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From the perspective of any visitor, they would most likely find the sight that unfolded before them with great curiosity. But for the residents of Gressenheller University, they had had enough of all the nonsense their two favorite professors had been doing for the past few months.
There was only so much they could take without intervening.
While in the beginning, it was amusing to see the awkward pining both men did; at some point it couldn't be denied that it was getting irksome. The whole of Gressenheller University waited with bated breath as they observed the affair happen. Luke and Flora -poor dears- had front row seats to the whole debacle. They cringed at every awkward flirting and all the dancing about both men did.
It was no secret, that despite being two of the greatest minds in the archaeological world, Prof. Desmond Sycamore and Prof. Hershel Layton were complete idiots when it came to matters of the heart.
"They solve puzzles, easy as you please and yet all this-!" Randall gestured vaguely as he stood by the wide windows of the library, to Layton and Sycamore walking together in the distance. "I can't even- Arg!!" He tore at his red hair, angrily. "How blind can they possibly be??!" He turned to his companion, glaring. "Clark! Do something about them!!" He demanded.
"Do something about them?" Clark repeated, incredulous. "I'm no wizard, Ascot!" He exclaimed, taken aback.
"Clark! It hurts me to watch them!!" He moaned pitifully, banging his head on the desk.
"Then don't look." Clark deadpanned. "And stop that. I need you to concentrate on this." He tapped his finger on the Mask of Miracles sitting on their work desk in their corner of the library.
"Clark, this is important!" He declared arms akimbo. "Our friends need help!"
"Yes! They need help!" Someone bellowed from the other end of the room.
Both men turned so fast, their necks almost snapped at the force, surprised, to whomever it was that agreed and realized that it was Dean Delmona and half -if not all because Clark could make out some of the others glancing from behind their stack of books- of the library looking at them. Randall turned to Clark, grin wide and sharp like a shark that made the other man flinch.
"Randall Ascot, whatever it is you're planning, I demand you stop it this instant!"
Randall tsked at the other man, glasses gleaming in glee as he stood excitedly over Clark. The alarms in Clark's head were blaring "Warning" repeatedly in large, bold, red letters. He had half the mind to bolt out the room and perhaps hide out somewhere to wait out whatever madness Randall had been overcome with.
However, Randall had seen it in his face. To Clark's eternal horror (and mortification) the other man grabbed him by his coat tail, just as he made a run for it. He stumbled back, falling on his bum and ended up laid out on the cold marble floor, glaring up at Randall. The other man loomed over him, his face shadowed enough that he looked absolutely ominous.
"For heaven's sake, Randall! Can't we just leave it to them?" He pleaded, desperately.
"Not at all!" Randall replied. "Who knows how long this would last. They might never get together! It's up to us!"
"Ugh! Very well."
Randall's grin couldn't get any wider. Clark stood, dusting himself off and straightening his tie.
"So how are we to go about this?"
Many hands were raised in suggestion and there was much commotion in the library that day that the poor librarian had to give up trying to hush everyone and offered up suggestions of his own. Clark was quite certain he was in for quite an ordeal.
In for a penny, in for a pound, Clark. He told himself then entered the fray. He hoped to whatever god was up there that the pair they were plotting this whole thing for, appreciated all the things they were trying to do for them.
Whatever the two men were discussing it didn't seem to be anything but work. Flora sighed tiredly and noticed Luke following close behind them with a barely concealed grimace that made her flinch. He turned his distressed face at her when he noticed her approach and with his eyes, begged her to rescue him from whatever was happening.
Flora took a deep breath and exhaled, preparing herself for another ordeal. With a smile on her face, she came closer.
"Here you are, Professor Sycamore. I've been looking everywhere for you."
Sycamore turned to the voice and smiled at Flora. Layton, who stood beside him tipped his hat at them both.
"I won't delay you any further, Professor Sycamore." Layton said.
"I'll see you around?"
Layton smiled. "Of course." Then to Luke. "Shall we?"
Luke nodded enthusiastically, and with a muttered "Thanks" to Flora, the boy followed. Flora waited for a few moments to observe Professor Sycamore, watching as the man sighed in that forlorn way.
"It might not be my place, Professor." She began. "But would it hurt to just ask him out for tea?"
Sycamore's head snapped at her, in surprise or horror, she wasn't certain then. But the expression was hilarious for the way his eyes grew wide as saucers. As if the very idea of it was preposterous.
"No!" He exclaimed. "You know I could never do that! He's... Well... and I'm... Arg!"
At that he trailed off, unintelligibly muttering to himself as he paced in circles, trying to pull off the hair on his head. Flora could understand neither heads nor tails of it. The man was going to work himself into a nervous breakdown if he kept it up. Flora patted his shoulders, comfortingly, an awkward smile on her lips.
"Now, now." She soothed. "I'm fairly certain he'd agree if you asked." She encouraged.
"No, he won't." He sighed, defeated. His shoulders slumped. "He's too busy with work, what with finals coming up. I doubt he'll have a chance to go out." He paused. "Flora... I'm hopeless."
Yes. You are quite. She agreed to herself. "Don't worry! Just... gather up your courage and it'll all be well..."
"No, it won't." He muttered, dejected.
"Yes, it will." She said, frowning.
"He might not even be interested." He added. "You know the man, my dear. He's unflappable! Last week, a young lady came over and confessed to him. You understand? She confessed to him! " He started pacing again. The soles of his shoes crushed the grass beneath making crackling sounds.
"He thanked her and politely turned her down. Did you hear what he said?"
Flora knew, of course. It was the talk of the university. He turned her down, telling her that while he was thankful for her affections, he couldn't accept them. He wasn't very interested in romance at the moment. When asked why, he didn't answer save for a slight flush on his cheeks and that faraway look told of something else.
Flora puffed her cheeks, utterly annoyed. The answer was obvious considering that the only other person Professor Layton seemed to spend lots of time with was this oblivious man pacing, agitated around the university park.
"That is why you woo him!" She declared.
Taken aback, Sycamore almost tripped on nothing at all. Flora puffed her cheeks angrily.
"W-what-?!"
"You woo him then." Flora repeated. "If you're not certain of his feelings then go and court him. Show him that you're the man for him!"
"I want to, really I do but-"
"But?"
"But what if he rejects me and things get awkward between us?"
Flora didn't know what she was hearing. Was this grown man asking for her advice in love? Flora sighed, tiredly. She knew it was a worrying prospect. It wasn't rejection he was concerned about, rather, losing the other man's regard. Yet Flora knew this was the right way to go.
"It would for a time" She replied, slowly. "But you've been strong friends and rivals far longer than that. I'm quite certain that you'll get over the awkwardness and still be friends after that."
Sycamore let out a deep breath.
"I'll... think on those words." He replied then paused once more. "Thank you, my dear."
"You're welcome, Professor Sycamore."
They didn't speak of it after.
Flora was aware that something was up as soon as she saw the wide grin on Randall Ascot's face and when she was brought into the fold, she didn't want to get involved, at first. But after a while she did understand the need to interfere. Meddling lot that they all were.
Everything was simple. At first. It was just setting them both up on dates with other people and to have those other people cancel on them so they were left alone. Their conversations were excruciatingly normal and any attempts at flirting were piss-poor at best.
So... uh... What of the weather today? Randall recalled Sycamore asking once during one of those dates. Randall felt the embarrassment rolling off of Clark. Quite mortified for their friends.
When a whole month of that didn't work. Don Paolo pushed them all aside and decided it was much better to use force. He had been talking to Flora and Luke at that point and how they bemoaned their poor Professors. Don Paolo couldn't bear to see them upset. He stood immediately and declared that there was only one way to get them together. Don Paolo marched off, determined and very proud of himself that his cackling sent several constables in a panicked scrambling. No doubt worried that something was going to happen again.
Of course, as was the nature of all things, something did happen.
Clark Triton could still recall the ear piercing shriek Sycamore did when he was yanked in the middle of a lecture, through the open window, by a giant robot claw.
I'd scream that way too if I were him. Randall confessed. But you have to admit, He continued, as they watched Sycamore dangling from the giant's claw by the tail of his coat, yelling in distress or annoyance. If this doesn't help them, I don't know what will.
Layton arrived, riding some small, flying contraption or the other, swooped down and rescued Sycamore before the whole thing exploded in a rain of (was that confetti??)
It was another three or so weeks of that. Layton or Sycamore getting kidnapped by Don Paolo's giant robots and the other rescuing them. Clive joined in sometime in between, with his own robot to help...
...But ended up arguing with Don Paulo.
Thankfully, when both men decided there was nothing for it but to come to blows, (using their giant robots) they decided it would be best to take it away from the city. It was the biggest robot fight entertainment ever had. It was quite an attraction that it became an almost monthly event.
I can't make this up! Clark later remarked, fascinated.
It didn't solve their problems and the two professors remained blissfully and idiotically ignorant.
The pining continued.
"If you please, Professor Layton..." Luke called, head down that his cap shadowed his face.
His voice made Layton jump high enough that he dropped the book he was placing back into his bag. The students of his afternoon class filed out of the lecture hall, giggling and the older man sensed something was up.
"Yes, my boy?"
"If you please, Professor Layton," Luke said again. "Professor Sycamore has something important to tell you."
"Hmm. Odd." He murmured. "He'd normally come over as soon as my classes ended." He absentmindedly placed books into his bag. "We were supposed to go out for lunch today."
Luke raised his head. "Did he mention anything else, professor?" He asked, suddenly interested.
Layton hummed in thought, chin resting on his fingers. "He did mention he had something important to tell me. I suppose it must be quite the discovery if it couldn't wait." He closed his bag. "Very well, I'll just drop this off at my office and then I can go to him."
Randall suddenly appeared out of nowhere and hurriedly took his bag from his hands. "No, no, no, Hersh. I'll take that! You just... go follow Luke."
Layton suspected Ascot was up to something but not Luke. Never Luke. The boy had a mischievous streak to him, true. As did Clark, when they were still students, but Luke as practically an angel! So he was more than a little shocked when he was shoved straight into a broom closet by Flora as they turned the corner. He fell in with a grunt, breath knocked out of his lungs and landed straight into Professor Sycamore's arms. It took a few moments of staring before they realized the click they both heard was the door being locked from the outside.
"You too??!"
Sycamore quickly gathered himself up, pushed Layton away in the process and turned to the door, panicking. Of all places to be locked in the same room in and of all the people to be locked in with, it had to be with Layton!
"Flora!! Open the door this instant!!" Sycamore's barely contained panicked voice shouted beside him in the small room. His hands curled to fists, banging on the door.
"Flora!!" Layton shouted, wriggling the doorknob of the broom closet. "Flora, my dear! Open the door please!!"
"No." She replied from the other side.
"I'm not certain what prompted this, but please Flora, for heaven's sake! Open the door!"
"I'm sick and tired of all the dancing about both of you are doing!" Flora fumed.
The people that surrounded her, backed away, suddenly terrified when she brandished a frying pan. From where she got it, no one knows, (though the home economics class was nearby) except to fear her. Flora was a gentle girl but quite fearsome when threatened and this was certainly a threat to all their health.
Behind the door, the two men were still trying to make sense of everything.
"Move, Layton, I'll break down the door!" Sycamore said through gritted teeth.
"Fine!" The girl retorted. "See if I care! we've propped the door with chairs and I have a frying pan!"
That made both men pause. Sycamore grunted, running his palm over his face, exasperated. His glasses askew on his face, it almost fell.
Layton turned to look about the small space they were confined it. For a broom closet it was rather large. More like a storage room to be precise. There were no visible exits but he could feel a cool breeze coming from somewhere behind the shelf. There might be an open window behind it. Hopefully large enough to fit a man trying to get out of this predicament.
"What caused all of this?!" Sycamore demanded. "What could we have possibly done to merit this sort of treatment?!"
Randall gritted his teeth.
"It's not what you did, you idiot! It's what you didn't do!!" He shouted back.
"'What we didn't do?' What do you mean?" Taken aback.
"We've done everything to get you both to just confess!" Randall raged, pacing in circles. His heels made loud tapping sounds as he moved. "We've had giant robots kidnap you-"
"THAT WAS YOUR IDEA??!" Sycamore screeched.
"Actually, It was Flora and Luke's idea, really." Clark remarked. "Paul was just happy to oblige."
Don Paolo smirked. "I hate you, Layton! But you and bread hair are utterly pathetic when it comes to romance." He paused. "I often wondered how in the world did you and Claire ever got together before..." he mumbled. The others in the assembly nodded in agreement.
"This is highly inappropriate." Layton muttered, as he motioned to Sycamore to look at the shelf.
"Stop insulting the hair!" Sycamore demanded.
There was a loud enough commotion outside the broom closet that Layton doubted they could hear them move the stuff on the shelves. Someone outside was guffawing at Sycamore's anger. Layton shook his head but kept removing the items.
Then to no one in particular, Sycamore wondered: "Why do they keep calling it bread hair? Does it really look like bread?" He muttered, putting the box of strange items from the shelf to the floor.
"Well... It does... Sort of..." Layton agreed, sheepishly, placing a pail of green paint on the wobbly chair by his side.
Sycamore raised both his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? I keep it this way so my hair doesn't get in the way when I'm working."
"You can always just have it cut short." Layton suggested.
"My hair stands up on ends whenever it's short." He murmured.
There was a few moments of silence as they heaved the shelf to the side to reveal a small dirty window. It was stuck at a quarter open. But fully opened, it would be large enough to fit a man through. He examined the hinges. There was some rust but it could be removed easily.
The silence was unnerving though and when Layton turned to Sycamore, he had that odd look on his face.
"Do you... dislike my hair?" He hesitated as if it was a matter of great import.
"No! I like it just fine! Bread-shaped and all." Layton assured him. His expression went thoughtful. "Though I do wonder how long it really is."
"It's about-"
"He means he wants to see it down and spread on the bed!" Randall's muffled yell startled them both.
Several people outside erupted once more in loud guffaws.
"Randall Ascot..." Layton's voice dangerously low and threatening.
But the red flush on the man's face conveyed that he knew exactly what the other man meant.
"You lot have gone utterly mad!!" Sycamore bellowed in a rage.
"As a hatter!" Someone, no one was quite sure who at that time, fully agreed.
Then everyone began talking at the same time.
"But we have to be, considering you're both our friends."
"Do you know how painful it is to watch you?"
"I can't stand to see it one more day!!"
"We needed to do something, Professor!!" (It's Luke. Layton realised still with some surprise.)
"Not like this." Layton calmly remarked.
"Of course like this!" Randall scowled. "We've even set you both up on dates and those were nice!"
"No, you didn't!" Sycamore interrupted, glaring a hole through the door where he was certain Randall stood. "You set me up with a-a-!!"
Layton blushed at the memory of that evening. The woman Randall had set him up with was the rather ancient proprietress of one of the more famous antique shops. An antique herself. She was quite obvious with her interest in the other professor. So much so that it was quite scandalous in public.
"A woman of ripe age?" He suggested, helpfully.
"Yes. Thank you, my dear." He said.
Randall raised his eyebrows at that, grinning to Clark.
"You are insufferable! " Sycamore ranted, not realizing what he had said. "If I wanted date her, I would've asked her myself! But I don't fancy her! " Sycamore started to pace in whatever space he was allowed.
"She tried to grope me under the table as soon as we sat down for dinner, proceeded to invade my personal space when I tried to scoot away and she made a scene! Do you realize how humiliating that was? I have nothing against her affections but-Damn it all to hell!-Couldn't you have chosen someone more subtle than that?!" He took a deep breath. "And why HER?!"
"Don't blame me." Randall began, hands raised in mock surrender. "I just wanted her to make you obviously uncomfortable. So uncomfortable that as soon as Layton saw you, he would come in to rescue you and sweep you off your feet!" He paused for a breath. "I didn't expect her be that drastic." The redhead explained. At Clark's raised eyebrows: "What? She was more than happy to oblige." Then with a very loud whisper to the others. "She ships them too!"
Several snickered.
"Really?" Incredulous.
"Yes. Really." Randall replied, proudly. "Apparently, it's common knowledge. There's even a secret-not-so-secret betting pool going on in the Yard about them."
"How much is it going now?"
"It's-"
"Enough of this nonsense!"
Randall open his mouth to protest but Sycamore continued.
"Mad! All of you have gone off the deep end! You especially, Ascot! When I get out of here I'll wring your bloody neck!!"
"Language, Desmond." Layton scolded.
"Don't give me that, Hershel." Sycamore pleaded. "Surely you won't let him get away with this."
"I confess, the thought of strangling him has a certain appeal to it." He agreed.
"You wound me, Hersh!" Randall moaned, over-dramatically. "Was it really so bad?" Randall wondered out loud.
"If Layton hadn't come by that time, my evening would've been ruined!" Sycamore declared, huffing.
Randall's face almost split in half at how large his grin stretched across in countenance. Clark stepped back in alarm, pulling Luke along with him.
"And how would Layton's arrival kept the evening from being ruined?"
"B-because... Well... He's my friend! He helped me. So there!"
"Just that?"
"I... regard him highly. Yes. Quite, quite highly." He cleared his throat. "Quite."
"I regard you quite highly as well." Layton replied.
"Yes... That's... very good." Sycamore turned away to hide his face. "Very good, indeed."
"Indeed."
There was a very long pause as both men turned away, embarrassed. Then set about trying to open the window. Both men stubbornly tried to avoid looking at the other. It was rather difficult on Sycamore's part as he had to help Layton up to reach the blasted window and he had a clear view of his companion's nice, firm-
Don't think about it!! He scolded himself, blushing so furiously, his ears were red and his face burned hot.
"Oh! Bend him over the kitchen sink, why don't you?!"
That declaration from Flora startled both men so much that the only thing Sycamore could exclaim was: "There's no kitchen sink to bend him over in here!" And almost dropped Layton from where he was perched.
Layton's jaw dropped in the most ungentlemanly fashion and looked verily like a gaping fish. The stubborn window opened at that moment with a moaning creaking sound as if only waiting for that one outburst. There was a long silence after that. All of them not certain what surprised them more. Sycamore's exclamation or Flora's suggestion. After a few minutes Clark coughed in a manner that sounded suspiciously like stifled laughter. The rest of the people stood stock still, eyes wide.
"You... You're worried about not having a kitchen sink?" Clark choked. "I-if you want a kitchen sink, there's one where Flora got the frying pan from." He knew that both men could not see where he was pointing at but did it anyway.
Randall laughed maniacally and with a voice loud enough to wake the dead, shouted: "Finally the truth comes out!!" He turned to the assembly with a grin. "This is it, ladies and gents! We'll let them out and have them confess in front of all of us! Just so there's no mistake about it!"
The two men trapped inside the broom closet turned to each other horrified. With a sudden burst of strength he wasn't even sure he had then, Sycamore, boosted Layton up until the other man managed to scramble out of the small window and onto the open evening air. Layton immediately turned to back to Sycamore and held out his hand just in time to help Sycamore up before the door opened and Randall and the others stared at them, trying to runaway with Sycamore's body half-way out the window already.
"LAYTOOON!!!" Don Paulo shouted.
"They're getting away!!!" Randall exclaimed, excitedly.
"Stay still, Randall!" Clark remarked.
"B-but they're getting away!! Clark! They're eloping!!" He grasped Clark by the collar of his suit and shook him. "Do you hear me?! They're ELOPING!!"
He dropped Clark.
"We're going after them!! We can't miss this chance!"
Whether it was because of his enthusiasm or not, it had all the ladies and gents shouting in agreement. There was a sudden surge of people running out the grounds in the cool night air, chasing two men.
The two men resorted to hiding behind one of the trees, using the curtain of the night to keep them from being seen. Sycamore held Layton close, trying to listen to the mob that passed them. Layton was pressed so closely against Sycamore that he could smell the scent of his skin and a faint fruity cologne. He felt his ears grow warm.
"I think we're safe." Sycamore murmured. "They're not coming back."
Layton was mildly disappointed when Sycamore released him. His skin still tingled from the other's warmth.
It was only then that everything that happened came surging back and the embarrassment returned. Sycamore instantly deflated and fell, sitting on the grass beneath their feet and tried to hide his face in palms.
"That... was not how I wanted things to happen." Sycamore muttered.
Layton sat down beside him, eyebrows raised in askance.
"What do you mean?"
Sycamore let out a heavy sigh. "I mean it though."
"Oh?"
"That I regard you highly." He clarified. "I do. Very much."
It was as close to a confession as it would ever get. And it seemed to be understood from the way Layton smiled.
"I meant it as well." Layton replied. "To be perfectly honest, I've wanted to tell you for quite a while now. But, well..." he shrugged. "Things just kept happening it seems."
There was a comfortable silence between them. In the distance they could still hear the muffled ruckus Randall was causing somewhere in the streets and the sound of some constables running after them to make them be silent.
"So, I was thinking..." Sycamore began. "Since lunch was cancelled, how about we go out for dinner instead?"
Layton's smile was radiant. "Of course." He agreed. "But please, if we end up doing... other things. Let there be no kitchen sinks involved."
Sycamore's laughter rang loudly around the place they hid and was soon joined by Layton's own. When they had calmed down, Sycamore held out his hand to take the other man's; which Layton gladly gave as they walked out of their hiding spot, the university grounds and to London's lighted streets.
"Of course." Sycamore agreed. "The bed would be much more comfortable."
And that was that.
END