Just this once, Anthony Lockwood was shaken.
Just this once, a case had gone wrong – very wrong.
Just this once, all three members of Lockwood & Co. had been ghost-touched – Lockwood's arm, Lucy's hand, George's leg.
Just this once, Lockwood couldn't sleep.
Just this once, Lucy Carlyle found him sitting alone in the dark kitchen, staring into a cup of tea that had long since turned cold.
Just this once, Lucy sat down next to him and put her bandaged hand on his shoulder, careful not to disturb the sling.
Just this once, Lockwood met her eyes and let her see the fear, the pain, the worry.
Just this once, his good hand found hers and squeezed it tight.
Just this once, Lucy squeezed back.
Just this once, Lockwood led Lucy up the stairs.
Just this once, they walked into his room.
Just this once, Lockwood released Lucy and went to his bed, climbing in and moving as far over as he could.
Just this once, he looked up at her with eyes full of worry and suppressed hope.
Just this once, Lucy shut the door and climbed into Lockwood's bed, letting him wrap his uninjured arm around her.
Just this once, Lockwood held her like he would never let go.
Just this once, Lucy wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes.
Just this once, her lips brushed his cheek and his brushed her forehead.
Just this once, they were both afraid, both realizing how easy it would be to lose each other.
Just this once, they fell asleep in each other's arms, and everything seemed perfect.
Just this once, they didn't speak.
Just this once, they didn't have to.