Title: Padlock
Fandom: Neverwhere
Rating: Teen
Length: 1062
Content notes: N/A
Author notes: First time posting, first time writing Neverwhere and there's even an OC. Bad times!
Summary: The Angel Islington's guard, Camden Lock has a new tattoo which means nothing good for him

Camden appeared as if from nowhere in front of the far wall of The Angel Islington’s prison. It galled him how she could do that, come and go as she pleased from this place without having to worry about the nightmares or the beasts, though he’d gladly take those on to get out of this damned place, out of these four walls, though the rest of London Below was not where he wanted to go.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

She tilted her head at him, walking past without answering for a moment. “You do remember I’m the guard, don’t you?” she replied.

“Only when it suits.”

She turned to face him them, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh I’m always your guard, Issie. It’s just that it get so damn boring down here I have to find ways to amuse myself.”

“Ah, is that what it is?”

“What else could it possibly be? I’m smarter than that. The second you think I have feelings for you you’ll be trying to get me to let you out of here. Which will never happen incidentally.”

“Or I could just kill you, of course.”

She laughed at that. “You could,” she agreed. “But if you think for one second they wouldn’t replace me instantly you’re wrong. And you know you’re unlikely to have anywhere near as much fun with them as you do with me. And of course you’d still need Lady Door.”

He turned away, heading back towards his altar, candles fizzling out as he went, leaving her in darkness.

“If you must know I was at the Floating Bazaar,” she informed him.

“Any particular reason?”

She followed the angelic light he cast, stepping beside him before she answered. “I got a new tattoo,” she explained.

He turned his head to look down at her, waiting for her to show him, because he wasn’t going to ask, that would imply he was interested.

“Do you want to see?”

“I suppose,” he agreed.

“A little more light?”

With the flick of his wrist the chamber was illuminated again as she moved her deep blue hair out of the way so he could see the name she now had tattooed upon the nape of her neck.

His.

It could have been mistaken for a romantic gesture were it not for the padlock on the curve of the last ‘n’ in his name, and if he didn’t know the power Camden’s tattoos had.

“Do you like it?” she asked innocently.

“What is the meaning of this, Camden?” he demanded.

“Well between me being the lock, and you trying to bring the key here I thought I should make some extra provisions.”

“I should kill you right now,” he hissed, his eyes suddenly black.

“Try it,” she said, stepping in front of him, reaching down to touch the tattoo of the dagger at her thigh, while Islington watched it materialise in her hand, sharp and lethal and very, very real. “You’re not even armed, Issie,” she said.

“The Old Firm…”

“They could probably kill me incredibly easily and painfully, yeah,” she confirmed. “But again we’re back to the whole replacement thing.”

“Your replacement wouldn’t be so inventive.”

“No,” she agreed, looking far too pleased with herself. “Probably not. Tell you what. If you’re that keen to get rid of me call them. But first let me remind you why you probably don’t want to do that?”

“You think you can control me with sex?” he asked.

“I think it’s worth a shot. And if I can’t I’ve got one last session with you before you have me brutally murdered.”


The moon on Camden’s right shoulder blade shone like the thing itself. Had she not been here Islington would never have got to see it. It was beautiful, and it lit up the room in a way even his own glow didn’t. She lay there on her back, pictures and symbols inked here and there, always being added to depending on her needs. Below the moon there was a puma reclinding. She tended to leave that one behind when she went out ‘as a surprise’. She seemed to be under the misapprehension this was somehow funny. On her right hand side was a sword that went all the way down to her knee over her buttock, on either side of her shoulder blades were a pair of matching knives. She liked to be hands on he’d worked out quickly, there was nothing that could be used long range, and certainly nothing that was in any way modern, unlike the woman herself who really didn’t fit into London Below with her blue hair and big boots. He knew she spent a lot of time in London Above, and it seemed this was how they dressed up there now, a truly frightening thought.

He stood over her, looking down at the many symbols dotted around her body, a pentangle for protection, the sign of the maiden.

“Do you remember that rose you had?” he asked

Camden rolled over so she could see him. Her front was also covered in tattoos, but not so much as her back. “The virgin.”

It had been on her left breast, now that area of her body was completely blank.

“The virgin,” he repeated with a smirk.

“A century I kept that,” she told him, sitting up. “I think I did quite well considering.”

“I am an angel, you know?”

“Fallen,” she reminded him.

“But not nearly far enough.”

“Still I suppose you’re angelic enough that my maiden never turned into the mother. Will you really have me killed?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said simply, as he got onto the bed with her.

“The Floating Bazaar’s still open,” she informed him. “There are a lot of symbols for eternal life, and I have quite a lot of space left.”

“I’d better make sure they have you as a priority then, hadn’t I?” he said, leaning in to kiss her.

“Higher than Lady Door?” she asked, laying her hand on her chest pushing him back to look into his black eyes.

“Perhaps I’ll have them kill you both after I’m done with you and I’ve ascended.”

She smirked at that. “Oh well if you’re going to Heaven I guess I’ll see you up there, for my revenge.”