Lucy:

The porter gave me a polite nod when we entered. A look of confusion ghosted over his face and he looked at me when Lockwood asked for directions.

The man pointed us in the direction of the elevator, but I was quick to find the entrance to the stairs.

"This was always a nice neighbourhood. Not like the other places that used to be dumps but got 'trendy' or whatever."

"You've been around these parts then?" I asked the skull conversationally.

"Yeah, I always rubbed elbows with the rich and famous. Even after good old Bickerstaff died. Some of them took pity on me," it reminisced, almost fondly. "Of course, I did kill quite a few of them too."

"Of course, you did," I rolled my eyes.

"Has the skull been here before?" Lockwood inquired.

"Actually, the building has a sort of familiar feel. The lobby has obviously undergone some sort of renovation but there is something. I can't put my finger on it."

"You don't have fingers,"

A ghostly scoff filled my ears. "You know, that is SO insensitive of you!"

I shook my head.

When we reached the right floor, Lockwood knocked on the wrong door. I frantically knocked on the right one so Quill hopefully would let us inside before the neighbour opened and saw us there.

Lockwood gave me an odd look.

Quill thankfully opened the door before we were busted, and things got awkward.

I pushed the others into the flat and I swiftly closed the door behind us.

Quill looked around at us. "The hall outside isn't haunted too, is it? You look like there's something chasing you."

I shrugged. "Possibly the neighbour. Lockwood knocked on the wrong door."

"You know, I think I have been here before. It seems more and more familiar."

"The skull might have been here before." I informed Quill.

His eyebrows went high on his forehead. "Perfect!"

He took the jar out of my backpack.

"Hey!" I protested, but Quill continued on with the jar under his arm.

I followed him into the living room where I found him holding the skull up towards the middle of the ceiling.

"Could you please tell me, if this is the original stucco?"

He didn't say anything. Instead, the plasm in the jar blinked twice.

Quill lowered the jar with a sigh. "No, you won't tell me or no, it isn't the original?"

The skull made a very rude face.

"Come off it, you wanker. It's a simple enough question; it the original stucco?"

The jar blinked once.

"Thank you! I tried to tell my mum, but she won't believe me."

"His mum is totally right. I've never seen that shit before."

Then Quill brought the skull with him into the kitchen and I was left standing, shaking my head and wondering what the hell was happening.

"Are you going to stand around all day?"

"Come in the kitchen!" Quill called out and I set in motion.

"Did you just steal my skull?!" I demanded, honestly a bit outraged.

"YOUR skull? I am my own entity, thank you very much,"

Quill shrugged apologetically. "I was a bit excited. Sorry. Anyway, come in – dinner's almost ready."

The others slowly came into the kitchen. Especially Lockwood looked around suspiciously.

"What sort of client would let you cook in their kitchen?" he asked slowly.

"The very happy and grateful sort," Quill winked at him.

Lockwood's jaw clenched. "You're the client, aren't you? You lied to me. And you helped him!" he turned to me with an angry scowl on his face.

"Oi. I'm the one who did this. She's barely even the messenger here." Quill pointed out.

I don't know why, but I felt like protesting that."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lockwood demanded of me.

"I –"

Quill put himself between us. "Because I told her not to."

"So, you're taking orders from him now?" Lockwood demanded.

"Lucy," the skull whispered.

I scoffed. "I'm not taking orders from anyone."

"Pssst, Lucy,"

"What? Why are you whispering?" I snapped at the skull.

"Because I'm trying not to call attention to myself,"

"But none of the others can hear you,"

"Well, the 'other' others still can, and I sort of remember why I remember this place,"

I groaned. "Why?"

"Because I may or may not have made the ghost that haunts it."

"Perfect. That's just perfect. Just what my evening needed," I grumbled.

"I have a feeling he might not be happy to see me."

"What is it?" Lockwood asked, now all business.

"The skull remembers the flat. He also remembers that he was the one to kill our ghost."

Quill laughed. The joyful sort of sound that comes all the way from the belly.

"Is something funny?" Lockwood asked coldly.

"I just find it absolutely priceless that out of all the people, ghosts and human remains out there, we actually manage to bring the murderer to the crime scene after more than a century," he chuckled.

"Maybe we could use the skull as bait?" Holly suggested, considering the jar.

"There – see? I told you she's trying to get rid of me."

"No one is being used for bait," Quill shot her down.

"Thank you," the jar pulsed with a short bright green light.

I still tried to wrap my mind around the… whatever it was the two of them had started.

A timer went off.

"Let's just eat and we can talk about it all over dinner, yeah?" Quill suggested.

I looked at him and maybe I looked a bit too sceptical.

He raised his hands placatingly "Relax. It's just salmon with asparagus and new potatoes. I'm just getting to know the oven."

"It smells lovely," Holly gushed.

Quill smiled at her. "Just sit and I'll bring it over."

He waved us towards the large dining room table. It was slightly cramped, even if it was a big kitchen, but my guess would be that he would move the table in the living room once we cleared the space from the ghost.

Once we were all set and dinner served, Quill stood and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry Tony. Yes, I bought this flat, it's mine, but I am also a client and I do need your services, but I have something else to talk to you about as well."

Lockwood only scowled at him.

He stood for a bit, biting his lip as if he was debating whether or not to go forward with whatever he had to say.

He sighed. "I can trust all of you here, right?" He looked at each of us in turn. His eyes lingered a bit on George who gave an if only slightly reluctant nod.

"As Tony no doubt have told you, Kate Godwin is gathering information for us from inside Fittes."

He hadn't.

"Things are getting a bit a bit pinched for her at the moment though."

Lockwood rolled his eyes. "So, she wants to back out."

Quill snorted. "No. She wants to go deeper."

Lockwood's eyebrows went high on his forehead.

"Don't look like that, Tony. She wants to bring down Fittes too. She isn't blind to what's going on there. None of us are."

"How come I never knew all the bad things?" George asked in a small voice.

Quill gave him a small rueful smile. "You never exactly reached physical training, Cubbins. Be grateful for that."

"Cheers," George raised his glass, and I went along with him.

"Anyway," Quill continued, holding the back of his chair tightly. "Kate feels like she's being held back in the company by her friendship with me. I'm not exactly the most popular person at the moment."

I snorted and he gave me a look which I returned with a smile.

"Now, she has suggested that we stage a little something. Fittes is one giant rumour mill. The amount of gossip passing through the Strand is beyond belief. Kate and I have been a topic basically since she came on my team. Even when she was seeing Ned, people still thought we were together. We're close friends, but we've never been anything other than that."

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"What she's suggesting is to use the rumours to our advantage. Since people already think that Kate and I are together, the easiest way to put her above suspicion is to stage a break-up. A messy one. Then it'll look like she's cutting all ties with me and they might start putting more trust in her and let her deeper into the new parts of the organisation."

"Isn't that incredibly dangerous for her?" I had to ask.

"What new parts?" Lockwood asked at the same time.

Quill wrinkled his nose. "It would put her in a dangerous position, yes. Regarding the new parts, I'll elaborate on that later."

Lockwood huffed. "Then what do you want to do?"

"Kate wants to break up with me. As in pretend that people have been right that we've been together all this time," Quill rubbed his face. "But it has to be ugly and messy, so people won't believe there's any chance in hell of reconciliation." He stared stiffly at his plate.

Lockwood rolled his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic and get on with it already."

Quill scowled at him and turned towards me. "Conveniently, or inconveniently depending how you look at it, one of the other younger supervisors – one who hates my guts and is obsessed with Kate, saw you and I," he pointed between himself and me, "walking together and told Kate. At the same time, Gale has been approaching her to get my new address. I'm worried what sort of pressure he might put her under if she doesn't cut ties with me."

Lockwood frowned. "I didn't realise it was so serious."

"Either way, she's in deep shit if I don't help her if only because of Gale. The idea was to make some sort of spectacle where she accuses me of infidelity, and we break up."

I nodded slowly, getting the idea. "And you plan on using me."

Quill sighed. "I'm not asking this lightly. You don't have to do anything, but your reputation would be in tatters. I'm fully expecting you to slap me right now and storm out."

He looked me directly in the eye as if daring me to actually do it.

"Do it, Lucy!" the skull whispered. "Do it for me!"

I gave Quill a small smirk, "We're not reputable anyways, are we, Lockwood?"

Lockwood put an arm over my shoulders and gave me a small squeeze. "Indeed, we aren't, Luce."

He smiled at Quill who plopped down on his chair in front of him.

"Thank you," Quill groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"But keep me posted on what happens when, yeah? I assume some people might take offence on Kate's behalf?" I winced.

I felt Holly's hand slide into mine and give it a squeeze.

Quill frowned. "There might be a few people who will be genuinely upset for her but mostly it's a territorial thing. It's not that Fittes people in general take care of each other, but they do not take insults lightly, and this would be a slap in the face. Dating agents from rivalling agencies is already controversial enough, isn't it, Tony?" he smirked at Lockwood whose cheeks went slightly pink.

I scratched my arm. "I just don't know how we would make it believable. I mean, Kate is… Kate and I'm just me. I mean, if – in theory, you had Kate, what would you want with me?" I shrugged.

Holly scoffed and George frowned.

Quill blinked at me. "I'm sorry, I don't – I don't get the question."

My cheeks warmed. "I hope you're not going to force me to elaborate on that."

Lockwood squeezed my shoulder again. "Don't you worry about that Luce. Now, could you please tell us more about these new things at Fittes?" he asked Quill who looked slightly annoyed but answered anyway.

He told us about Fittes exerting their influence over the night watch kids and the way they were infiltrating the police.

"Sounds like we need to get a move on if we want to do something or Penelope Fittes will have herself crowned in less than a month." George commented.

"Kate is working on the schedule for the guards and keeping an eye out for Michaels, but I do know another place we might find him." Quill wrinkled his nose.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?" Lockwood mumbled under his breath.

"The Black Heart"

"Ah," Holly grimaced.

"You're familiar with the place?" Quill asked her with an eyebrow raised.

She snorted inelegantly. "You do realise who I was an assistant to, right?" she leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed.

Quill grinned. "I take it Rotwell was a frequent visitor?"

She made a face. "I had to make personal appointments there for him at least one time per week."

Lockwood grimaced. "Really?"

"That's nothing. He sometimes insisted that I accompanied him to the dancing shows," she shuddered.

Quill leaned forward. "So, what you're saying is that you actually know the layout of the building," he smirked.

"No. Oh no, whatever you're thinking, you stop thinking it right now!" Holly protested.

Lockwood turned to look at her over my head. "Whatever could he be thinking, Holly?" he asked with faux innocence.

"Hold up, could someone please explain to the northerner, what the Black Heart actually is?" I interrupted them.

"Gentlemen's Club," Lockwood answered at the same time as George said "Whorehouse."

"One of the nicer ones too, if I recall. The girls there usually had all their teeth."

My cheeks flamed and I hurried to take a drink of my water.

Quill cleared his throat and I saw that his face had gone a bit pink too.

"I've never been, but if you know what it's like in there, do you think you could come up with a way we could steal the key?" he asked Holly.

"Actually, we wouldn't have to steal it. We could just make a mould of it. That way no one suspects foul play because the key won't actually be missing." George offered.

Holly gave an irritated huff "The coat room, maybe."

"Elaborate," Lockwood requested next to me with one of his most charming smiles.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "If one of us could sneak into the coat room and do what George said. Take a mould of his keys. They're likely to be in his coat pocket, aren't they?"

"Do you think they might bring me if I promise to be good?" the skull whispered, apparently still trying not to call attention to itself.

"No. Shut up!" I told the skull through clenched teeth.

Quill looked at me like he was holding back a laugh and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"But how will we know which coat is his?" George questioned.

Lockwood's smile widened. "Well, if one of us were to take the coat from him directly, I think that should be easy. Like someone who knows the building. Someone beautiful who the establishment would probably be eager to hire?" He looked at Holly with a raised eyebrow.

She covered her cheeks with her hands. "I really don't like where this is going."

George looked at her impassively. "You mean the way we want you to take on a second job as an exotic dancer or a coat check?"

"You can't be serious," I butted in, putting a hand on Holly's shoulder. "Look at how uncomfortable she is. There has to be another way."

Quill raised his hands. "Of course, there is. I'm sure we could handle it with a bit of stealth, but your knowledge would really be invaluable, Holly."

She took a deep breath. "I might know a way in, but I've only ever used it to get out. Sometimes when Rotwell was done looking at the dancers, he would... stay. And I preferred leaving without being seen."

"Sounds perfect," Quill smiled.

"But you shouldn't go alone," Lockwood determined.

Quill frowned. "I can't go. That place is full to the brim of Fittes supervisors and upper management…" he trailed off and his face took on a dreamy expression. "Actually, if we wanted to destroy Fittes Agency we might as well just torch the place on a Friday night. Get all the bastards in one fell swoop," he mused.

"Marry him, Lucy. If you don't marry him, I will."

"You can't ma – you're dead," I hissed at the skull.

"Struck a nerve there, did I?"

"I'll go," Lockwood offered. "We'll figure it out, you and me, Holly." He sent her a brilliant smile over my head and leaned in front of me to give her arm a squeeze.

"Alright," she agreed in a small voice.

It was the Lockwood effect. When he looked at you like that, there was nothing you wouldn't go along with.

Quill:

We finished eating and slowly the sky began to darken outside. Lucy kept glancing at the skull in the jar. It was strange to observe how she was around it. How, even though I knew she was listening to it psychically, she would still turn her ear towards it. As the night fell and we all became increasingly more alert, she would put a hand on the jar from time to time. I don't know which one of them the comforting gesture was supposed to benefit.

We put out a nice big chain circle in the middle of the room, one more near the entrance to the kitchen and one, closer to the window where Lucy had sensed the ghost.

"I see you bought padlocks. Smart!" I noted.

Tony gave me a rueful smile. "I figured it would be a good idea after last time."

I rubbed my cheek where I had been cut by the Source of the Screaming Spirit from Aldbury Castle. I had been lucky that it hadn't healed too bad. Almost no scarring. The one above the eyebrow, not so much. It would take me a while not to feel self-conscious about that one.

Lucy and I went to stay in the circle near the window, leaving Holly and Tony in the one in the middle and Cubbins, suitably near the kitchen.

"Could we please agree to avoid the flares tonight? I really like these floors. I'm looking at you Cubbins. For all I know you still have one of those big things stuffed down your trousers somewhere."

Cubbins grinned at me over his shoulder as he rifled through his bag. "That's no flare."

I cringed. "No. It's just your arse."

He showed me his middle finger.

"I can hear something," Lucy called out and we all went silent. "Do you all have Seals in your pockets?"

We did. This was the third time she had asked for confirmation.

The skull in the jar had gone completely dark. We probably couldn't count on it for help.

"Are we sure it's a good idea to have the skull here? I mean, it's probably not going to make our ghost here more agreeable." I pointed out.

Lucy glanced nervously at the jar.

"What do you say?" she asked. Then her face fell.

"He says it's already too late." She looked frantically around the room.

I pulled the Orpheus glasses up from where I had let them hang around my neck and saw ghost-fog slowly seeping in from the hall.

"Here we go," Tony warned.

I watched as the figure of a tall well-dressed man came into the living room where he stopped near the big circle and turned around with a furious expression.

He had a violent argument with someone unseen, but I knew who the mystery person probably was. The man lunged at the invisible person who had to be a bit shorter than himself, judging by the chokehold he was holding them in.

Then almost out of the blue, the man had been flipped over and laid on his back wide-eyed and fearful. He tried to get back up, but his opponent wouldn't let him.

Then a rope was slowly being wound around his neck and tickled his nose with the brushy bit at the end before the rope tightened. The man clawed desperately at the rope while looking up, probably at the face of his killer. It took several minutes of the man fighting and jerking around on the floor. Then half-consciously, he staggered on his legs. He supported himself against the wall next to the window before slowly falling out of it.

Holly let go of the breath she had been holding.

"There's really no doubt now that the skull is evil. Just look at what it did." Tony sneered.

"That almost looked like self-defence to me." I argued.

"Would you strangulate someone that long in self-defence?" he asked.

"I might. And that man was walking at the end. He fell out of the window."

"It – it tickled the man with the rope! An absolute psychopath! Could you do that?"

I smirked "Depends how much I hate the person. I know people I'd dress in a feather boa and cover with glitter before slitting their throats with joy," I informed him honestly. Lucy made a squeaky sound at my side. Her entire face had gone a deep pink and she stared at the skull with absolute outrage.

Tony scoffed and opened his mouth, no doubt to spew some moralising nonsense that had nothing to do with reality.

Then the ghost was back. It was glitching in the middle of the room, where it had been lying spasmodically on the floor moments before.

It looked thunderous and it was looking straight at Lucy who stood with the jar in her arms.

"No. You can't have him." She ground out at it. "Guys start knocking on the panels!" she ordered "The skull says there's a hollow one, but he doesn't remember which."

Then before I had time to grab her, she ran out of the circle.

"Go!" she shouted when none of us were moving. "I'll keep him distracted!"

I shook my head in exasperation and started tapping the wood panels. The others followed.

Lucy ran around in the living room, hurrying from iron circle to iron circle like some bizarre version of 'the floor is lava'.

The ghost was constantly at her heels and my heart went higher in my throat with each narrow escape.

We all tapped furiously, and I managed to find a hollow spot just as Lucy tripped over the chain in the middle of the room. The jar with the skull rolled across the floor, but the ghost didn't have interest in it anymore.

"Crowbar!" I yelled and Tony threw me one before dispelling the ghost with his rapier. Just as soon as it was gone, it re-materialised however, catching Tony off guard so he had to jump to avoid it. The ghost was still gaining on Lucy who was lying prone on the floor, ghost locked. It went unhurried now that it had her helpless. It was leering at her and I realised that it was enjoying it. The skull might be a bit of a psychopath, but it clearly wasn't the only one.

I swiftly broke open the panel and found an old piece of rope lying at the bottom, near the floor. I ripped the silver net, that was far too big, out of my pocket.

I wished that I could have tightened the rope around the ghost's neck myself, but I had to settle for the next best thing and smothered its Source in silver. My ears popped and the spirit hovering over Lucy disappeared.

"Still have pity for that thing?" I sneered at Tony who had broken out of his stupor.

"I don't have pity for any ghost," he spat.

Lucy blinked as she recovered. Then she laughed heartily.

"It wasn't even the windows," she giggled a bit hysterically.

I thought about Mrs Thompson's pinched expression and about exactly how much money I had saved on this flat and then I was in stitches too.

The others looked at us, uncomprehending.

Through my laughing fit, I told them the story and how much exactly Lucy had saved me.

Then, even Tony quirked a smile.

"In that case, I have no guilt whatsoever about taking that money. Hell, this place might as well be Lucy's too," he remarked before his cheeks went pink.

I got to my legs and dusted myself off with a head-shake.

"She can have it if she wants to, mate." I mumbled and slapped an arm on his back.

He gave me a rueful smile and nodded. "It's not a bad place."

"Anyone up for a cuppa?" I called out.

There were scattered mumbles of agreement.

We had dispelled the ghost at ten, but the others didn't leave until two. We sat around with tea, coffee, and biscuits. Tony found a deck of cards and I found out that Cubbins cheats at poker. It was the most fun I'd had in quite a while.

Somehow, I found myself feeling lonelier after they left, and it wasn't because they had taken the resident ghost with them.

I always got some "cute but psycho"-feels from the skull. Don't know why.

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