Upstairs they found George, Kipps and Barnes sitting at the kitchen table while Holly bustled around making tea.
Barnes was frowning at the table cloth and Lucy was grateful they had recently replaced the previous one, which bore a rather unflattering illustration of the Inspector courtesy of a grumpy Lockwood.
Holly and Lucy sat down on the remaining chairs while Lockwood leaned against the counter, his arms folded.
"Morning, Inspector. Always a pleasure,'' he said. It wasn't entirely a lie. As grouchy as Barnes could be, Lucy reckoned he had a bit of a soft spot for them - one he buried very, very deep down. Lockwood wasn't entirely convinced though, given the amount of red tape Barnes frequently made them wade through.
Barnes grunted in response. Lucy eyed Kipps, who was looking nervous.
"Alright, Kipps?'' She asked, raising an eyebrow. He nodded back and gave her a small smile, which, given Kipps' general lack of emotion, could either mean 'everything is great, spectacular, thanks for asking Lucy!' Or 'I didn't get the job and am about to throw myself into the Thames!'.
Barnes rolled his eyes.
"Mr Kipps didn't entirely disgrace himself. I imagine an offer will be on its way once DEPRAC completes the usual employment checks.''
Lucy thought she saw Kipps relax a little in his chair.
"So what brings you here, Inspector? Not that we aren't happy to see you, of course,'' Holly asked politely.
"Humph. Well, believe it or not, I actually need your help on a case.''
Lockwood leaned forward in anticipation, while George and Lucy exchanged surprised glances. Barnes hadn't contacted them about a case in nearly six months. Between the Problem slowly decreasing and Lockwood Co being the first port of call for the public now, he generally left them to their own devices and made use of the many former Fittes agents at his disposal instead.
"Go on,'' Lockwood said eagerly.
"We're getting reports of something strange going on in a village called Blakely, about half an hour north of London,'' Barnes replied. "Visitors activity has ramped up significantly in the past month, for no obvious reason. Three people have been killed, two others ghost-locked. People are starting to panic.''
Barnes' usual frowned deepened, and Lucy could see why. If what he said was true, it flew in the face of every trend they had seen since they had brought down Marissa and the Orpheus Society. Now that people weren't making dangerous trips to the other side and riling up the undead, Visitor activity had slowed right around the country. Except, it appeared, in the village of Blakely.
"I take it you want us to go and check it out?'' George asked, drumming his stubby fingers against the table. Lucy could practically see his brain working at a million miles an hour, coming up with theories and thinking about the research he would need to do. Mentally, he was probably already at the archives.
Barnes nodded. "The sooner the better. Tomorrow, ideally. We need to find out what the hell is going on up there before it spreads anywhere else.''
"Of course,'' Lockwood said. "We'll take the first train up in the morning.''
Lucy could see the excitement burning in his eyes. This was something new, interesting, and quite possibly, incredibly dangerous. In other words, Lockwood's ideal case.
"Thought you'd be keen. I'll get some train tickets and accommodation details sent over this afternoon.''
Barnes stood up and glanced around the table, frowning at George who still had toast crumbs stuck to his chin.
"Try not to blow anything up this time, if you can manage it.''
With that he gave them a curt nod and disappeared into the hall.
"Well this sounds promising, I'd like a holiday,'' Lockwood said, taking Barnes' vacated seat as the front door closed.
"I think you and I have very different ideas about what constitutes a holiday,'' Holly replied.
The team splintered off for much of the rest of the day as they made their preparations.
Kipps went home to pack, figuring he may as well join them while he waited to hear back from DEPRAC. Holly did the same, via a trip to Mullet's to restock our supplies.
George disappeared to the archives as expected. That left Lucy and Lockwood alone at Portland Row.
Lucy spent the morning up in her attic room, packing her things, while Lockwood worked out down in the basement.
When she had tossed her last holey jumper into her bulging rucksack, she carried it downstairs. She could hear the shower running, and figured Lockwood had finished his training session.
As tempting as it was to join him, she dropped her bag outside his bedroom and went inside instead. It was a beautiful summer's day outside, and light was streaming into the room. She curled up in a patch of sun on his navy blue duvet, which was now almost as familiar as her own.
They had talked, once or twice, about simply sharing one room, but Lucy had held out. As much as she cared about him, she still liked having her own space. Between sharing a house and working cases together, they spent nearly every minute of the day with each other any way. And after all, it wasn't exactly a huge inconvenience to walk up or down the stairs from the attic if they wanted to see each other.
Lucy must have been more tired than she'd realised, because suddenly she was being gently shaken awake. Lockwood was grinning down at her, dressed in a half unbuttoned white shirt and a pair of black trousers. His hair was still damp from the shower.
"Comfy?'' He asked, stretching out on the bed beside her.
"Mmm,'' she smiled and closed her eyes again, soaking in the sun's warmth like a cat.
Lockwood reached over and pulled her against him, so her head was resting on his chest. He kissed the top of her head lightly.
"So, the village of Blakely. Any theories?''
"Is it bad that I'm hoping there's been some series of traumatic sudden deaths there in the last couple of months?'' Lucy replied. "Because the alternative….''
"Is that somebody is somehow venturing where they shouldn't,'' Lockwood finished grimly.