Christmas On Portland Row
"Oh those two." Lucy stood in the middle of the kitchen, utterly speechless.
Today was Christmas Day. December 25th in all its colorful lights and bright sounds. The house was decked in red and green decorations with crepe streamers of every Christmas color strung upon every nook and cranny.
The fire roared with its warm orange fire, dutifully protecting its inhabitants from the cold. Their tree stood merrily next to the crackling fireplace.
The day promised cheers all around; merry carols throughout the night; and most importantly, a well-deserved break for Agents.
Normally, Lucy wouldn't be up at this time as they've just encountered a nasty Raw-Bones a few nights ago that required nursing of chilled bones and raw bums for quite some time. But today was an exception and she came bounding down the creaking steps of 35, ready to help out with the Christmas party preparations.
Imagine her surprise when she noticed three new notes on their half-filled thinking cloth and one very empty kitchen waiting for her.
She sat on her usual chair slumped and glum for a good five minutes. After which she took her toast and hot piping tea and began reading these notes over and over again.
One in George's neat and tidy handwriting said: "Going out for a while. Be back at around noon."
Lucy glanced at the jolly cuckoo clock who sang its usual lively tune which now that Lucy thought about it sounded mocking and false. Still the yellow plastic bird spoke the truth and the clock read a quarter past twelve. Lucy grumbled and turned her back on the clock.
The next note written just beneath George's in a rather hasty mess of squiggles and scribbles read, "I'll be in my room, I've an awful headache. Please don't disturb unless absolutely necessary. –A" Beneath this as if added only as an afterthought, "Oh and Merry Christmas"
The final note gave hope; maybe a bit of insight as to what had caused Lockwood's sudden headache and George's disappearance.
"Don't wait up, I'm spending Christmas with my mother." Lucy could tell George wrote this in a hurry.
Lucy could feel her anger simmering followed by a heavy thud like a stone plopped to the bottom of a river. She stood up realizing this would be a very lonely Christmas.
"Well, it's not like this was anything new." Lucy's spent more than one holiday alone in the company of more than one ghost.
"Right, then." Lucy got up and grabbed her coat from the stand by their skull lantern. "I guess I'll be off." She said loudly, hoping that George would bustle out of the kitchen and invite her to stay for another round of his flapjacks. Or Lockwood who'd whistle a happy Christmas tune while he'd flash his blinding smile and ask her where she was going. And she'd suddenly find her anger silly and stay while she and her colleagues laughed at some joke George made. But her good-bye was only met with silence.
A few hours or so, she found herself wandering the streets. And amidst the color and life, she wove through the crowd like a ghost lost among the living.
Her day out and alone was fun. She visited street shops and stalls she never got the chance to try and ate food from all the famous (and hidden) cafes. Kids were running in circles, adults were leisurely taking their time and strolling down the street. The city was blanketed by pure white snow.
Of course Christmas did nothing to halt the escapades of many ghosts or stop the spirits from drifting into our world. But this was the day mortals just would not allow themselves to be overpowered. It wasn't a simple matter of any old holiday tradition or memories of a time when the Problem wasn't as big as it was now. No, this was about taking back the time they've lost that year.
The humans were fighting back. Efforts to suppress the Problems were more evident today; Lucy couldn't take a single breath in without the smell of lavender hitting her square in the face. Agents and Night Watch kids were stationed at every block along the busiest streets. Silver charms hung at double the amount on an ordinary day and if you'd look closely, majority of the Christmas decorations were made out of iron.
Lucy burst out of the busy crowd and stood there panting and sweating despite the cold. In the time she was out, she'd been thinking of something to do while she spent the night alone. Every single player card game, sad Christmas record and couples of friends and family she passed made her more depressed. It wasn't until passing by an antique silver shop did she realize she hadn't gotten her colleagues a gift. After some time, her breathing finally slowed and found herself standing on the sidewalk awkwardly carrying two heavy paper bags.
The sun was soon setting and the gray sky turned a grayer.
"I guess there's nothing left to do but celebrate Christmas alone." Lucy sighed and hailed for a cab asking the driver to take her to 35 Portland Row.
By the time she stepped out and paid the cabbie, snow was falling again its pale white glow contrasted with the dark and cloudy sky. Lucy sneezed, rubbing her nose in an attempt to keep it warm. She felt around her pockets hoping to find her keys.
Stepping into the dark corridor, she noticed the faint green, red, blue and yellow lights flickering faintly from their sitting room. She peered below the door to the kitchen hoping to see the glow from their kitchen lights but there was nothing but silence.
Lucy shook her head, deciding that being alone couldn't get her spirits down and she set her paper bags under the Christmas tree with their gifts then made her way to the kitchen to make herself some nice hot cocoa.
"I wonder what I'm supposed to cook." She sighed, "I can't cook as well as George can. Even Lockwood could make bacon sandwiches better than me. I guess tea and cakes is all I'll be having for dinner." She reached for the door handle when she heard a mumbling sound from the kitchen.
She stopped for a minute, her heart beating quickly. "George?" She pushed the door open without waiting for any word.
"Well who else would it be?" George said, flicking the lights on and welcoming Lucy with a pop and a bang and a drizzle of colorful confetti.
Lucy couldn't believe her eyes. Their kitchen was its usual organized mess and every countertop was piled with a strange mix of magnesium flares and salt bombs ready for packing and apple cores and cereal boxes and et cetera. But what had caught her attention was the mountains of food piled on their great table. The walls were covered with a paper sign saying "Merry Christmas!" with a picture of a round Santa holding up a crystal glass on it. There were even party hats and those little horns that when you blew, a paper strip would pop out as well.
"George… I…" Lucy said, dumbfounded.
George stood there looking at his handiwork. "Yeah, it took some time. I had to ask my mum to come over and help with the decorations. How do you like it?"
Lucy simply looked at George, her eyes round and her mouth dropping to the floor. "I.. Uh…"
George scratched his head and said, "Well let's not waste any time now shall we? I'll go call for Lockwood." And with that he exited the kitchen leaving Lucy to comprehend what had just happened.
Lucy was so relieved she wouldn't have to spend Christmas alone. She'd found herself in London working in an Agency along with two good colleagues, people who she could consider to be friends and comrades – when just a year ago she wouldn't have ever dreamed of ending up here.
Slowly, her shocked 'O' lifted into a wide smile and she walked around the table, inspecting the rows of desserts and treats George had prepared. She rushed to the sitting room to put on an old Christmas record Lockwood's parents left. The familiar jingle of Let It Snow played throughout the house as she poked the fire to get it starting again.
She was just about finished when George's heavy footsteps came crashing down. "Where's Lockwood?" Lucy said as she noticed that no second footstep was coming down to greet them.
George's eyebrows were furrowed and he crossed his arms, "His bed was empty. There was no one upstairs."
"That can't be right. I heard him snoring in his room before I left." Lucy said.
The two stood there silently contemplating whether to ring up DEPRAC to see if Barnes had called him in or to go out and look for him right away. But it seems they needn't go out because a knock on the door came, followed by Lockwood's cheery voice ringing out from the corridor.
"Happy Holidays, Lucy and George! Say, is that roast beef I smell? Excellent! I rather like George's roast beef. Come now, you two. Mustn't let the food grow cold." With that Lockwood stepped into the kitchen leaving a trail of snow and wet footsteps behind him.
Lucy and George's stunned expression was soon replaced by one of excitement and the three sat down, eager to tell each other about the day they've had. The trio laughed and joked around, passing around the mashed potato and even having a small argument once in a while on who'd get the final chicken.
"Lockwood," Lucy asked. They've finished toasting and are taking long gulps of orange juice.
"Hmm?"
"Where did you go, anyway? I saw your note on the thinking cloth saying that you were sick and didn't want to be disturbed." Lockwood's grin widened and he started. "Well it's really quite simple. And oh! Look at the time; it's starting! Come along, George, Lucy." He ushered the two out of their seats and up the stairs.
"Where are we going?" George asked, as Lockwood continued to support them.
"Yeah! And you still haven't answered my question." Lucy said, trying to look back at Lockwood.
Lockwood only grinned and said, "To my surprise, of course!"
Lockwood and the others burst in to Lucy's room. The attic was dim and her bed sat by the corner, still unmade from this morning. Her clothes and towel lay scattered across the room but despite the open window, she found herself as warm as she was standing by the fireplace.
Lucy whirled around, her cheeks red. "What are we doing here? Lockwood did you go into my room!" She whirled again to punch Lockwood in the arm but he sidestepped with ease and laughed wearily.
"No I did not. I asked Flo to come over and help me set up the surprise." Lucy let out a disgusted noise at the thought of Flo Bones rummaging through her things. She swore she could vaguely deteact the faint aroma of the Thames at low tide.
"Shall we go on then? It won't be as fun if we're late." Lockwood patted Lucy on the head and made his way to the window. George shrugged and followed him out.
Strange enough, the iron guard that protected Lucy from ghost and mortal thieves at night was nowhere to be found. "Oh don't worry about that, I'll have Flo put it back." And Lockwood swung out of the window and climbed up to the roof as if this were as natural as climbing up their stairs.
George watched Lockwood go apprehensively, "Umm Lockwood, I don't think I'd like to tumble to my death during Christmas." George's doubtful expression and concerns mirrored Lucy's own.
"It's okay, George. You won't die today." Lockwood smiled as his head appeared upside down.
George went first, though keeping his expression as neutral as he could even with his face turning surprising shades of green, red and blue and back to green again. Lucy wanted to point this out to George saying that he resembled their Christmas tree but seeing as her own face was laced with terror, she said nothing. Oh it was a lot easier when you were being chased by a madman called Winkman. But climbing up in the cold without anything to hold on to? Not that was a whole other story.
Lucy kept her eyes shut the entire half-story climb to the roof. But as she reached the top, she felt a pair of strong arms grasp her hands tightly. Lockwood pulled and Lucy collapsed on the tiled roof, thankful she was still alive and breathing.
"Good, we're all settled." Lockwood's grin still outshined the lights of the city and was far too bright for Lucy's taste. "Settled?" Lucy gasped, trying to slow her beating heart.
"You need to exercise more, Lucy." George panted, beside her. "Speak for yourself." Her breaths were forming white plumes in front of her face and her fingers were turning to popsicles.
"It's freezing here! Care to explain what we're doing up on the roof?" George nodded in agreement.
Lockwood sat down beside Lucy and pulled a warm blanket over her shoulders. He tossed George a similar wool blanket. "Just relax, the show's almost starting."
With a magician's flourish, he got up and gestured to the shinning London skyline. In a hearty voice he exclaimed, "Merry Christmas, George! Merry Christmas, Lucy!"
All of a sudden like flowers blooming in the spring, fireworks burst overhead. London was glittering as the red and green sparks fell from the sky. The Thames became a sea of light.
Lockwood stole a glance at his colleagues. They were just as mesmerized by the fireworks as he was. George looked stunned, as if the fireworks cast a spell on him. Lucy's eyes twinkled with the shinning colors; her mouth was partially open. And she looked like just like a little kid seeing the sky alive for the very first time.
Lucy noticed Lockwood staring at her and beamed, "This is amazing!" Lockwood returned her excited smile. And Lucy turned back to watch another burst go off into the night.
Lockwood halted, unsure whether or not he would be heard over the loud popping of the fireworks. Still he decided. And besides, it was Christmas. What could possibly go wrong?
Leaning in closer, he whispered and brushed his lips on Lucy's cheek, "Merry Christmas, Lucy Carlyle. And have happy New Year."
Author's Note
MERRY CHRISTMAS~