Work Text:
The only way that Lucy had been able to get into Kelpie University was by having a work-study placement with one of the on-campus jobs. It’s not like her mother could’ve, nor would’ve been willing to, pay for her to attend university. (Even if it would hopefully lead to her getting a better, higher paying job.) So, all of that was how Lucy Carlyle wound up working in the university bookstore between her classes.
And it was while she was working in that bookstore that she had the (mis)fortune to meet the one and only, Anthony Lockwood.
Or, more accurately, Anthony Lockwood found her and then wouldn’t leave her alone.
It had all started on an otherwise uneventful and quite average Wednesday afternoon, Lucy had been in the middle of refolding some of the overpriced, plainly designed t-shirts with ‘Kelpie University’ in white, bold letters printed across the chest. She had been about halfway through refolding the stack of navy t-shirts when a male voice started to ask behind her, “Excuse me, Miss?”
Lucy dropped the t-shirt she’d just folded onto the stack in front of her before she turned to face the man who wanted her attention, for some reason, “Yes, sir? How can I help you?” She may have had to remind herself to put on her fake, pleasant smile since she was working. (She’d already gotten in trouble several times for being impolite to customers.)
The man, who didn’t appear to be much older than Lucy, smiled back at her, either not caring or not noticing the fakeness of her own grin, before he finally asked, “What’s your name?”
“Was that all that you needed, Sir?” Lucy asked, since evidently she hadn’t put her name tag on when she clocked in. Oops.
“That’s not all, but it’s a start.” The man replied, “Unless of course, you don’t want to tell me your name, which is perfectly fine.” The more he spoke, the man’s confident demeanor quickly faded away, “Which I suppose that I could tell you my name first, if that’ll help. Or if you uh, if you care.”
She seriously hated this job sometimes. “Whatever you would prefer, Sir.”
“Alright, well, um, I’m Lockwood.” The man, Lockwood, replied.
“Lockwood?” Lucy repeated back, getting a nod in return from the man, “Is that really your name?”
Oddly, Lockwood seemed a bit amused by her question, with a smirk gracing his lips as he answered, “Technically it is. It’s my last name.”
“Your last name is Lockwood?” Lucy repeated back, again. And for once, rather than asking the very first thing that popped into her head, Lucy instead thought it over for an extra second before she remarked, “That’s an interesting last name, sounds awfully familiar too.” She had heard the name ‘Lockwood’ somewhere before, and it was really bothering her, in the back of her head, that she couldn’t figure out where she’d known it from.
However, when she said that, some odd look appeared on Lockwood’s face, and Lucy could practically see his brain trying to figure out what to say, after a minute or so, he finally figured out what to say, which was, “Oh, look at the time, I’ve got to get going, but hopefully we can talk again sometime soon.” Even as he’d said it, Lockwood looked at his wrist to check the watch he wasn’t wearing, and once he’d realized he didn’t even have a watch on his wrist, Lockwood quickly made his exit.
“Why do I always have to deal with the weirdo?” Lucy muttered under her breath, returning her attention back to the pile of t-shirts in front of her.
About a week later, he came back.
This time, Lucy was in the midst of hanging up one of their new shipments of sweaters when Lockwood returned. “Hey, Lucy,” Lockwood called, alerting her to his presence before she saw him, “I was hoping I would uh, run into you again.”
“Back so soon?” Lucy teased, only to realize what he’d actually said, “Wait, I never told you my name. Have you been stalking me or something, Lockwood?” Rather than giving her a verbal response, he simply pointed back at her. Or more specifically, at her shirt. Which did cause Lucy to look down and see that this time she’d been reminded to put her name tag on. “Well, that would be how you’d know it. Is there something I can help you with this time? Or are you going to run off again?”
To his credit, Lockwood laughed off her jeer, “No, not running off this time. In fact, since you offered, there is something you could help me with. If you want to, of course.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Lucy replied, feeling a sincere grin grace her lips as she added, “What do you want my help with?”
Interestingly, Lockwood hesitated for a moment, before he finally replied, “It’s not really something that can be done here, or uh, right now. And if, if you don’t want to that’s fine, of course-”
“Can’t you just get to the point already, Lockwood?” Lucy asked, as she quickly cut off his inevitably stammering, stuttering mess of an offer, “I am still on the clock after all. I can’t be chatting away my whole shift or my boss will lay into me, again.”
“Right, uh, well,” Lockwood replied, his eyes trying to remain on her but the red coloring his cheeks had him turning his gaze towards the mannequin behind her as he spoke, “I was uh, just wondering if maybe you’d want to go get coffee sometime?”
She just about dropped the hanger she’d been holding when he asked that. “Coffee?”
“Like I said,” Lockwood began, as he fetched something from his pocket, “please feel free to decline if it’s not of interest to you. But, I think that we could be great together.” As he finished, Lockwood pressed a folded-up slip of paper into Lucy’s hand. And once she had the paper, he left without another word. (But he did look back twice on his way out.)
And when she unfolded the paper, all Lucy found was his full name, Anthony Lockwood, scrawled alongside his phone number. She’d certainly had worse shifts before. (And not too many that were better than that, honestly.) And maybe, going on just one little coffee date with Mr. Lockwood, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.