"By 'eck, he's gonna have my head now!" Lucy cursed under her breath, sighing.
Lucy combed a hand through her short ginger hair as she dashed into the Scotland Yard, giving a side glance to one of the officers eyed her in a considering manner that would normally elicit concern but she had no time to think of it. She was madly late, again. It didn't matter that she just turned twenty-three; Dartwright still expected her to be prompt and precise to the office and gave her hell every single time. Of course, she gave him hell back by solving the case faster than he could keep up, but it was still all the same—she was late. She'd rather not gain the ire of her mentor in any other manner other than that; he'd definitely keep her as an assistant forever rather than offering a good word of her work if she continued that way.
Lucy turned a corner, nearing the back offices with an apology in her throat when she heard a voice that she had only heard in person once and thrice in phone calls, berating his audience in a manner that was ever so familiar to her. It was the baritone that she used to read every letter she received in her head; the man that she believed in wholeheartedly and had been corresponding with for several months now. That same voice, it seemed, based on the commotion in the next corridor, was inciting chaos. She furrowed her brow, confused.
"...that same attitude that you're extruding, Justin, is the very reason why the Judas case hasn't been solved under your supposed watchful eye, as per usual. How did you manage without me?" The voice snarked and she could practically imagine the way he must look—positively seething.
"If you're referring to the Judas case I think you're referring to, you know that it's solved and you're just being a prick, as per usual." The voice of Justin Lawson rang out in the hallway, booming and deep as it always was, emphasizing the final few words.
"I'm not here to argue with any of you." The owner of the voice let out a long and exasperated sigh. "Let me pass, it's my damn office, Lawson. I'm trying to surprise her. I know she's not taking a day off for her birthday, don't try to fool me with that excuse."
What was Alfendi doing here, back so early? It was the 20th, not the 23rd, she knew that for sure. The Detective Constable had been counting the days, excitement in all of her letters as each day passed. How could she not?
"Hah, fat chance, Layton! As if Lucy would ever be associated with you." Another voice, Blaine's to be exact, remarked. Lucy frowned, a surge of irritance hitting her at his words. "You're not welcome here ever since your little stunt, you know that. The moment you turned to the needle was the moment you lost the privilege of owning this office. The only reason why it's even untouched is because Barton is friends with your father."
Lucy slowed her steps to a leisurely pace as she neared the next corner, peering out as she saw what was going on, careful not to reveal herself prematurely. Hilda, Justin, Blaine, Florence, and Alfendi were standing outside the Mystery Room, with the three Detective Inspectors standing in front of the Mystery Room as though they were guarding it. Lucy's breath hitched at the sight of Alfendi—he was wearing a sleek form-fitting navy suit, the top two buttons of his white button-up undone to reveal his throat and a patch of skin. Alfendi seems to have cleaned himself up, a clean shave and his long red hair in a neat low ponytail. He looked positively radiant in comparison to how she had seen him before—horribly sunken features of withdrawal and wearing ill fitting clothes on his person—not that she had been necessarily opposed at seeing him in that state per se, but this...he looked like he belonged here, demanding the attention of all that came his way. His Scotland Yard badge was clipped on his belt and as he shifted his jacket, she could see it shine under the fluorescent lights.
Florence stood besides Alfendi, holding onto her IV pole tightly to the point where her knuckles seemed to be turning white. Even from this angle, the Detective Constable could see how Florence's jaw was clenched, equally as frustrated at the trio like the recovering drug addict next to her.
"That's a low blow, Blaine." Florence said, then hacked a nasty cough. "You know it's his office," a sneeze, "and he wasn't disturbing any of you."
"Flo, you know how—" Blaine tried to say, then Hilda raised a manicured hand, effectively shutting the blond Detective Inspector up. He adjusted his white frames, frowning.
"Look, we're just surprised that you're back so...soon. I'm glad to see that you're well, Al, but—"
"Spare me the pleasantries, Hilda," Alfendi cut the blonde woman off with growl. Hilda clammed up immediately. "We all know you aren't glad to see me; you'd rather wish I was gone and out of your overly cared for hair, I'm sure. God, it's all rushing back to me at just how ridiculous you troglodytes are. Now let me go into my damn office. I might as well pick up the slack if this is the Yard's finest until Lucy arrives. She did tell me how late she gets sometimes; I'd be late too if I had to associate myself with you lot for long periods."
Alfendi attempted to push past Justin, who made no effort of moving. Alfendi scowled as Hilda clenched her hands into fists, partially trembling.
"Damn it, Al! You're still the cynical arsehole I remember! Always thinking of yourself and tossing those insults like you're above it all!" Hilda crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing to slits. Alfendi flicked his eyes up and down her figure then his lips upturned to a smirk that bordered on sadistic. Lucy's brows furrowed.
"I may be above you all, as you so eloquently put it, but you're the one opting to be on the floor. I'd wager that you're still sleeping with Justin, going by the state of your knees. Of course, two dimwits getting together, that's no surprise," Alfendi rolled his eyes as Hilda and Justin both blushed profusely, sputtering at the insinuation the man made in an effort to deny it. Florence's eyebrows raised; Blaine could only stare, unable to find any witty rejoinder against Alfendi's ruthless verbal assault. "Unless of course, you're just cleaning his floors. That would be nice of you, hm? He has kept you company while I've been away."
"Keep talking and I'll shoot bullets into your kneecaps, Al!" Justin growled, practically ready to strangle him by the way he rolled up his jacket's sleeves further. "Or maybe I should shoot a bullet in your that head of yours and see what's in it, since you think you're all high and mighty as per usual."
"Oh, is that a threat? How droll of you, Justin. I'm almost inclined to take you up on that, truly. You're lucky that I'm on my best behaviour for Lucy because I—"
"Ee, what's going on 'ere? Prof, is that you?" Lucy chose this moment to finally say something, effectively halting any words that would have tumbled out of Alfendi's mouth. Five heads turned to her direction, each with different comically amusing expressions that ranged from pleasantly surprised to just plain shocked. In any other situation, Lucy would have laughed but instead she smiled sheepishly, preening under the sudden attention. She adjusted her trusty orange cap anxiously in a valiant attempt to keep her hands from fidgeting. When nobody spoke, she added on, "Er, I thought you said that your release date was on the 23rd?"
"Well, I couldn't miss your birthday, now could I? My doctor found it acceptable to let me go three days early from my improvements. Thanks to you, my dear." Alfendi grinned back at her as though they were the only two in the hall. The comical expressions on the three Detective Inspectors seemed to increase in their incredulity at the development—Lucy knew Alfendi. It wasn't him spouting nonsense, he truly did. Florence, on the other hand, only smirked knowingly at Lucy with her upturned thin lip. All the animosity that dragged Alfendi's features disappeared, leaving only a soft expression that melted her heart. It was the same expression he had donned back when she first promised that she wouldn't give up on him. It quickly fell as he glared back towards the three guards that blocked his way.
"If these simpletons could let me go back into the Mystery Room, I have a surprise for you." Alfendi added.
"Lucy, pray tell, how are you associated with this fool?" Blaine asked, breaking the silence between the three Detective Inspectors. Alfendi's scowl returned, deepening, but he allowed Lucy to take the floor. It was up to her on how she wanted to describe their association with one another, five pairs of eyes looking to her expectantly.
"Er...I've been writing letters to 'im while 'e's been in rehab," Lucy responded with a shrug, not really sure at what the whole deal was. They, except for Florence, all looked like Alfendi's comeback was the return of something incorrigible. "Been so since September of last year. Summat wrong wit' that?"
If her friendliness with Alfendi was one thing, apparently tolerating him since September was a feat on it's own by the way Justin and Blaine's jaw practically dropped to the floor. Hilda only gave the slightest indicator by the means of her hand going onto her right hip, her lips downturned to a frown.
"Since September? Is that why you asked about him then?" Hilda filled in the blanks for the other two, recognition glimmering in her eyes.
"Aye, that's right. Now, if you don't mind, it's my birthday and I want nowt to ruin it." Lucy, in a surge of bravery, strode forward and gave a peck on Alfendi's cheek. It was Alfendi's turn to look surprised, cheeks turning to a furious red that rivaled his own hair. Lucy took it a step further, clasping her hand in his and intertwined their fingers, rough and slender hands meeting soft and small ones. "My boyfriend and I have lots to discuss since he's finally returned and I'd appreciate it if you lot left us to catch up."
The silence that permeated the hallway screamed louder than any other shout that either party could express after the declaration. Alfendi squeezed her soft hand, in a question, as if he was asking: Really? Lucy squeezed back, hoping that it was enough to answer the unspoken question.
"Your boyfriend?" Blaine exclaimed, spluttering as he tried to wrap his head around the concept. He took off his white frames, wiping them with a microfiber cloth he produced from his jacket pocket idly, as though it would bring him clarity in regards to the entire situation. "You...him...but...but...what? You've only known him for a few months!"
"Stop being so obtuse, Bratwright. It suits you normally, but it's useless right now," Alfendi scoffed, regaining himself. "Must you always repeat what everyone says? Is it too hard for you to understand that I am in an amorous relationship?"
"Now you listen here, Layton—"
"You all heard her," Florence spoke up, cutting off Blaine without prompt. "We can all ask our questions later—we should all go. Preferably before the Commissioner catches wind of our socializing. We're all—" another sneeze, "—on the clock."
The trio glanced at each other, realizing that they've been beaten without Lucy even uttering any sort of insult or physically getting violent. Rather than attempting to upset the young woman or her beau any further, they shuffled out and away from the Mystery Room door with hushed whispers shared between the three of them. When they were out of earshot, Florence turned to the two.
"I'll leave you two to it. Meet me at the lab when you finish up." Florence sniffed, shuffling towards to the Forensics labs. Alfendi turned to Lucy, an aloof smile gracing his features once more. It was so infectious that Lucy smiled as well.
"I forgot how simple they all are," Alfendi finally said with a wistful shake of his head. "How did you ever manage?"
"Give them some credit, they didn't know." Lucy said, laughing. Alfendi easily joined with a chuckle, peering down at their joined hands. Lucy followed his gaze, then glanced back up to him. His olive eyes were bright with meaning, unasked questions bubbling within him that he seemed unsure of.
"Well, neither did I, my dear." He opts to say instead.
"You said you 'ad a surprise for me, Prof?" She smiled softly and he lit up like a Christmas tree, nodding.
"It's nothing much in comparison to the surprise you offered me," he says as he opens the door, revealing the messy neatness of the Mystery Room in its glory that she had been used to for the past several months. Nights of subpar coffees and cuppas, along with take-out from the nearby bakery that Lucy could dash to before they closed. All of that led to this.
A ridiculous amount of sweets from Jenny's bakery, along with a couple of gifts that seemed to be hastily wrapped occupied the arm chairs and desk. It was like when she found the small gift he had given to her for Christmas, which had been an emerald jumper that was shockingly in her size—which later she had learned had been a mere guess. He strode forward as he reclaimed his space with Lucy in tow. It almost felt like deja-vu, with the way this seemed to emulate her visit just a few months prior but in a much more familiar setting.
It all felt way too fast.
Even as she waited for this day for the past two months, there was a sense of surrealism when she felt the warmth emanate from his hand intertwined against hers—he was really here. Lucy chewed her lip.
"Ee, do you mind if I make tea? Two sugars and a dash of milk, aye?" She asked and Alfendi glanced at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Ah, the British cure-all for any and all ailments. I suppose it wouldn't be as bad as the tasteless nonsense at the center." Alfendi mused and Lucy let go of his hand, opting to lightly slap him on the arm.
"Aye, aye, that might be true, but we have too many sweets. We'll need somethin' to wash it down, aye?" Alfendi merely hummed and Lucy took that as her cue to leave, stepping out and into the corridor. As she stepped closer to the break room, she was once again, privy to a conversation that was about her. She lingered by the door, listening as someone worked the kettle and was making a cuppa.
"...she's mad. Absolutely mad." Blaine said and Lucy could practically hear the buzzing in his voice—the poor Inspector was probably on his third cup of coffee, needing a pick-me-up after that scene in the hallway. "Barton called me in earlier, you know? Apparently, she'll be learning under him, effective immediately."
"And he said nothing of their...relationship?" Hilda's voice rang through, her clipped, clinical tone clear as day. Lucy grimaced.
"Bloody hell, he's aware of it alright," Blaine responded. "She, apparently, is the reason why he got sober."
"Christ, that's a lot of faith for that wallflower to be the only reason why he's not shooting up." Justin remarked, slamming his hand on one of the wooden tables of the break room and Lucy narrowed her eyes. Wallflower? "Perhaps they're not actually dating and she's just his keeper. There's people like that out there, yeah?"
A beat of silence passed—Lucy almost grabbed ahold of the door handle when Hilda's voice cut through the silence once more.
"It's unlikely. You saw the way she looked at him—she really does love Al," Hilda sighed wearily, almost in a resigned manner of a former lover. "It's unlikely we'd ever be able to try to steer her away from it if she's so ingrained with him."
"So she'd just have to learn for herself what that man is like? Placid was one thing, but he's supposed to be sober now. Which means Layton in full force, no filters. Nothing to keep her from his verbal assault, like the one in the hallway. We all bloody well know what that means." Lucy could practically see the seething expression on Blaine's face, akin to when she'd solve something before he could.
"Do we really, Blaine? Their correspondence is too long for her to have any misgivings on her status with him." Hilda murmured.
"Oi, which side are you on?" Justin barked.
"Nobody's. You know I stopped seeing Al after he started shooting up. It's not—"
Lucy chose this moment to step in. If she was going to hear any of this, she wasn't going to hear it through a mahogany door nor through a secondary source that wasn't Alfendi. Lucy had the grace to look bashful, as she asked, "Did I interrupt? Sorry, I just wanted to get the Prof a cuppa."
"Er, no, Lucy, you didn't." Blaine responded, sipping his cup of coffee to keep his mouth shut. Lucy strode over to where Hilda stood and went through the motions of filling the cuppa without much of another word. Even without glancing behind her, she could feel the sets of eyes boring eyes into her back; unanswered questions and demands seeping through the cracks of the wall.
"What do you see in him, Lucy?" Blaine spoke, to which Lucy turned around and just as she had suspected, three pairs of eyes stared at her with confusion that she thought she had seen with suspects that feigned innocence.
"A lotta things, really." Lucy smiled slyly. None of them seemed convinced.
"You surely know he's dangerous, yes?" Hilda asked, crossing her arms. "He threatens—"
"Of course I do!" Lucy cut in, blood boiling like the kettle. Blaine raised his eyebrows. Nobody, not even Blaine, had ever seen Lucy snap like that. "Do you know what I know, Hilda?"
When Hilda gave a minute nod, Lucy blazed on.
"I know he's fresh out of rehab, still believing that he can go sober permanently this time—which he can. I know he can. I know he threatens people with cutting their tongues. I know he finds interest in murders and thinks suspects are deluded fools, as he says. I don't...I 'old no delusions, really. I've been around an alcoholic, this is no different. It's an addiction, summat that takes time to cure with the right amount of support and trust." Lucy huffed, looking back to the box of PG tips. "Summat you lot didn't see or do for him when he was strugglin'. Don't you wonder why he did drugs in the first place?"
"And what, pray tell, did he tell you?" Hilda asked, her expression remaining as stoic as it always was. Justin leaned back against his chair; Blaine just drank his coffee in silence.
"It's not my place to tell you anything he's told me. And if you're gonna give me some rubbish tale about what he was like back then, I don't want to hear it." She finished up the cuppas and picked them up. "I want to hear it from 'im, you hear me?"
Lucy did not grace them an answer and walked past them, knowing fully well they did. If Alfendi wanted her, she was willing to be that support, no matter what. His past was not hers to behold, rather it was his future that she wanted to share with him, if he was amendable to it. Lucy pushed open the Mystery Room and smiled at the sight of Alfendi leaning into the Reconstruction Machine, as though he owned the space. He didn't look up until she placed the cuppa on the desk, a smile playing on her features.
This is exactly where she wanted to be.
