A/N: welp, here's the first of many randomly generated crack pairings. made this when i was half asleep... ick... so yep, in this chapter there is (obviously) emmy/clive c: i dont own professor layton or the characters used in this fanfiction. enjoy :D

A young woman sat at the cafe table, tapping her foot impatiently. She had a yellow coat, white pants, and boots. She looked average enough, with wavy brown hair, and a naturally beautiful face. Well, it would've been beautiful if there weren't such an unhappy, impatient expression on that 'naturally beautiful' face. A waitress walked up to her with a big smile. "Hello, have you decided on anything yet?" Emmy gave the poor waitress a glare that was most likely not to be aimed at her. "You can take all the time you'd like!" the waitress added nervously, still smiling. "I'll just have a cup of your most recommended tea," the woman told the waitress, flipping her head an wavy cocoa hair back towards her small menu.

With that, the waitress hurried off to get Emmy's order, afraid to ask what type of tea she'd prefer. The waitress with the big white smile didn't want to make this woman the slightest bit upset with her.

Emmy stared at her menu, a blank look on her face. Why had she come here, anyway? In hopes of finding Layton, or maybe even the dreaded brat, Luke? Yes, most likely. The young woman hadn't really thought about it at first, but after the years passed her by, she realized she really did miss being Professor Layton's assistant. At the time, Emmy felt sure this was what she had wanted. Now, not so much...

This had all started three years ago when Emmy was requested as a professional photographer. Emmy, being the careless young adult she had been, had accepted right away. She knew fairly well that this meant having to leave behind her career as Professor Hershel Layton's assistant, but in the excitement of things she didn't care much. She thought being a photographer was the right job for her, but now, three years later, she realized how wrong she had been. Now, here she was, Emmy, the foolish woman with no job, and more importantly, nothing to motivate her to achieve.

Soon a steaming cup of tea was put in front of her, but Emmy's dark gaze seemed to stare through the cup and through the table. How could she have been so stupid...

Emmy didn't look up as the door opened to reveal a new character. He was a thin man with light brown hair and a gorgeous smile. He had a simple blue cap, tie, and jacket with some funny looking blue socks that went all the way up to his knees.
The man, Clive, started to hover over Emmy. "Excuse me, miss, are you alright?"

She sighed with a shake of her head. "Not exactly," Emmy admitted, any of her past aggressiveness had disappeared just to be replaced by hopeless misery. She took a small sip of her tea, just to put it back down. "Do you mind?" Clive asked, although not waiting for an answer. He just took a seat in front of Emmy, which in normal circumstances would make her embarrassed and upset. Emmy didn't move a muscle, though.

"Is everything alright?" Clive asked in a gentle voice.
"No, actually no!" Was Emmy going to reveal everything that had happened in the last three years to some complete stranger that vaguely looked like Luke Triton? Yes, she was.
"Well, I used to work for this gentleman named Hershel Layton, right? I was his assistant! I admired him SO much! So much...
Well, we did some really great adventuring until... This boy came along! His name was Luke Triton, right? Yes, yes, and he was SUCH a brat! Such a cry baby! I liked him a bit, he was like... my rival. Fun to pick on. After years this kind of thing became fun, but I just wish it was the professor and I... Only us... Well, I LOVE photography, right? I got requested for a professional photography job! Hooray! But, I had to quit as Layton's assistant. Which didn't matter at the time. Long story short, I wasn't good enough and got fired within the first few months!" she said miserably. "Now I'm here, trying to find them again..."

Clive stared at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Luke Triton? Professor Hershel Layton? I..." he trailed off, staring at Emmy, wondering if he should mention what he knows. He decided not too.
"I've never heard of them," he lied. "Oh, too bad..." Emmy said, her disappointment as clear as day.

Clive was silent for a moment. During that silence, he watched Emmy sip her tea, watched her unhappiness through every movement. "Hey, you know what!" Clive suddenly said, eyes shining. "I think I can help you. I think I can help you get that old spark!" Emmy looked up from her tea, looking doubtful. "Sir, I don't think you can-"
Suddenly, Clive grabbed her hands and leaned in for a kiss, making Emmy go red with anger and embarrassment. Clive pulled away with a small smirk on his face. "You...You..." Emmy stared at him, steaming.

"It seems that worked out perfectly," Clive said, a sly look on his face. He got up and pushed his chair in. Emmy glared at him, her old fire coming back to her.
"The name's Clive Dove," he said, walking out of the cafe, leaving an messy customer a poor waitress with a big white smile would have to clean up.