Chapter Text
"Lucy's not following the biscuit rule"
Lockwood wished, for once in his miserable life, to have the ability to read his newspaper in peace. Just one day without a mess that needed his attention every morning. Or without dealing with whatever it was that's upset George this time.
"Okay? So she took an extra biscuit. We've all done it once or twice. It's not a big deal"
Lockwood also wished for George to get along with their newest hire, but George and Lucy not getting on each other’s nerves seemed even more unlikely than Lockwood getting the chance to ever finish his newspaper.
"No Lockwood. You don't understand. This is a problem."
Lockwood sighed and folded the cursed news paper, putting it aside. I guess we're having this conversation now.
"George. I'll get some more biscuits. It'll be fine. Don't worry about it."
Lockwood knew how much George cared about his rules and habits. But he can't help but be annoyed at the thought of George's true bother being Lucy herself. He wouldn't be making such a big deal of it if it was Lockwood who skipped the rotation.
"No Lockwood. She's not cutting turns to take more biscuits"
"Then what's the problem?" Why are his flatmates so damn confusing?
"We have extra biscuits. And I know you've eaten all of yours and so have I. She's not cutting the rotation because she's barely in it! She doesn't get herself a biscuit every rotation, she just passes it along to one of us half of the time."
"That's weird... Maybe she's not that hungry? Or she doesn't like those biscuits."
But Lockwood doubted his own words as he said them. He remembered when he first met her. She devoured the biscuit they offered her like she hadn't eaten in days. Like she had wanted to savor it, but thought it would disappear out of her hands if she didn't eat it fast enough. And then she did take a second biscuit on top of the first. Just to prove a point to George.
"We can't have an imbalance in the biscuit rule!" said George seriously.
"Focus, George. This isn't about the bloody biscuits." Lockwood snapped. "It's about Lucy. Why is she skipping her turn? She always eats anything you cook for us. She's not a picky eater. Is she ill?"
"No she hasn't shown any symptoms of a sickness, and she is still eating. BUT-" Oh no. George had that look on his face. Like Lucy was the latest subject of his experiments, and he just thought of a new test to run on her. "-she really only eats whatever we give her! She eats anything I make for you and her, but have you ever seen her make her own food? A sandwich even? Or grab a snack from the cupboard? She skips breakfast half the time. She doesn't vote for what takeout we get. Doesn't add anything to the grocery list. She's a passive eater"
Lockwood hadn't heard the term "passive eater" before. He's not even sure It's a real thing. Never the less, hearing it all laid out like that made Lucy's odd eating habits a cause for concern.
"Okay, so what are we going to do about it? How do make her an 'active' eater?"
"I have a few possible ideas. We can start by giving her choices, see what her favourites. Make her more comfortable with requesting and taking things."
"What fruit do you want in you pancakes Lucy?"
"What?" Lucy looked up from whatever it was she was reading on the thinking cloth.
"Fruit." George repeated. "You know, the mature, ripened ovary which comes from the flowering part of a tree?"
Safe to say that that Lucy did not know, based on the blank looks she was giving him.
George sighed and tried again. "I'm making pancakes. We can have banana pancakes, strawberry pancakes, or blueberry pancakes. We might have some chocolate chips if you'd prefer. What would you like?"
Nevermind that they didn’t have any of those yesterday. That Lockwood specifically went to the store just so they can find out which pancake variation Lucy would want the most. To try to make her more comfortable with the food they make her.
"That all sounds good, George. Whichever's fine."
George tried not to get frustrated with her. Really, it was a simple question.
"Well I can't make up my mind and Lockwood likes all of those but he's still asleep." He wasn't. He was waiting in his room for George to first try and understand Lucy. Lockwood would get a chance later on if George's attempt fails.
"Which one's more to your liking? You'd really be helping me out here, Lucy."
"oh umm." She looked past George to see her options. Fingers covered with dark nail polish now tapping on the table. "I've really only ever had plain pancakes."
"That's alright. Is there any kind you'd want to try?"
"Maybe... Maybe the blueberry one? But really they all sound great-"
"Blueberry it is!"
When Lockwood finally stepped downstairs into the kitchen, and saw Lucy completely devouring her stack of blueberry pancakes coated with a generous amount of butter, he shared an approving smile with George.
"We'll try another kind next time Lucy," George said. "so we can determine your favourite. For scientific reasons of course."
Lucy didn't quite get what's scientific about pancakes, but she never thought of herself as particularly smart, so she reluctantly agreed to be a part of George's breakfast experiment.
All the pancakes were uniquely delicious, the banana pancakes were filling and subtly sweet. The strawberry pancakes were the perfect combination of sweet and slightly sour. But there was no mistaking the absolute delight that overcame Lucy when she tried her chocolate chip pancakes for the very first time. There was a sense of childlike wonder that filled her with every bite and she smiled widely to herself as she ate her stack of chocolaty goodness.
Experiment successful, with conclusive results.
George and Lockwood were arguing over which takeout place to order from again, shouting up and down Portland Row.
"I told you I'm not feeling Chinese today. We all like Pizza!"
"We had Pizza last time George! It's my turn to pick"
"You suggested the pizza last time!"
"Because I knew you liked it!"
"well It's not my problem you wasted your turn. I want pizza today"
And on and on it went. Sometimes their voices faded a bit when they moved away from where Lucy was sitting in the library, but then they rise again as they moved through the house. She was trying to focus on the story, but her book (or more accurately her brain) unfortunately did not want to cooperate today and the words weren’t making much sense.
Lucy gently closed her copy of The Witches and hid it in the little corner shelf. She was leaning off the table with the book while reading, so that if one of the boys happen to come in she could quickly drop the book to hide the fact that she's been reading a children's novel. She didn't need the embarrassment of them knowing her subpar reading level. The book did seem quite dark for a children's novel though, but it's not like Lucy had a reference point to compare it to.
Given how loudly Lockwood and George were still shouting, she needn't worry about them noticing her at all. Lucy peaked her head out the library to see the boys still arguing, now at the bottom of the stairs. Blocking the way to her attic.
"I saw a Thai place nearby" Lucy softly interjected, she hadn't even meant to. She just did.
Oddly enough, both boys immediately stopped their heated shouting and turned their full attention on her. She felt herself flush slightly under their gaze. "I mean, I don't know if you even like Thai but I thought maybe we could try it-"
The boys couldn't agree with her fast enough. Weird. She didn't know they liked Thai that much.
"Lockwood what's all this?" A trouser-less George asked, waving around a piece of paper at the other boy.
"I don't know George." Lockwood sighed heavily, putting down his newspaper for the day. "what is it now?"
"I copied the grocery list from the thinking cloth."
"okay? Good job?"
"No Lockwood." George shoved the paper into Lockwood's hands. "since when do you like all of that?"
"All of what George?" Lockwood asked as he scanned the list.
"Coke? You liked Pepsi max last I checked. Vinegar crisps and pickles? Your blood pressure is high enough and you don't even like pickles. You don’t like apple juice either you like orange. Strawberry milk? That's plain weird. And you're too snobby to eat Pot noodles-"
"George, " Lockwood interjected, giving him a wide grin. "I didn't write these."
"Sorry?"
"It wasn't me"
"Then who-" recognition dawned on him.
"Lucy" both boys said at the same time.
Lockwood was suddenly giddy, his news paper forgotten. "I should go to Arifs! We need to get groceries immediately."
"yes yes. Oh And bring doughnuts! I saw Lucy eyeing the chocolate filled custards ones but she didn't get herself anything so get that one, and a bunch of other ones so we see which one she'll like most."
"Got it. Lemon filled for you?"
"Obviously."
Lockwood ran as fast as he could to Arifs, smiling the entire way there.
When George caught Lucy breaking the rotation and saw her take the biscuit meant for him, he didn't seem angry like she thought he would be.
She did understand what she's done wrong when he reached for the turn that passed him by only to find the plate empty. And in her defense, it was an accident. She winced slightly in apology after eating his treat.
"I lost count of whose turn it was."
George looked like he was studying her again, which made her want to shift nervously in her seat. She knows how much he cares about the biscuit rule.
"I won't tell. As long as you don't tell Lockwood I'm stealing his biscuit." He said, as he went to re-fill the plate.
"Deal."
A satisfied grin formed on Lucy's face and George thought of it as a victory. An unfamiliar warmth filled his chest when he saw her relax again.
And if Lockwood noticed that he was skipped in the rotation? That someone took his biscuit? Well, he never said anything. He just bought some more. After all, his team deserved all the biscuits they could eat.
Lockwood ran up the attic stairs. His footsteps loudly hitting the steps in an attempt to alert Lucy that he's coming up.
He found her, as expected, still asleep in her bed. She's not much of a morning person.
"Wake up Lucy, It's time for breakfast. How do you like your toast?" this was Lockwood's newest strategy. Ask her while her inhibitions are down and she might just give an honest answer about herself.
Lucy muttered something absolutely incomprehensible then tried to burry herself into her pillow.
"What was that, Luce?"
"Lockwood fuck's sake It's-" she lifts her sleepy head slightly to look at her alarm clock. "-It's 9:00am. What the hell do you want with me?"
"Toast. What do you want on it?"
Poor Lucy looked so Incredibly confused at the early hours of the morning. Lockwood thought she looked adorable.
"Butter. Butter and toast." Lockwood wasn't sure if it was an answer or word association, but he'll take it.
"alright thank you!" and he ran out of the attic.
He knew Lucy wouldn't wake up yet. But he had an answer. So when he heard her footsteps up in the attic, he started to prepare the toast and put the kettle on to make her tea. At about 10:30, when she made her way into the kitchen, he was already buttering her toast.
When he finished preparing it and put it on a plate in front of her, she only looked at him confused. He wasn't sure if she remembered their conversation from while she was half asleep.
"It's for you Luce." he moved the plate closer to her.
"Oh. Thanks."
She took her toast. A low satisfied hum sounded from her throat while she ate, and Lockwood promised himself he'll always make her toast. She'll never be as hungry as she was when he first met her. He promised.