Current music:	Doping Panda - Candy House | Powered by Last.fm
Entry tags:	layton, legal!luke, luke, professor layton

[Professor Layton] ...Unsolved Even Now
_{Title: …Unsolved Even Now
Rating: PG-15; allusions to not entirely savoury pre-marital relations
Fandom: Professor Layton
Characters/Pairings: Legal!Luke, Layton. Implied Legal/a lorra lorra ladies.
Word Count: 1,439
Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton. Level-5 does, and they do a much better job of it.
Summary: Layton has a little talk with Luke now that he's old enough to appreciate female anatomy. Sequel-fic to An Unsolved Enigma.}

---

A/N: WRITTEN FOR XAL because she wanted to see how a talk about girls would go down between Legal and Layton in the aftermath of An Unsolved Enigma (speaking of which, this is more or less a direct sequel so you may need to read that one first).
Ilu Xal. I'm sorry this is so late and so terribly short and random :)

---

"I was thinking of something, Professor."

Luke had gone to bed, and yet Luke was sat across the table in front of him.
Layton couldn't quite get used to this whole 'future London' business; while it was reassuring to have a guide in this place that was as familiar as it was alarmingly different, the fact it was a twenty-three year old version of Luke made it all kinds of headache-inducing.
Luke might have even been aware of how mindbending his very presence was. At any rate, his grin widened when Layton reached upwards to tug the brim of his own hat down – and that was upsetting in itself, that Luke grew to recognise his mentor's telltale signs of nervousness.

"Yes?" One thing that Layton could pride himself on, however, was keeping said nervousness out of his voice and general manner.

Luke leant against the chair so that it balanced on its back two legs. He was now technically defying gravity,

"We had a conversation once," he paused, seeming to relish in Layton's mounting discomfort. "About…"

"About," Layton muttered.

"Girls," Luke leant forward. "Remember?"

This was a dinner table in the inn, rather than the large wooden desk of Layton's office that the aforementioned conversation had taken place at – but they were sat in a very similar manner to how they had been just over ten years ago. It was more than a little unnerving.

Then there was the subject of the conversation itself.
Remember? Of course Layton remembered. It had nearly given him a heart attack when Luke had brought it up, and then haunted him for weeks afterward in the way that only moments of extreme regret and poor judgement can. Girls, indeed.

"Is there a point to bringing up that conversation, Luke?"

"Well, yes, actually." Luke's chin was resting in a little shelf he'd made by interlocking his fingers. Layton recognised the gesture of one of his own, and was quite disturbed by it. "I did a bit of scientific study, you see. Oh, and don't worry," he raised a hand when Layton looked alarmed, "I 'exercised restraint'."

"Luke…" Was there any way to prevent the dread from seeping into one's voice when it came to matters of women? "Why are you…"

"Well, first of all, there's one thing very definite."

The silence grew between them. Layton felt that the way he composed himself was particularly important in times like this, so he shifted his back a little straighter and tried to adopt an expression of being unfazed.
Luke's arrogant little –half-smile didn't abate.

"Jonathan Rigby was a lying little sod, is what. It's not made of plastic at all."

Layton was quite sure that he felt a blood vessel burst in his brain. Hopefully the resulting clotting would lead to a quick and speedy aneurysm and he'd never have to relive Luke saying that ever again.

"What."

"The hatch," Luke nodded his finger tapping against his chin. That sort of action would have looked more at home on an author stuck for inspiration, or a musing tactician. Certainly not a man mentioning what Layton thought he was mentioning. "I didn't try kicking Flora there or anything, but it was easy enough to deduce-"

That was one allusion too many.
Layton was sure he must be changing an interesting shade of mauve. He hoped that it didn't undermine his point too much when he said, in a low and restrained voice, "Are you insinuating that you have…known Flora?"

Luke looked perfectly at ease. "You don't really want me to answer that, but all the same… I assure you that I didn't just ask to look under her skirt."

"L-Luke-"

"It was strange though, Ms. Riddleton – her grandmother used to store our puzzles, if you remember - she didn't have any plastic there either. Or the young lady at the inn. Or even the girls in that strange shop with all the coloured lanterns outside the door. But that's not the point."

It was only when his vision threatened to leave him that Layton came to realise he was on the verge of fainting. He raised a hand(trembling, by this point) to his forehead and knuckled it against the skin there, hoping it would send a message for Luke to be quiet.
This was traumatic, of course, but Layton still thought he could repress it if he drank a strong knock of whisky and requested someone to punch him unconscious. Just about.

"I'm not sure I want to know what the point is, Luke, now I must really-"

"I wanted to compare notes with you." The worst thing about this horrible scenario was that Luke really did look the image of an earnest scholar, and Layton wasn't able to tell anymore if the expression was ironic or not. "I mean, I came to wondering – perhaps Mr. Rigby simply had a malformed idea of the fairer sex, but then it hit me! Perhaps girls, as they mature-"

"Luke, this is ridiculous-"

"-they change-"

"-refuse to believe you've devised such an – an- absurd hypothesis-"

"-it would explain the differences in urban legends though, yes?" Luke had cocked his head to one side. Layton had to entertain the thought that he was serious, as much as he didn't want to.

With a deep sigh, he tugged his hat's brim even lower. It was now almost obscuring Luke from his line of sight, and that suited Layton just fine. "I don't believe young women are ever composed of plastic at any point in their lives, my boy. Perhaps in the future at some point, when we all have jetpacks and handheld phonesets and what-have-you, but even then I believe that would require long and painful surgery."

Luke looked at him with his arms folded, then seemed to take the answer into account.
It seemed to satiate him (Thank the Lord for small favours, Layton thought) and so he nodded, tugged his own cap into place with an absent flick of his fingers, and sat forward.

"You know," he said, "That makes sense. After all, if it wasn't…organic, then it wouldn't make any sense for the tentacles to be there."

Layton had made the mistake of assuming the conversation was back on safe territory, and taken a large gulp of tea. This ended up being unceremoniously sprayed on the table in front of him.

"You see, I read this wonderful lost volume of works by H.P Lovecraft; it's all erotica, you know, and so I thought as preparation-"

"Luke, s-stop talking, please-!"

"And just because I've not encountered them yet doesn't mean that-"

"Luke," Layton barked, and it took a moment for him to realise that he had gotten to his feet; and indeed, raised his voice and lost his composure.
That was a sobering thought.
He sat back down and forced himself to take another sip of tea. "Luke."

"Yes?" Luke was looking lightly baffled, as if he'd expected Layton to embrace his theories and 'research' with open arms.

"How did…" He went to say Flora and couldn't. "How did the young ladies react to your…ah…"

"Technique? Oh, wonderfully!" Luke smiled and nodded.
It was disturbing how very like an overeager little boy he still was, even in this stage of his early twenties when he should know much better. "It said in the Lovecraft book that they should make a lot of unearthly noises, and they did. Though," he paused, his head on one side, "all of them did slap me and say something along the lines of - and I quote from Ms. Rebecca of London Inn here – 'Come near me with that thing again and I'll rip it off'."

Layton made a noise that was halfway between a moan and a sob. He picked up what remained of his tea and downed it in one slug, because after all, even whisky couldn't offer any solace against what he'd just heard; and then he stood and made to leave the room.

"Professor?" Luke's voice was indignant as he stepped out into the hallway to follow him. "Professor, you're really being awfully immature about this. This is science."

"Oh, quite, dear boy," Layton replied as he started up the stairs. "In fact, I'm going against all my prior morals and telephoning the local comprehensive to inform them that I support their latest proposition. Especially seeing as it will apparently benefit most of the female populace of London."

Luke followed him even to his bedroom door, looking both agitated and confused. "And what proposition is this, Professor?"

"Sex education in schools," Layton said, and promptly shut the door in his face.