Shadow and saw that they actually went to a park first before the cafe. And that Lucy had 3 cups of tea. So this fic doesn't have the park bit and the tea bit. Sorry!

Lockwood took her to the 24/7 cafe just at the outskirts of Marylebone. They had gone there from time to time, but always in the morning, and Lucy found the place off-kilter now, blanketed by the winking yellow glow of the incandescent lamps.

They chose a small, two-seater table right beside the windows, where Lucy awkwardly sat next to her reflection. Lockwood, simultaneously suave and slap-dash like he always was, settled himself on the seat across from her. She had a hard time looking at him. The air between them was charged with a palpable tension, built on the dammed up words they each kept at bay during their walk here.

A preppy waitress, whose smile barely made up for the tired circles beneath her eyes, asked for their orders.

"Black tea for me," Lockwood said with an easy grin.

When the waitress turned to her, Lucy sighed. "I think I'll just have some water."

Lockwood's gaze snapped to hers. "I think you should have more than that." He looked at the waitress and said, "Could you get her a cup of hot chocolate, please?"

"Sure!" the waitress answered, and Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Really, Lockwood, we don't have to-"

"We might be here for a while, so why not settle in? You love the hot choco here." He winked at the waitress. "She loves the hot choco here."

The waitress, a young adult of maybe Kipps's age, nodded agreeably and disappeared behind the counter. Lucy suppressed a sigh. Lockwood was stretching this out. She knew what he was trying to do. She steeled herself.

A few quiet moments went by before Lockwood leaned forward on the table, face serious but kind. Lucy wished she could tell whether the kindness was for her or for him, whether he was in this moment a friend or a businessman trying to win a client over. Lucy wished she knew him better, but the more she wished it the more she understood how futile it was.

"All right, Luce," he said in a soft voice. "I know it's been a tiring few days. Now tell me what's really bothering you."

The Skull had warned her of this. He'd told her that Lockwood would dial up the charm, would run circles around her reasons, would whip out the Kuriashi Turn on her doubts, would bide his time to weaken her resolve. All to get her to stay, because it was easier to do nothing when she was exhausted.

Lucy took a deep breath, and told herself this was nothing personal. She was an employee. He represented a company. It just was not a good fit anymore.

"I told you back at the house," she replied.

He nodded. "Yes, you're worried about your control over your Talent. Is that really all?"

"Is that not enough?"

"No." How he managed to make that one-word answer so resolute, she didn't know.

"Not enough that I almost got everyone killed at Aickmere's?"

"So you're giving up being an agent, is that it?"

"No, of course not! I'm just-"

"Looking for a different team, then?" Lockwood's interruption sent a hot curl of annoyance through her. "So you're saying you're okay with endangering other people's lives so long as it's not mine and George's."

"Oh my god, will you let me speak?" Lucy snapped.

"Yes, please! I wish you would! The floor is yours. Help me understand."

The beat of their exchange felt too fast after the prolonged silence between them, and it made her head reel. Lucy had not expected Lockwood to give up on her so easily, and she would probably have been insulted if he did. But she recalled his words after they finished with Little Tom's case, that he would not jeopardize the safety of his team, that if she wanted to spend the rest of the winter alone she just needed to say the word.

Now she'd said it. She should have foreseen how difficult this would be. Lockwood never made personal conversations easy. The number of personal conversations they actually even had should be a testament to that.

She took another deep breath to centre herself. Once again she reframed her situation into something more professional, something with a clear detachment, the way she did when anxiety and fear crawled like maggots in her stomach during particularly difficult psychic investigations. For someone so full of life, Lockwood had the same uncanny ability as ghosts to turn her into wrought bundles of nerves.

That comparison sent a flashing image of the ghost-Lockwood in her mind. Lucy swore under her breath. She had tried so hard to suppress those memories, but when they came back, they did so in full force.

"Luce, I can't help you if you don't open up," Lockwood prodded, more gently than before.

What was she supposed to say? If I stay I'll end up killing you? Or maybe she didn't want his help. Maybe she didn't want to open up this time. Maybe he ought to feel what she felt all those time she'd longed for him, reaching for a deeper part of his self, hoping for a reciprocity of trust, but always, always, bumping into an impenetrable door.

But even as she thought that, she knew she was being unfair. Lockwood meant something to her, and she couldn't hurt him like that, because she out of all people knew how awful it felt. Even she had limits to her spite.

"I just think that I need some time to really figure out my Talent," Lucy started. "And I should do it in settings that are not... emotionally charged." As soon as she said it, she became aware of how that sounded. She added hastily, "What I mean is, work is work. I can't have anything distracting me, see. An agent should be professional – you taught me that – and I haven't been acting like that with Lockwood and Co. I just think that having been here for so long, I've mistaken professionalism... for something else. And it's nobody else's fault but mine. So, uhm, I need to learn how to maintain a more professional distance. While I beat my Talent back under my control."

Lockwood stared at her, and she could tell he was trying to process that hot mess of an explanation she just blurted out.

"So, you plan to be a freelancer then," he said slowly. "I mean, if I understand correctly what you meant by maintaining distance. You don't want to stick to a single team."

"Exactly."

The waitress finally came back with their orders. Lucy's hot chocolate had whip cream on top, sprinkled with chocolate powder and hazelnut sauce. She remembered just how much she really enjoyed it, but somehow she didn't feel as excited this time.

Lockwood took a sip of his black tea, while she stirred the whip cream.

"I guess I just don't understand why you need to leave the team for that," Lockwood said when he put his cup back down. "I can draft up a code of conduct for missions that will help you, as you say, 'maintain a professional distance.' I can make it binding. I don't think George or Holly would mind too much. You can even move out, if separate living arrangements would help. I can even help you look for a flat.

"Besides, your Talent has been growing stronger ever since you came. This isn't something that came out of nowhere. I've noticed that almost every month, your Talent has yielded results more impressive than previously. You've taken that in stride and learned to work with the developments. But somehow this time is different. What is it?"

Well, a talking ghost from the future gave her an ominous warning about her role in Lockwood's death. That ought to make things a little different, shouldn't it? Even if it may not be real, she wasn't really willing take the risk.

"I think I can hazard a guess," Lockwood ventured. "It's Holly-"

"No, this has nothing to do with her," Lucy cut in.

"It's the only thing different about the company this time. We have a fourth member, and you've made it clear from the outset that you didn't like her-"

"George and I didn't like each other at the beginning either, but I didn't leave-"

"So what is it about Holly-"

"It's nothing about Holly! Goodness, are you even listening-"

"You've made it almost impossible for me to find a way to integrate her into the team. You say you're 'worried' about her inexperience, but every time I try to get her to help out, you just-"

"This isn't about Holly, and if you can't stop talking about her, I'll just leave!"

Lucy huffed and looked away. Which somehow made it worse, because she found the waitress sitting behind the counter at the corner, eating a muffin, and watching her and Lockwood like a soap opera finale.

The truth was that Holly was such a sore topic for her, because it wasn't like Lucy was unaware of how catty she'd been. Oh, she knew. Especially after what happened with the poltergeist. And the burning shame of it curdled her mood even more. Lucy had always felt that Holly reflected all of her flaws, but somehow, in a sorry attempt to avoid confronting them, Lucy had behaved in ways that exacerbated them.

It didn't help that Holly seemed to get what Lucy always wanted. Holly got to be vulnerable without appearing pathetic; she incited the boys' nurturing instincts without compromising a single strand of her competence. Meanwhile, Lucy bent over backwards trying to prove her worth, mastering near impossible sword maneouvers, ensuring the correctness of her psychic perceptions, and despite all that, she always managed to mess things up somehow. She couldn't show a moment of weakness without George questioning her. And her overly-capable image was a brittle, little thing, with few rewards of affection to make it even worthwhile.

"You've got an attitude problem," Lockwood muttered, crossing his arms.

That would have riled her up any other time, but Lucy pounced on it. "Yes, I'm aware. And... that's another thing I want to work on. My attitude has been an issue, and I don't think Lockwood and Co. should be burdened with -"

"Oh please!" Lockwood threw his arms up in the air. His composure had all but evaporated along with the steam of his tea. "Why is it so hard to get a straight answer from you?"

"I've been answering you all this time, but you're just being difficult because you don't like them."

"I'm being difficult?"

"Let me ask you a question then!" Lucy said, her heart pounding with her daring boldness and her audacity to hope. "Why do you want me to stay? Because I'm a good Listener? We're a dime-a-dozen. There are others out there. You've never had a problem finding quick replacement before. It's been eighteen months, and you know my time's up!"

"What are you nattering on about?"

Lucy's hopes plummeted, and she sat back against her seat, deflated. She had challenged what Flo Bones said about Lockwood, and his response was to be deliberately obtuse.

That gave her the strength to hold firmly to her decision. Something happens to a person when they were disappointed too many times.

So when Lockwood regained his calm and he suggested giving her easier cases, she said no. He offered her a raise, and she said no. He promised to come up with a better procedure for apprehending Sources. She also said no. He painfully considered getting team uniforms to establish a more professional image. Again no. He'd pay for anger management classes for her. She almost thought about it, but clamped it down with a solid no.

"Okay, just tell me what will make you stay!" he demanded.

Your safety, she thought. Your friendship. Both too much to ask for. "Nothing," was her soft reply.

Lockwood swept an agitated hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was loud, his tone tipsy. She had never seen him so unravelled before. "You know what? Never mind. We've gone in circles long enough, and I've had it. You want to work for Fittes? For Rotwell? Go ahead. Go be a liability on my competitors, for all I care."

He stood up then, slamming his hand on the table with a force strong enough to make her jump, but he'd just left a few coins to pay for their order. The sound was still ringing in Lucy's ears after he'd made his way out of the cafe.

She sat there, immobile, for a long time. Her mind replayed the way he said 'my competitors' and not 'our.' She was off the hook. It was a victory that didn't taste like one.

Lucy didn't know how long she stayed there, but at some point the waitress came by and picked up the change.

"Um, this only covers his tea, you know," she said.

It took a moment for Lucy to understand what the waitress meant. "Oh," she breathed, and groped for some money from her pockets, only to realize that she hadn't brought any. "Ah, I'm sorry about this but, actually, I didn't touch this hot chocolate at all."

The waitress gave her a knowing look, then rolled her eyes as if she was long-suffering. "You know what, girl? I got your back. That was quite possibly the worst dump I'd ever witnessed. You can have that hot chocolate on me. My treat."

The older girl collected Lockwood's cup, and went back behind the counter. Lucy stared out of the window, gaze searching for the steady beam of the ghost-lamps to somehow root her. But even they provided little comfort. Something drastic had changed, and she knew it. Lockwood had never acted that way before. It seemed like she got her little wish to see more of Lockwood's inner landscape. She got a full, unabashed view of it now. He was all craggy hills of anger and sweeping waves of frustration. Funny how things played out. Death's in life, and life's in death. Lockwood was open, and she was closed. The world had tipped, and Lucy didn't know which way was up anymore.

AN: A small shoutout to Up Dharma Down for being an endless supply of fic titles and soundtrack for me. This one is based off of their new song called Crying Season, which I thought was fitting for when Lucy left. No other band can make songs that match all of my OTPs. And I mean all.

Hope you enjoyed!