A Hen Meow
by volta arovet
a Professor Layton story
Rating: G
Warnings: Only four of the puzzles are actually solvable. Written quickly, so one of the puzzles accidentally has two solutions.
The morning after she had left the mysterious village, Flora woke when the angle between the hour hand and the 12 was precisely double in one direction than it was in the other. She woke to the smell of freshly baked cakes and the sense of a thousand puzzles to solve.
When she stretched and sat up in her bed, she saw that the checkered quilt had every prime numbered square colored blue and every perfect square was red. It was a proper boy's room, with fascinating maps marked with string on the walls, and a cricket bat resting in the corner.
She felt guilty for obviously rousting Luke from his own room, but the guilt only lasted a moment until she remembered how gentlemanly the two men had been, insisting on only the best for her. They really were wonderful.
She walked barefoot to her transported wardrobe, placed neatly by the door. She opened the drawer which contained her black and white socks and, after blindly pulling out the minimum number to assure she had a matching pair, slipped them on her feet. After pulling on her pretty pink bathrobe, she set out down the hall to find where that wonderful scent of breakfast was coming from.
Flora padded down the stairs, skipping every third step on nothing more than a whim, and entered what turned out to be the kitchen.
"Good morning, Flora!" Professor Layton cheered from the kitchen. He had an apron tied about his waist and was waving a spatula. "You're just in time for breakfast. Would you mind helping Luke set the table?"
Luke was busying himself with the tea set, pouring back and forth until he was certain that each cup of tea contained an equal amount. "Could you get the teaspoons from that drawer?" Luke asked, nodding towards a cabinet. There were three drawers there, labeled Spoons, Forks, and Forks and Spoons, respectively. "Sorry about the labels," Luke added. "None of them are right."
Flora opened the correct drawer and removed three teaspoons, putting them on the tray next to Luke's teacups. "There you go," she said smartly, and Luke beamed.
"How do you take your tea?" Luke asked, as they moved to the table.
"Just sugar," she said sweetly.
"Let's see," Luke said, pondering the arrangement of the table. "If the Professor and you like sugar, and the Professor and I take cream, then we will need to sit..." After puzzling over this a bit, he put the cups in the correct positions next to the sugar and creamer.
Professor Layton entered with a beautiful strawberry shortcake in his hands and a series of flour dashes and dots on his cheek. "Here we are," he said, placing it on the table.
"It looks delicious!" Luke cheered, looking at it with awe. "Are you sure we can have this for breakfast?"
"Of course!" Professor Layton said, nodding at Flora. "It is, after all, Miss Flora's first day with us, and that makes it a special occasion." Flora flushed when she saw both of them looking at her. "Now we must hurry up and eat, for we have much to do today. We must fix up the spare room so that it is suitable for Miss Flora, and get her all the various things she will need."
"Let me look at the map after breakfast," Luke said. "The Laytonmobile's been making a funny noise, and we shouldn't drive any farther than we have to."
"Very well, Luke, but remember that we have reservations at your favorite restaurant tonight, and we must spend exactly fifty pounds on--my dear Flora, what is the matter?"
Flora was crying silently. "When my father died, I was so worried about who would take care of me. I'm so glad..." She looked up, and she was smiling behind the tears. "I'm so glad it was you."
"My dear, let me assure you, we are the ones who are blessed. Now," he handed her a serving knife, "would you do the honors?"
Flora wiped away her tears and took the knife, and, with a sense of warmth and family swelling her heart, cut the cake into six neat pieces, each with one strawberry, using the minimum of cuts.