Work Text:
As Lockwood left his office, he pulled at his tie in an attempt to give himself more room to breathe. That had to have been the single worst workday of his career. It should have been an easy summer day. He’d just handed off a majority of his workload to a summer intern, Holly had cleared his calendar and Kipps was actually being friendly for a change. When he’d walked in the morning, Lockwood had already decided that barring any critical meetings, he would duck at after lunch, maybe get to the fencing club for a round or two, and then meet Jocelyn for drinks.
All of those plans had gone out the window at 11:45 am when he’d gotten an email from Rupert Gale at the Fittes Group. Their subsidiary, Orpheus Inc., had been surprised that morning by agents from Scotland Yard. Gale’s email was filled with questions, concerns, and action items that he demanded be responded to or completed by the end of business. Lockwood had called Kipps in to help him handle the sheer number of requests. They had been working on the situation diligently for hours when Orpheus called Holly to request a meeting. She’d set up a video conference for thirty minutes later. The call had gone for three hours. Lockwood had been close to snapping as he re-explained the process and procedure to the myopic old in the frame for the fourth time. His laptop pinged with a new chat. Barnes was asking for an update on the situation so he could report to the CEO. Apparently, Penelope Fittes had called the absentee executive personally to demand swifter action. At some point during the meeting, Lockwood had found the time to text Jocelyn to cancel and apologize. She’d responded soon after asking him to lose her number and that he was a repressed workaholic that wouldn’t know a good fuck if it licked his balls.
He stumbled onto the tube only half away of his surroundings. Lockwood’s mind was running through his day again like a sportscaster performing a postmortem on Arsenal. His personal phone buzzed in his pocket. Lockwood glanced at his watch. It was nearly 9 pm. Maybe George was checking in to make sure he hadn’t jumped off a bridge. As the train pulled to a stop at a station, Lockwood withdrew the device and stepped back into a neat corner that allowed him to slouch against the windows.
Private Number - Aldwych Station
Lockwood grinned. That was just what he needed.
**
He probably should have gone home and changed, but Lockwood didn’t care if he ruined the suit he was wearing. He never wanted to wear this suit again. There were others in his wardrobe, and he’d never liked the pinstripe. When he turned a corner, he could see a group ahead of him slipping through the steal security door that was normally locked. A full house then. Good. That meant more opportunities to get the anger out of his system.
Lockwood looked both ways as he too reached the door. The street was empty other than a group of girls laughing loudly at the opposite corner.
A burly man with tattoos on every bit of his arms stood guard over the staircase that led down the platform. Lockwood pulled a crisp twenty-pound note from his pocket and passed it to the man.
“May fortune favour you tonight.” The man nodded his head as Lockwood walked by.
“I make my own fortune,” Lockwood mumbled as he descended. The smell of sweat and blood hit him. The roar of a crowd grew as the platform and tunnel came into view.
At the center of the platform, two people circled each other with raised hands. One’s hands were wrapped with bandages already stained red.
“Get um!” “Fight!” “Pussies!”
Lockwood found a good spot halfway down the stairs to watch. The wrapped fighter was good. He looked vaguely familiar, but Lockwood couldn’t be certain. The last time he’d been to one of these events, Lockwood had ended with a concussion that George had nearly taken him to A&E over.
The other fighter dove forward, targeting the wrapped man’s knees. The wrapped man sidestepped and placed a kick squarely in his opponent’s back sending the fighter into the floor. The crowd jeered. The other fighter didn’t move to get up. The wrapped man walked forward and placed a knee into his prone opponent’s spine. The crowd roared in approval then quieted as they waited for the fighter to tap out.
When it came, the noise reverberated in the silent space. A breath passed before the crowd cheered and booed. Lockwood watched the people standing in front of him exchange money.
“Well, that one was just a shame, wasn’t it?” the MC’s voice boomed. Lockwood grinned as he spotted Flo. His oldest friend looked in her element as she showboated for London’s underbelly.
“For those of you just joining us, welcome. We don’t have many rules down here. Well really, we have four rules. Rule 1: Don’t talk about what happens here with anyone. Rule 2: The fight ends when one combatant passes out, taps out, or says stop the fight is over. Rule 3: Two people at a time, one fight at a time. Rule 4: If it's your first time, step in the ring. Now who wants to step into the ring next?”
The crowd went silent as everyone looked at each other waiting for two people to step forward. The first to enter the makeshift ring was a smaller person, in a blue top and black shorts and leggings. Lockwood leaned forward to get a better look. He hadn’t seen them around before. Their boots would likely prove to be an asset in a few minutes. A large man stepped forward as well. He was heckling the other combatant.
“Should I get a step stool for you?” The one in blue cracked their knuckles and checked their shoes. The man laughed at them.
“Fight!” Flo yelled starting the bout. The man started in such a stereotypical fashion. He stepped forward, his arm swinging out for a haymaker. The person in blue ducked under the swing. As they passed, Lockwood could just make out the vicious uppercut blue delivered to the man’s armpit. The man howled in pain as his other arm shot out for another punch. Blue was already out of range, sliding around the man. They kicked as they stepped around the man. The pop of the joint was loud enough to silence the murmurs of the onlookers. Another howl of pain. The man fell to his knee with a groan.
Blue danced back giving the man time to recover. A dumb move in Lockwood’s opinion. It was better to finish the person off than allow them to continue to fight injured.
“Fucking arsehole.” The man’s roar echoed off the tunnel walls. Blue bounced on their heels waiting for the man to storm over. He was limping in Lockwood’s personal opinion, but such things tended to happen when your legs were injured.
This time Blue waited until the man was close enough. Their back leg swung out and up in an arc that Lockwood had seen coming. The boot, Lockwood wondered if they were steel-toed, connected the man’s jaw. His head snapped back at the force of the blow. Damn Blue was flexible. Their upper body was parallel with the floor as they were almost in a vertical split when the kick finished.
Their opponent fell backward and put his hands out to catch his fall. Lockwood tsked quietly. Rookie mistake. The crowd watched in awe as the larger man landed on his hands. A wrist caved with a truly gut-turning snap. He felt back, smacking his head into the concrete platform.
Flo walked over to the man, kicking him lightly with her own heavy booted foot. “Out.”
The crowd roared. A redhead stepped into the ring and hugged Blue. Lockwood made his way through the crowd toward the ring. As he walked, he worked on the buttons of his work shirt. It was his turn to hit something.
Flo motioned for everyone to quiet down. “That was over faster than expected. Let’s hear it for our new friend Loo.”
Another cheer. “Next fight. Who wants in the ring?”
Lockwood stepped forward. “I’m down Flo!”
He slid his signet ring off, depositing it in the inner pocket on his coat and handed both the coat and his button-up to Flo. He kicked his shoes off at the edge of the ring and went to a knee to roll the legs up. A murmur ran through the group as he stepped into the ring.
“Tony?” Lockwood whirled around. Why the hell was Kipps here of all people?
“Is anyone willing to challenge the legend himself? Tony hasn’t been beaten since he joined our little circle.” Flo was baiting the crowd. Lockwood cringed at the use of Tony, but it's not like they ever shared names with each other. Some of the regulars had nicknames, but it was supposed to be anonymous.
The fighter in blue pushed their red-headed friend into the ring. Now that he was closer, Lockwood realized they were both female. The redhead shook her head and tried desperately to melt back into the crowd. A tall man with dark hair stepped forward.
“Kipps says I can take you,” the man offered. Lockwood grinned cracking his neck.
“Kipps hasn’t seen me fight like this before,” Lockwood offered. He had faced off with Kipps on piste, but never with fists. He was honestly surprised that Kipps wasn’t entering the ring himself after the day they’d had. Maybe he should suggest such a stress reliever if the opportunity presented itself in the future.
“Ready gentlemen?” Flo looked between Lockwood and the other man. Lockwood nodded, raising his hands into a guard. He left them open though, allowing the muscles in his shoulders to relax. The other man raised his fists as well, clenched like a boxer.
Lockwood’s focus narrowed to the man as he waited for Flo.
“FIGHT!”
The man was faster than Lockwood expected given his bulk. Lockwood was faster though. He slid around the man before he was in range for an attack. The man nearly ran out of the circle, sliding to a stop as onlookers stepped back. Lockwood grinned at the man and waited for him again. The man moved slower this time. Lockwood slid forward into range and lashed out with a jab aimed at the man’s exposed ribs. The man blocked the blow and countered with a hook of his own. Too slow, Lockwood thought. He ducked under the man’s arm and delivered an uppercut to the man’s gut as he moved by.
“Fuck.” The man wheezed. Lockwood twisted on the balls of his feet, following the uppercut up with a swift strike to the man’s kidneys.
The crowd cheered as he swung around and stepped back. His knuckles ached from the impact. Fuck did it feel amazing.
The man staggered for a step before righting himself. He was leaning to one side now protecting the areas already hit.
“Think you can still take me?” Lockwood taunted as they circled one another looking for another opening. The man’s face turned red, and he lunged at Lockwood. Lockwood danced away from the man, a foot knocking gently into his opponent’s ankle just to remind him that Lockwood had the upper hand.
“Come on!” “End it already ready!” “Give us a show!”
The man whirled around, an uncontrolled haymaker flying. He was finally fast enough to land a hit. His fist connected with Lockwood’s shoulder. Pain blossomed through the joint. Kipps must have told this asshole about his old injury. Dick move. Lockwood gritted his teeth and raised his other arm to block as the man tried to follow up the haymaker with a jab to Lockwood’s chest. As their arms connected, Lockwood twisted his forearm and reached for the man’s neck. Long fingers wrapped around tender flesh as Lockwood savagely pulled the man into his knee.
The crowd cheered as the air rushed out of the man. He fell to his knees, eyes squeezed closed. Lockwood sprang away from the man as he made a grab for Lockwood’s knees.
“Stop playing with your food, Tony!” Lockwood’s head whipped around to see Kipps’s smug smirk in the crowd. Lockwood flipped the older man off. A fist connected with his jaw at the same time. That was going to be fun to explain on Monday.
Lockwood blinked as the man readied for another strike. Fuck that. Lockwood lashed out with a kick to the man’s abdomen, putting just enough space between them for Lockwood to return the jaw punch. The man stumbled and fell back. Lockwood went after him, straddling the man and delivering another hit to the man’s face. Once he’d gotten his one pot shot in, Lockwood moved quickly to put the man in an arm bar, one long leg draped over the man’s throat for good measure.
He pulled. The man howled in pain, but neither said the magic word nor tapped. He struggled against Lockwood’s lock, fingers of his free arm clawing at Lockwood’s calves. Lockwood pulled harder. He knew how much pressure it took to dislocate an elbow. They were on the cusp of it right now.
“Tap!” Lockwood yelled over the roaring crowd. The man continued to claw. All right then. Lockwood pressed his leg against the man’s throat.
“Tap!” Lockwood repeated pulsing the pressure on the man’s arm. The man screamed. Lockwood felt three quick taps on his calf.
He released the man’s arm and rolled away. As he stood, Flo was by his side to hand back his clothing.
“Well done, Locky. Tough day?”
Lockwood rolled his eyes as he slid his shoes back on.
Flo had already turned back to the crowd and was calling for the next combatants. Blue pushed her redheaded friend into the ring. Kipps stepped in as well.
“Thanks for not breaking Shaw’s arm,” Kipps grumbled as he walked past Lockwood.
“Good luck.” Lockwood rubbed his jaw as he walked past. He hoped that the redhead would give Kipps a black eye so he could see it on Monday.
He was back out on the street before he realized someone was following him. Blue was walking a few steps behind him in an oversized white and blue sweater.
“Hey?” He turned to find her a few steps away. “Leaving already? I was hoping for a chance to take on the champ.”
“Not interested.”
“You’re too nice. You had that tosser beat within the first five minutes.” Lockwood grit his teeth. She was trying to goad him back into the ring. He knew he should just walk away, but that little voice in the back of his mind just wouldn’t let him.
“There's nothing wrong with fighting like a gentleman. Not that you would know anything about that. I saw that armpit shot.”
“I do what I have to. Winning the fight is all that matters.” She sounded defensive now. Good, he liked having his opponents off guard.
The girl reached out to grab his arm. “You’ll be at the next one, right?”
Lockwood took a deep breath. The rush he’d gotten from the fight was already starting to fade. He just wanted to get home, ice his jaw, and have a cup of tea. He sidestepped her just like he would a punch.
“No way to know.”
Another step put them into the aura of a streetlight. Lockwood’s breath stopped. It was almost like she’d actually punched him in the gut. Blue stared back, seemingly speechless.
“I’m Lucy. Lucy Carlyle. The next time you’re around, I’d love a chance to take you one.”
“Anthony Lockwood. Just Lockwood though, if you don’t mind.”
“So just Lockwood. Raincheck on that fight?”
Lockwood nodded. “Just let Flo know the next time you come. She’s got a way of letting me know if there are special requests.”
“Flo?” The girl’s face screwed up in confusion. He couldn’t help but smile at the way she pursed her lips.
“The MC. You should be getting back. Kipps might be finished with your friend by now.” He gave her a rueful grin as he turned to go.
“I’m sure Norrie’s having the time of her life. She fights just as dirty as I do. Goodnight Just Lockwood.”
He watched as she turned and jogged back to the tube station’s entrance.
As he was flagging down a night cab, Lockwood began to wonder if his day was taking a turn for the better.