A/N: I was getting some questions on whether I have abandoned this story, and the answer is obviously that no, I have not. I just forgot to write this chapter for a little while. But it's finally here, just before Locktober ends. Sorry it's kind of short!

Lockwood stared. Lucy stared. I stared. The only one who wasn't dumbfounded was Holly, who of course had already known of this shocking development.

Kipps sighed. "This is painstaking enough without you lot gaping at me like I'm some creature in a zoo." His eyes rested on Lucy with some surprise. "But I must say, I'm glad to see that you've rejoined. I figured you couldn't keep away from Lockwood for long."

She started. "No, no, you-"

"Are absolutely right," I interrupted. "But it doesn't matter. You can't join Lockwood & Co., for two very good reasons. One, we aren't hiring right now. Two, you're twenty-two. You're an adult, and therefore psychically deaf and blind. We have no use for you."

Lockwood nodded. "I'm afraid George is right. We don't take supervisors."

Kipps just silently stared for a long moment, then shook his head in a defeated manner and began to get up. "I figured it was a long shot, but worth a go anyway."

"Wait!" That was Holly, pushing him gently back into a sitting position. She turned to face Lockwood and me, her gaze imploring. "Give him a chance." She looked at Kipps. "Quill, you should tell them why it is you need to join."

"Fine. I'll humiliate myself further for their amusement, just to be rejected. No, Holly, I'm quite sure it's no use."

She glared at him. "All right then, if that's how it is." She turned and met Lockwood's gaze, her eyes blazing. "You can't just leave him. He's been fired by Fittes. He has nowhere else to go, and if he did, do you think he'd have come here? Even with all the resentment he has for you? Surely you can tell he's desperate."

Lockwood blinked and turned to Kipps. "Why were you fired?"

"Because Penelope Fittes is absolutely corrupt," he snarled, his expression twisting into one of fury. "She's been threatening and taking over small agencies, and trying to bribe agents and supervisors from larger ones to join Fittes. She's been secretive about it, too- so far, only the agencies affected and, of course, the Fittes agency, knows about it. And no one will speak out. They're too scared of her."

I pushed my glasses up my nose. "So what's that got to do with you?"

"Because, Cubbins, I tried to ask questions. I tried to find out what was going on, and I tried to speak out. The instant I wasn't following her like a mindless sheep, she tossed me away." His green eyes burned with betrayal and hate.

Lockwood had been listening with an unreadable expression. "Okay, but if you need a new job, why'd you come to the only agency in London that won't accept supervisors?"

Kipps seemed to deflate a little. "Well, I hate to say it, Tony, but your agency is the only one that's safe. Everyone else, I know, will bow to Fittes if they have to, and the time will come when they will have to. Yours is the only one that will refuse to bend the knee. Because as reluctant as I am to compliment you, I suppose I have to hand it to you: you lot are stubborn beyond all self-preservation. And somehow, you seem to be competent at staying alive."

"Be that as it may," Lockwood conceded, "we still won't tolerate a supervisor. And you no longer have Talent. What do you suppose we would pay you for?"

Holly jumped in. "He doesn't have to be an agent," she pointed out. "You forget; I'm an adult too. My Talent is fading. But I can still work as a secretary and assistant. And maybe Quill can help with that, too?" She gazed at us pleadingly. "You can't simply turn him away."

"This is a bad idea," I interjected. "When have we been able to trust Kipps? I can count on one hand, if that hand was lopped off. I don't want him lurking around our house all day."

Holly's eyes suddenly bore into mine furiously. "Then listen here, George. If you abandon him when he needs help, I will quit. If he goes, I go. That's the way it is. Do you really want your agency down to only two people? We're struggling enough without Lucy."

All at once everyone was silent, stunned by Holly's fierce anger and her threat.

After a moment, Lockwood coughed lightly. "Well, we won't need that to happen, because George isn't making the decision. Frankly, I don't have the heart to know what he's gone through and refuse to help. And, George, if he were trying to pull some sort of trick I severely doubt he'd go to this length to do so. He's too proud and you know it. So," he switched his attention to Kipps. "Welcome to Lockwood & Co., I suppose. If you like, you can help Holly with her assistant duties and taking calls. But, to be honest, I doubt that it'll be enough to count as a real job. If you'd really like something to do," he grinned brightly then, which seemed to make Kipps sufficiently nervous, "We'd love to have a gardener."

"Well, okay then," he conceded. "One question: isn't it late fall, or have every one of my senses been deceiving me? What do you need a gardener for?"

"Honestly, Kipps, I'd have thought you'd know. Before winter, the lawn needs maintenance. It must be mowed, the weeds pulled, the apples picked, all that. Shouldn't be too difficult. And if it isn't too much trouble, we wouldn't mind having some indoor plants either. Y'know, just to brighten up the place."

He eyed him skeptically. "You make it sound simple . . which must mean I'm going to regret every choice that led up to this one once I see that lawn of yours, doesn't it?"

"Don't you trust me? Go have a look for yourself."

Kipps promptly rose from the couch and made his way to the back door. There was a brief silence before a high-pitched, appalled cry rang out. "Have you ever mowed out there?!"

[LUCY'S POV]

Night was beginning to fall. Kipps had struggled with the lawnmower for about a half hour with minimal progress, owing to the sheer thickness of the grass. He'd gone home by now, and so had Holly. George was in his room, most likely sleeping, but I couldn't. My mind was alive with too many scattered thoughts.

So I made my way downstairs into the library. I was unsurprised to see that the light was on and Lockwood was reclined on the sofa with an old thriller book. It was one of those well-worn ones that he reread until they fell apart, more for nostalgia than for the story.

He looked up and gave me a smile; my heart seemed to warm. "Hello, Lucy. Couldn't sleep?"

"Just another one of those nights, I guess."

"I understand that. Here, come sit." He patted the cushion next to him invitingly, and I wordlessly obliged. As much as I enjoyed his company, my mind started reeling as soon as I sat close to him. I remembered George's words. How could I not? They were seared into my mind. Lockwood? In love with me? In hindsight, it did explain a few things. And I did feel rather oblivious for not having read into it at all until now. But it still left me shocked; the notion that someone like him was interested in me that way was foreign to me.

"Luce? You all right?" The way his dark eyes watched me; the way his voice went soft when he spoke to me. The way he noticed so quickly that something was amiss, when anyone else wouldn't see it. Yes, it really was obvious.

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

His expression remained unmistakably sweet. I could almost feel the affection radiating off of him. Maybe it had been obvious before, but it hadn't been this noticeable; of that I was sure. He smiled again. "What's on your mind?"

"What? Oh- nothing important. It's just nice to be back at Portland Row, that's all." I was lying, of course, but he seemed to buy it.

"I love having you here, too. I missed you, you know."

Those words sent my mind down an entirely different path. "Yeah, George told me that. Lockwood, are you okay? Be honest with me."

He blinked, seeming genuinely confused. "Pardon?"

"Don't play dumb. I know you've been suicidal lately." The term stung me. Not only had he been driven to that point, but it was my fault, even though I'd believed so fully I was saving him. Little did I know, I could've sent him to a self-inflicted death.

He dropped my gaze, his dark eyes unreadable. He was deep in thought, as if trying to make a decision. Finally he let out a sigh and met my eyes again. "Lucy, there's something I need to tell you."

All at once, nervousness and anticipation began fizzing in my stomach and burning in my head. "What's that?"

He gave a slow sigh, as if whatever he was holding back was difficult for him to say. "Well, it's just . . . what George told you wasn't entirely true."

That had not been what I'd expected. I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not suicidal, Lucy. I never was. It would be a lie to say I was unaffected when you left, but it wasn't as bad as that. But to answer your question fully, was I okay? No. I don't think I'd go that far. But I wasn't about to throw myself into the Thames. I mean," his eyes sparkled, "unless I was escaping from a psycho at an auction."

I laughed lightly, but without much humor. "Why would George exaggerate it so much? He really scared me. I was really, really worried about you."

"Well, he-" Suddenly he cut himself off and his eyes left mine. "Who knows why George does anything, honestly?" He still didn't look up as he added quietly, "Although, your worrying wasn't entirely unwarranted."

I was silent for a moment, and we both stared at the carpet. I finally asked, "So, you know when we were in the rapier room, right before Holly came in? Wh-"

"I'm rather tired," he interrupted, standing quickly. His cheeks were colored. "How long did you say you were staying again?"

"I'm only planning on tomorrow and the day after."

His face fell a little, but he gave a half smile. "What happens if you want to stay longer?"

I hesitated. "I've only packed enough for two days. Besides, I have to get back to work after that."

"I understand," he told me quietly. "I won't ask you to rejoin us, even though I'd like to. Just know you always have a home here at Portland Row. And you have loving friends here. You're always welcome, for any reason. I hope you know that."

I smiled. "Thanks, Lockwood. This is the first place I'd go if I was unable to live at my apartment in Tooting." The words escaped me unbidden, and I realized they were true. As much as I still hoped to protect him from me, he was the one I'd come running to if something went wrong.

His expression got warmer. "I'm glad to know that."

"So . . you said that what George told me was untrue. Were you referring to all of what he said, or just the bit about you being suicidal?"

His expression was unreadable for a moment, his dark eyes gently scanning mine. "Well, I don't know, Luce. What all did he tell you?"