So we have a long chapter here, finally! It's a bit choppier in some places than I'd like- particularly the last part, but I only have so much time to write these things between personal life, and I wanted to get this in. ~
It's told from Emmy's point of view, but I think it captures the suspicions that the Professor has about Luke's story as well… Or at least I tried. It'll switch back over to Luke's POV in the next chapter, so don't worry—I just wanted to show the mindsets of the people who don't know what's going on yet to set the scene.
In other news, now that the characters' positions are all laid out, I plan on having Mr. Cat cause some trouble in the next chapter and for the fun to begin— I have some ideas of course, but any proposed shenanigans are more than welcome!
XXXX
Riding the old trusty scooter to the professor's house in the early afternoon was usually a leisurely drive of pleasure. The bustling people of London, the lights, the sounds—the wind whipping through her hair—it was something that would let any girl unwind after a long morning, and Emmy was no exception. She looked forward to finally finishing her business of the day so she could just satisfy her need for speed and freedom…
… Except when it rained.
It was a really, really, awful drive in the rain.
You couldn't go fast when the roads were wet, which was a bummer because, well… it was cold and wet outside… Why had she gotten a scooter prone to hydroplaning when she lived in London anyways?
"…Oh right, because it'd been affordable." Emmy made a face.
It was days like these, when she was crawling along the city's streets at a snail's pace, sopping wet and cold because an umbrella would have created too many precarious blind spots in an already dangerous driving situation, that she really debated whether a more expensive set of tires was out of her price range or not… But she managed, after inwardly cursing her existence quite colorfully, to arrive at the Professor's place in one piece… So maybe those new tires could wait just one more day. Or two... Or until next time it rained…
Emmy parked and took off her helmet with a heavy sigh, swinging her leg over the scooter and shaking her head. Maintenance could wait—right then she wanted to change into something dry and warm up with a nice cup of tea—thank goodness she'd thought to bring an extra set of clothes that day.
"Ah, Emmy, do come in!" The professor already had the door open and waiting when she next looked up—no surprise, what with him being an English gentleman on top of the fact that she was undoubtedly late—he'd probably been keeping an eye out the window. "I've already got the kettle on the stove—it's rather chilly out today."
"It doesn't take a puzzling genius to figure that one out, Professor." Emmy replied, managing a chuckle despite the chill. She followed him inside and closed the door behind them, grateful to finally be able to take off her shoes and pull her spare clothes out of her bag. They were still damp – seriously, what did a girl have to do to get a break in this city? – but it was better than what she had on, at least.
Only after she'd come out of the bathroom, newly changed, did she realize that it was oddly quiet—save for the whistling of the kettle the Professor was standing near. Emmy looked around, then blinked.
"Where's Luke?"
"He's not here yet." The Professor replied, glancing out the window and shaking his head worriedly before grabbing some cups out of the cabinet. Emmy shifted her gaze away from his work to look at the clock on the wall—she'd been a little over fifteen minutes late, and little Luke was always early… What in the world was keeping him?
"I'm sure the lad will be here soon." She tore her gaze away from the clock at the sound of the Professor's voice, "Though if he hasn't arrived within ten more minutes I'm not against going out to look for him…"
"Yes, I agree." Emmy nodded, plodding over to the table to accept the cup of tea he'd poured for her. The professor always made a fine cup of tea, and if they were going to be venturing out into the cold again, she wanted something warm in her system. That first sip was always the best thing on a rainy day—so delicious the way those delicate flavors just hit one's tongue, and that wave of warmth that spread throughout a chilled system—words just couldn't describe. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment-
-and then the sound of the front door banging open nearly gave her a heart attack.
After getting over the coughing fit that came with nearly choking on her tea, Emmy had whirled in the direction of the sound—only to find that the very person they'd been talking about was the perpetrator.
If she'd been soaked when she'd arrived, then Luke had nearly drowned in the rain—his clothes were dripping and he was visibly shivering; far more peculiar than that however, was the fact that his normally blue clothes were quite thoroughly marred by grass stains and mud… And he seemed oddly nervous for having just arrived home… Was that just from the cold?
Emmy shook her head, trying to calm her rapid heart-rate, but her voice was still rather high pitched when she sputtered, "Bloody hell, Luke!"
Now it was the Professor's turn to nearly choke on his tea. "Now Emmy-" He coughed, taking a moment to regain himself, "I understand we were both startled, but I don't think it calls for such uncouth language-"
"Fine then-" Emmy cut him off, "Muddy hell, Luke!" She turned her attention back to the boy, who was wrestling to get his shoes off (was it just her, or was he being awfully delicate with his bag?), "What in the world happened?"
There was a long moment before he answered—almost like he was considering what to say…
"I was coming home through the park, but when it started to rain I took a detour." Luke eventually explained, finally getting his shoes off and putting them in their proper place, "The grass was a bit slipperier and muddier than I expected, and I tripped." He leaped to his feet—a bit too fast, what in the world was he so anxious about?—and gave a bright smile. "You know me- I'm clumsy sometimes!"
Emmy looked at the Professor, raising an eyebrow as she did so; he met her gaze with a dubious one of his own. Together, they looked back at Luke, both wondering exactly what details he was leaving out of his story. Before they got a chance to ask however, the boy gave a nervous laugh.
"A-anyways" He stammered, shrinking a bit under the weight of their searching gazes, "I'm going to go get changed before I catch a cold!"
He practically fled up the stairs before anything else could be said on the matter. Emmy heaved a sigh.
"I'm not buying it." She stated flatly, addressing the Professor once she was certain Luke was out of earshot.
"Yes…The boy's story does seem rather incomplete…" Setting down his tea, the Professor put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "…For his clothes to have gotten so thoroughly dirty when he tripped, he'd have to have gotten quite the running start… Far faster than if he'd simply been trying to outrun the weather…" His eyes grew calculating and distant.
Emmy's eyes widened. "Do you think he was running from someone then?" She frowned and tilted her head. "But… If that was the case, why wouldn't he tell us?"
The professor sighed and took another sip of his drink. "It's too soon to draw conclusions." He said after a moment. His gaze shifted away from the contents in his cup towards the stairs where Luke had disappeared, "We'll have to keep an eye on the boy to see if we can get further information."
Emmy made a face at that notion, but nodded in agreement. It was the only reply she could think to give at that moment that wouldn't seem immature to the Professor. She didn't like this not-quite-honest Luke one bit—if she had her way, she'd have marched right up those stairs and demanded answers under the threat of having Mr. Bear taken away, and that'd have been that. But the Professor tended to prefer more subtle methods, and Emmy couldn't deny that Luke seemed to respond to them better- last time she'd tried to take Mr. Bear hostage Luke had called the police and a large portion of Scotland Yard ended up on their doorstep to apprehend 'a crazed kidnapper'…
… So maybe subtle was the best way to go after all… But that didn't mean she had to like it.
-XXX-
The Professor had a cup of tea ready and waiting by the time that the boy's footsteps came pattering back down the stairs—which wasn't a surprise, given how long it'd taken him to return. Emmy half wondered if he'd gone out to the store and bought new clothes, but since this obviously wasn't the case, she settled on narrowing her gaze at him suspiciously when he accepted the offered cup. Luke's response was to determinedly avoid meeting her eye—much to her frustration.
"I'm sorry I took so long." He eventually said, speaking pointedly to the professor though Emmy had a feeling the words were directed more at her, "I was setting my school things out to dry and putting my dirty clothes in the laundry."
"It's no trouble my boy." The Professor responded, offering a soothing smile in an attempt to break the tension between the two (an utter failure, much to his chagrin), "It's good of you to do these things now rather than later. In fact-" He turned his attention towards his female assistant, "You are more than welcome to put your wet clothes in with his, if you'd like."
Emmy blinked and tilted her head, "Oh there's no need for that, Professor-" She insisted, "I can just wash them when I get home!" Her clothes were just wet after all—it wasn't like they were in any danger of being ruined—he should have known that… Right?
The Professor's gaze was oddly intent for an invitation to use the washing facilities though… Maybe he was trying to give a hidden message? Emmy doubted it was simply a puzzling way to tell her that he didn't like her fashion sense… But the only way to figure out for sure seemed to be to accept the invitation.
"I guess if you're offering though…" She eventually amended, still trying to figure out what in the world was so relevant about a washer in the first place. "It couldn't hurt…"
"Good!" The Professor replied, already shooing Luke (who seemed oddly intent on looking over his shoulder all of a sudden—was his face that pale a minute ago?) towards his office. "Take your time Emmy. We'll meet you inside."
He offered a friendly smile at her over his shoulder, but Emmy still found his behavior odd—almost too pushy for his normal gentlemanly self. It was only as she watched Luke's back- now stiff with that anxiety he was pretending not to have- disappear through the door, that she realized what the message had been: the Professor wanted a chance to try and talk to Luke alone—while she went and investigated upstairs… Emmy smirked.
"Maybe these subtle methods of his really are the best kind after all." She thought, heading for the bottom step once the door had clicked shut. She chuckled to herself, "Not that I'll ever admit it, of course."
-XXX-
There was a certain irony to be found in the fact that she was invading someone's personal space at the request of an English gentleman—even if Emmy knew it was because the Professor was deeply worried about the situation. After all, what if Luke had a bully? What if he was being blackmailed? There were plenty of reasons to be anxious about the boy's silence…
…Good motives didn't make her feel any less awkward as she stepped into his room, though.
She'd been in there before of course, but that had been in the pursuit of a certain stuffed hostage; this was different—this time she'd actually have to do some digging if she wanted to find anything… It felt wrong but… Emmy glanced at the bright colored clock on the wall and sighed. There was only so much time before her absence would become suspicious—she couldn't waste any more of it considering ethics—it was time to swallow her pride and get started.
Her first course of action was to cast her gaze around the room- just to get a feel for the area. It was surprisingly tidy for a boy Luke's age; a jumbled set of puzzles lay on his desk (along with his damp school supplies), and there was a rather large pile of books in the corner, but overall it was well organized and spacious… Then again, he did live with the Professor, so maybe it wasn't so surprising after all.
"That just means it'll be easier to find something out of place." Emmy mumbled.
And indeed, she'd hardly finished speaking when her wandering eyes settled upon an object fitting the description of 'suspicious'—a small wooden box sitting on Luke's bed with a bright red cross emblazed on the front: a first aid kit. Emmy blinked.
"Odd…" She thought, wandering over and opening it up for a closer look, "I don't recall Luke wearing any bandages when he went off with the Professor…" And yet, there were some missing from the set—clear as day before her eyes…
Just what was going on here?
She closed the set and turned away from the bed, figuring the only way to answer her questions was to keep investigating.
…And then she froze.
…Something…. Something… was crawling over her foot! Something big and fluffy and oh god it was a tarantula!
Emmy felt a chill go up her spine, and she gulped, rooted on the spot. She should have thought about how illogical it was that Luke would have a tarantula in his room, or perhaps considered that they certainly weren't native to London, but all she could think about, as she stood there trembling in fear, was that maybe—just maybe—if she stayed perfectly still… It might leave her alone.
…And then it bit her foot.
Emmy squawked and leaped onto the bed, plastering herself against the wall as if that would somehow protect her. Her heart raced as her eyes whipped back and forth, searching for where the creature had run. Tarantulas were poisonous, weren't they? She was going to die! That was what the buzzing in her ears was! Her systems were shutting down—this was it, this was the end-
"-Wait a minute…" Emmy blinked slowly as the realization hit her. "That scratching noise isn't me…"
It was actually coming from under the bed.
"And come to think of it-" She looked down at herself, taking a couple of deep breaths to get her heartbeat back in rhythm, "-I feel just fine."
Something just wasn't adding up here. If she wasn't poisoned then it hadn't been a spider that had attacked her foot, and if it hadn't been a spider that attacked her, then she still had no idea what it was that was making noise under the bed… Was this what kids felt like dealing with the boogeyman?
Emmy crept forwards, lying flat so she could hang off the edge of the bed and peer under… At first she saw nothing- which was almost enough to get her panicking again- but then a small form hobbled out of the shadows towards her, batting at her suspended hair…
It was a cat. A kitten no less. Emmy wasn't sure if she'd ever felt so silly in her life—a kitten had nearly given her a heart attack.
She righted herself and gently picked the creature up— laughing in relief when it mewed at her happily in response. It was definitely not a tarantula, that was for sure.
"Looks like you're the solution to my investigation." Emmy informed it, scratching behind its ears. Luke must've been hiding the little guy from the moment he'd walked through the door— which would explain why he'd been so nervous. The cat even wore the missing bandages from the first aid kit—everything finally fit.
"He probably brought you home because your paw is hurt, huh?" She mumbled, looking at the little creature thoughtfully as it played with her fingers, "But he kept you hidden because he knew that the Professor would never let him keep a pet…"
But that was silly—no one wouldn't have turned away a helpless baby animal that was hurt—particularly the Professor! He was an English gentleman after all! How in the world could Luke not realize that? Emmy made a face and rose to her feet, picking up the creature as she did so. This was preposterous—she was going to reveal the truth this instant!
The kitten gave a startled mew in response to the sudden movement, and when she looked down its large eyes met with her own … she hesitated.
The professor wouldn't turn away a kitten in need… But… What if he did? He'd never let Luke have a pet before, after all… And this creature would never survive on its own…
Emmy felt her resolve cave.
"I can't believe I'm doing this." She mumbled, shaking her head as she plopped back on the bed. Her eyes pouted at the creature in her lap. "We're never going to get away with this you know."
It simply purred in response.