I'm so sorry for my sporadic updating schedule. I got busy with life and I just ended up losing the file I kept the fic in, and I ended up getting really discouraged about rewriting it. I found all my old stuff on a flash drive, not complete, but better than restarting!

I really do enjoy writing the Emmy and Luke dynamic—they argue just like my older brother and I did as kids—which brings back a lot of memories for me… We're pretty close these days though, and I'd like to think that, given time, the sibling relationship between these two characters will evolve in the same way.

…And so does the Professor, apparently. But that's something you'll have to read to find out! /shameless foreshadowing

This is the final chapter, after such a long wait that I'm so sorry for putting you through! Thanks so much for reading this far and reviewing! I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I did writing it!

P.S Yes, the Italian restaurant is named 'puzzle' in Italian according to google. I'm so original, aren't I?

Also, Layton's puzzle is obvious, but the point is I tried.

Happy reading!

-XXXX-

In the heart of the city of London the places that offered food were large and lavish—a hotspot for tourists with money to spend; by comparison to these extravagant attractions, the restaurant of Decifrare appeared subpar. It was rather small, and beyond its name, its exterior had little of interest; the color of it was a bland cream compared to the vibrant bricks and stone architecture of the city, and the paint was even chipping here and there.

What the place lacked in grandeur however, it more than made up for in atmosphere. Decifrare was the sort of restaurant that one could go where the waiters and waitresses remembered them by name and knew exactly what their regular order was; it was the sort of place where even the strangers sitting at the table over offered a warm smile and a good conversation to anyone to passed them by. As a family owned business, they made their atmosphere through charm and good food at affordable prices—perhaps one of the few places left in London that genuinely cared more about the customer and less about the money.

It may not have been a tourist hotspot, but Decifrare was undeniably popular among the city's local populace—including the trio that stopped in for dinner—and, as to be expected on a rainy Friday evening, it was quite busy despite its small size.

They were greeted by a cheery looking waitress the moment that they walked in, who promised to get them seated as soon as possible. She was bright and bubbly, with little wisps of hair that poked out of her blonde bun every which way—she didn't seem to mind in the least that she was far too busy to mend this though—the more she buzzed about between tables, dancing with platters and serving drinks, the happier she seemed to be.

She was the owner's daughter, if Emmy's memory served her correctly; the girl generally served Layton when he arrived because the Professor had ties to her father through the university… Which was undeniably a good setup—despite how crowded and busy the place was, they had been seated within ten minutes—plus their beverages were on the house!

"I wonder how open the Professor would be talking to my landlord…" Emmy couldn't help but smirk at her own humor.

They were given menus, though the only purpose they had in opening them was to see what the daily special was; it was chicken cacciatore, which both she and Luke insisted on getting along with their usual orders. For once though, as they babbled their meal plans to the waitress, the Professor didn't flinch—just another bonus to the place: no guilt over the state of his wallet.

"It's pawfully crowded in here." He observed with a chuckle once they were alone again, "I'm glad we were able to get in despite it all." Emmy turned away from the retreating back of the waitress to stare at him with raised brows.

She'd misheard that, right? She had to have misheard that.

"No kitten!" Luke chirped up in reply, causing her incredulous look to shift towards him. "Now if only our food would furry up and get here!" His stomach rumbled loudly.

Now Emmy was willing to admit—at least to herself—that their furry friend back at the Professor's place had given her quite the scare. The tea incident had been bad enough, but when the little guy had run off with the Professor's hat, she'd thought that her heart was going to beat right out of her chest; even as they'd packed her scooter onto the roof, she'd been inwardly panicking the entire time that Luke wouldn't make it.

…He had of course… but it'd still taken her a while to calm down afterwards. Emmy made a face.

"What sort of gentleman will Luke be if he keeps a lady in suspense like that?!" She wondered huffily.

The Professor meanwhile was oblivious to her musings- or perhaps simply pretending not to notice—as he kept his attention on his apprentice. "Now Luke-" he said, smiling and shaking his head, "-patience is a furtue of a true gentleman."

Emmy groaned. Apparently—if she had to guess what hearing things meant- she still wasn't quite over her paranoia. She wasn't quite sure what was worse— the fact that her mind was torturing her with bad puns, or the fact that her groan had gotten the attention of both her companions.

"Is there something wrong?" The Professor asked, concern weaving into his voice like a needle through thread, "You've been purrticularly quiet since we ordered our food."

"Nothing's wrong!" Emmy exclaimed—perhaps a bit too quickly. She smiled sheepishly as she added, "The noise is just giving me a bit of a headache…" Although it'd been the first excuse to pop into her head, it'd probably be true before long—so it technically wasn't a lie… Technically.

Rather than deter attention however, concern lit up in Luke's eyes like a light, and she could tell that he was wondering if such a predicament was his fault. In an attempt to avert his guilt—and further puns- she gave him a warm smile to assure she bore no ill will.

He still looked worried.

* "Drink a litter more of your soda then-" he insisted, much to her dismay, "-You'll be feline better in no time!" *

His voice was laced with as much concern as his mentor's had been, and Emmy couldn't bring herself to shoot him down by insisting she was fine. So she mumbled a 'thanks', for once resisting the urge to utilize her usual 'second apprentice' tease (she didn't even want to consider what sort of cringe worthy pun filled rant would come out of that), and assured, "I'll give that a try."

It couldn't hurt at least- she had a feeling that it was going to be a long wait for their food to arrive if she couldn't find something to distract herself with.

"I suppose I'll just have to do my best tune out the punishment until then." Emmy heaved a sigh.

…And then she blinked.

"Punishment." The word rang through her head once again, and she became very still; mulling the phrase over, slowly comprehending what it was that she had done. "…'pun' ishment..."

… And then her eyes widened in horror—this thing was like some sort of contagious disease!

"Now I'm doing it!" Emmy abruptly exclaimed, thoroughly startling her companions at the table with her sudden outburst. They both stared at her; slack jawed, for a very long and awkward moment. The three of them could have been statues with how stiff they'd gotten; even people at the surrounding tables were stealing furtive glances of curiosity. The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife.

…Until it was broken—as suddenly as it'd began- by Emmy taking Luke's advice and attacking her drink with great enthusiasm. Anything was better than having her mind filled with self-inflicted torture, right?

After staring for a moment longer, Luke shook his head a bit and stiffened, prepared to ask her if she was really quite all right. Before he could get the words out however, the Professor met his gaze and shook his head. It was clear in his eyes that he was just as confused as the boy about what was bothering their friend, but he accepted that it was something better left unasked—what with how much Emmy was focused on her drink, she wasn't likely to answer anyways. A good gentleman always let a woman have her privacy when it was clear she wanted it—no matter how odd her methods of displaying that information was.

…And although the Professor couldn't have realized it in such a situation, Emmy was grateful that he was such a considerate persian…

…Maybe she should've considered an alcoholic drink before ordering earlier.

-XXXX-

By the time that their food had arrived, Emmy had chugged enough soda that she actually had ended up with a headache, much to her dismay. She supposed that this must have been some sort of punishment for encouraging a ten year old boy to lie to his mentor for the better part of a week, which meant she probably deserved it… but she'd always thought that divine retribution would be a bit flashier than a headache and some bad puns… Maybe she should have just counted her blessings—goodness knew she didn't need karma taking her thoughts as some sort of challenge.

Luckily, if there was anything that could cure a hungry assistant with a pounding head and a need to divert her attention from self-inflicted torture, it was food, and Lady Luck seemed to give Emmy her blessing where Mistress Karma gave the cold shoulder. Their food finally arrived, hot and ready, and even as the bubbly waitress made small talk with the Professor, she wasted no time in serving them; the sheer amount of food that had been ordered between the three of them—which must have been quite the feat to fit comfortably on one table—didn't seem to faze her either. She piled it up before them as easily as if it'd been the Professor finishing a puzzle, and as Emmy gladly began devouring her food—'devour' being figurative for 'eat as fast as she dared in the presences of her boss'—she found herself feeling a lot better.

Her headache had already started to subside by the time that the waitress dashed off towards another table—it really was amazing what good cooking in generous portions could do for a girl in need—the Professor was really missing out in only getting one small meal for himself! Heck! Even Luke knew the value in a good, full, meal! Emmy swallowed hard and looked at her boss—who was eating his food at a much more moderate pace than she and the apprentice kept—and shook her head a bit. She supposed a true gentleman never took on more tomato bruschetta than he could handle… Or something.

She'd never been good at the whole 'proper lady' thing herself.

"Excuse me, Emmy-" The Professor's voice blew away the cloud of her food-driven bliss and brought her crashing back down to reality. "-Would you be so kind as to pass the cheese?"

Emmy took care to gulp down her food before responding. "Yeah sure, just gimme a sec to find it between all these plates." Her eyes roamed the table for a moment, searching for the object in question; once she found it however, rather than grab it, she became very still.

It had just occurred to her that the Professor had asked her to pass the cheese. Not the Cheshire Cheese, or Purmesan Cheese, or—dang, she was doing it again—but the cheese. Just the cheese.

"Emmy?" She lifted her gaze to meet her boss's worried one, staring for a moment before jumping and passing the condiment in rather a hurry.

"Sorry Professor!" She said, playing with her hair as she gave a sheepish laugh, "I had to think about what you said for a minute…" Technically this wasn't a lie, but her stomach still twisted uncomfortably as she spoke… really though, what was she supposed to say? The truth was more ludicrous than the lie—plus it would have gotten herself and Luke in trouble. A little guilt was something she was just going to have to suck it up and deal with.

Still, the Professor's silence was disconcerting. He sure was taking his time with that cheese—definitely giving himself time to think… But did that mean he was on to her? To them? He was certainly top notch when it came to solving puzzles, but Emmy would have been quite impressed if bad puns due to cat-hiding-guilt was the first thing he came up with.

"Emmy."

She jumped when the Professor finally spoke. Sure, she knew that there was no way he'd figure it out like that but… Well… A top notch puzzle solver was pretty intimidating when you were trying to hide something from them…

"I'm starting to worry that your drive in the rain earlier today may not have been good for your health."

She was starting to worry that a lot of things may not have been good for her health… Like cats… And puns… In fact, she was starting to worry that they were worse for her health than a simple cold would have been…

"So forgive my concern if I suggest that you go to bed earlier this evening after I've dropped you off rather than later."

Great. Now the Professor was worried about her, and she couldn't tell him not to worry because then she'd have to make excuses—which would've likely led to the truth getting out. Emmy sighed. If she got out of this and still had her job, she was going to find some way to make it up to her boss—even if he never understood why.

"Yes Professor." She eventually stated, sounding resigned, "I'm starting to think that best too…"

Having been munching on his food silently throughout the course of this conversation, Luke now paused in eating, looking back and forth between the other two; his expression was one of mixed concern and confusion, and Emmy had to wonder what exactly was going through his head that he was struggling so profusely to put it together. There was a long moment of silence—save for the soft scrape of silverware on their plates—before he finally spoke.

"…So…" He began slowly, his innocent gaze settling on his mentor, "…Does this mean we don't get dessert?" Emmy nearly choked on her food.

Of all the things she'd been expecting out of him, she'd have thought it'd been a little more sensitive than that. Then again, he was a growing boy with a big appetite and a sweet tooth, so maybe it wasn't so surprising. With how precocious he was the majority of the time, Emmy had to remind herself often that Luke was still a small child- it was too soon to expect perfect gentlemanly behavior out of him.

The Professor looked rather startled as well—which made her feel better- but he was quick to recover with a hearty laugh. The man was clearly more used to dealing with children than she was.

"Luke, my dear boy-" He began, still chuckling, "-A true gentleman always puts a lady's needs before his own. Even if that means postponing his favorite fudge sundae for a later date."

"…Okay Professor." The young apprentice looked disappointed as his eyes turned back to his food, even pouting a bit as his fork nudged a lone meatball, but he didn't argue; that at least, was a gentlemanly step-up compared to most kids his age. The Professor's gaze softened at the sight.

"Now now, none of that." He gently chided, "How about a puzzle instead? You both can work together to solve it—it's just as important to feed the mind as it is the body after all."

"Ah yes, puzzles." Emmy smiled a bit, "The Professor's solution to everything." Odd as the method was though, there was no denying that it worked. Luke perked up—if only a little—and softly returned the smile his mentor offered him; he even stopped torturing that poor meatball on his plate while he nodded. Emmy found herself smiling too, despite herself. It was really amazing at how good her boss appeared to be at… well, everything.

"Right then." The Professor continued. "A man goes to a British pet-store and asks the clerk what color a collar should be to look best with a certain fur color. The clerk informs him that a red collar would go best with black fur, and a white collar would go best with brown or patterned fur. The store had three different types of collars in stock—what color was the third collar, which would go with white fur?"

The others leaned in to listen—as if doing so would somehow make the solution more apparent… It didn't. They shared a thoroughly baffled look with each other before looking back at the Professor.

"Um… Yellow?" Emmy stated the first random color she could think of with a shrug. Her boss shook his head.

"Take your time and think about it." He hinted, his smile widening (he always did take pleasure in thoroughly befuddling people—was that considered gentlemanly?), "I'll never concede the answer unless you can tell me why you arrived at it." Emmy stuck out her tongue playfully in reply.

Okay, so her boss wasn't good at everything. He was definitely awful at giving hints.

The rest of the meal was passed with more shots in the dark, and dessert was left quite thoroughly forgotten as their mutual determination increased. Since the Professor's words had ruled out simply naming off random colors, they took turns coming up with whatever reasons they could think of—everything from 'white, since the cat's fur is white' to 'green, because it's pretty!'. Each time they got a shake of the head. Never once did the Professor's expression change from that knowing smile, nor did he give any further hints. By the time that they had finished their meal and received their check, the puzzle was no closer to being solved than when they'd began.

Emmy had a feeling she was going to lose sleep over that thing even with her agreement to go to bed early. There was just something particularly frustrating about that puzzle; it seemed like the answer should have been right there from how the Professor kept smiling about it, but they were completely clueless. Clearly, there was something obvious they were both missing… But what? Emmy heaved a sigh of frustration.

…At least she wouldn't have nightmares about bad puns that night, that was for sure.

-XXXX-

Luke continued to guess at the puzzle for the rest of the night. Even when the Professor insisted they both went to bed—probably more to get away from the hounding than out of actual fatigue- the young boy stayed up far later than he normally would have mulling it over. Under his blankets with a flashlight, he hunched over his notebook writing down anything that came to mind—which wasn't much.

There was just something incredibly frustrating about that puzzle. Normally Luke thrived on riddles and mind games, but out of every color in the spectrum, how was he supposed to pick only one? And what in the world would the reason for picking that color be? He knew that the Professor had been hinting at something at the restaurant—but his mentor had a habit of making hints obscure—make it seem like things should have been obvious when they most certainly weren't.

At a loss, Luke even asked the kitten for some advice—for who better than a white furred creature to know what collar would go with white fur?

His friend had simply asked what a collar was.

In the end, the young apprentice had drifted off to sleep as clueless and frustrated as he'd been when he'd first been sent to bed. His dreams were restless—filled with a certain little kitten running around a pet store making messes where it shouldn't. With him not being able to find where they kept the collars no matter how hard he looked… And with the smile the Professor wore whenever he'd figured out a particularly difficult puzzle- when he knew something that no one else did.

That was perhaps the most frustrating part of it all.

-XXXX-

School passed by in a blur the next day. Math and history just didn't seem as important as that puzzle, and instead of equations notes from his readings, Luke's notebook became filled with colors and ideas he intended to hound the professor with later… And yet… he knew there was something he was missing—there had to be something in the way the puzzle was worded. Some sort of hint as to what that color was, what the answer was…

Luke tapped his pencil against his chin, glancing at the teacher who marched about in front of the class with a sigh. The man was babbling on about the history of America, and how the English military had been put into action when they attempted to declare independence. All stuff he'd heard about before- that teacher really liked to ramble about anything pertaining to Britain's military…

"Britain…" Luke froze, then glanced down at his textbook- the one he'd been ignoring all class—as if to double check himself. There was a picture of an old painting in the corner, some men standing up and holding a flag. "A man walks into a British pet store…" In hindsight, that was far too specific to not have meant something. The answer was obvious after all.

Luke bounced on the edge of this seat for the rest of class, and the moment the bell rang he booked it out the door. He wasn't sure he'd ever run so quickly back to the Professor's apartment, wasn't so sure he'd ever so quickly kicked off his shoes and tossed aside his bookbag. But the ungentlemanly manner of it all didn't matter right then, because he had solved the puzzle.

"Professor, I've solved it!" He burst through the door to the man's office, doubling over and taking a moment to pant wildly before excitedly explaining, "The colors of the British flag are red, white, and blue. If a red color would go with black fur, a white collar would go with brown fur, then there's only one color a British pet shop would have to go with white fur!" Straightening himself up, Luke beamed proudly at his mentor.

But the smile quickly slid off his face before he could give his final answer.

On the Professor's desk, happlily lapping up a cup of tea, stood a certain tiny white cat.

A certain tiny white cat that was wearing a blue collar.

Luke felt all the color drain from his cheeks, and he stood there gaping, the delighted answer all but fleeing from his mind as he now pondered over a new puzzle. For as the professor smiled softly and stroked behind the kitten's ears, Luke realized exactly how well that blue collar went with that freshly groomed white fur….

"Professor…" He began slowly, "How long have you known?"

"Hmm, I wonder." The man chuckled, and there was a long moment before he finally lifted his gaze to meet that of his apprentice. To Luke's surprise however, there was no disapproval in his gaze, no disappointment or anger… In fact, he looked rather amused.

"I suspected you were hiding something from the beginning." He began, "And I was quite worried about it being something serious too, until Miss Emmy ended up joining in on your endeavor. From there I was able to rule out bullying or blackmail from school— she'd tell me if it was that- which meant something much less nefarious was at play. A relief, to be sure…" The man's voice trailed off, and his gaze shifted once more back towards the cat. "I had suspicions about what was going on, of course, but I didn't piece together that such a delightful creature was under my roof until I saw fur in my cup of tea the other day—the one that you claimed to have drank-" Luke couldn't help but chuckle weakly at that, "—and from there I simply waited until the two of you were out of the house before seeking out your furry friend myself."

"However, there is one part of the puzzle I haven't figured out." The professor looked at his apprentice once more and tilted his head, "Luke my dear boy… Why wouldn't you simply tell me what was going on? I know I've made it clear that you can't simply take in every stray you see, but surely you wouldn't think me adverse to helping an animal with a sprained paw?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it does sound silly, doesn't it, Professor?" Both boys turned to see Emmy standing in the doorway to the office, wearing a sheepish smile. "I let myself in-" She added, "-but I can let myself back out if that silly reasoning cost me my job, because it's the best we've got... we just couldn't take risks with the little guy, y'know?"

For a moment, there was silence, save for the kitten lapping at its tea, while all eyes stared at the professor's assistant, who shifted uncomfortably. Then Luke leapt to his feet, placing himself between her and the Professor.

"You can't fire her!" He exclaimed, eyes wide, "She was just trying to help me- it's my fault! I should've just been honest in the first place and she wouldn't have gotten involved—"

"—What are you talking about?" Emmy cut him off before he could say more, "I got involved on my own terms—you had nothing to do with it, second assistant!"

"Yes I did!" Luke insisted, "Second assistant or not, if you lose your job it'll be my fault!"

"Now now, calm down the both of you!" Any retort was quelled by the Professor's firm tone, who rose from his desk to approach the duo, looking rather exasperated.

"No one's getting fired, goodness! I daresay you've already punished yourselves enough over the past week!" He took a deep breath, and his gaze softened as he continued. "The both of you should have been honest, but I cannot fault you for wishing to help a creature in need. And really, I didn't tell you right away when I found out either, so we're quite even, wouldn't you agree?"

Emmy and Luke shared a glance, then looked back at the professor.

"I suppose that's true…" Luke conceded.

"But why did you keep it a secret, Professor?" Emmy blinked in confusion.

"Well," The man chuckled, "It was the first time I'd ever seen you two work so diligently together without bickering. Truly, I was curious to see how far you'd go, and I must say I'm quite impressed. You've both proven yourselves dedicated to each other, and any task at hand that you put your mind to—in fact, I'd say this little cat was quite the bonding experience for the two of you." His smile widened at how bashful they abruptly became, how they both crossed their arms and turned away from one another, but he tuned out their incoherent mumblings to take the kitten that sat on his desk into his arms.

"Now now, none of that." He said, approaching them once more, "You'll need to cooperate to make sure this little one gets proper care."

"What?" Emmy blinked, dropping her pout to look at the professor in confusion, then at the cat he held in his arms. Luke looked equally as confused.

"You don't mean…"

"I'm certainly not attempting to spring a puzzle on you two." The professor replied, offering the kitten to his assistant with a chuckle, "I had assumed the collar would be self-explanatory. This young cat has proven to be an asset to the household, and I daresay too cute to give up. With how well you two have been taking care of it, returning it to the wild would be cruel…" He put a hand on his hip, "However, this means you must keep up its care, understand?"

"Yes of course, Professor." Emmy looked at the cat she held, and finally managed a smile, "I guess all that's left is to name it…" She looked at Luke. "Any ideas, second apprentice?"

Luke rolled his eyes, then put a hand to his chin. But really, after everything they'd gone through, all the trials and tribulations, the relief and the fear… Well, the answer was rather obvious.

"How about… Riddle?"

They all agreed the name was fitting… After all, taking care of a new family member had been a riddle in and of itself…

But the professor sincerely hoped it'd go more smoothly from here on out now that he was in the know. Riddles with four legs could apparently tire anyone out, no matter how true a gentleman one was.

-XXXX-

The End

*Bad puns aside, this is actually true—the caffeine in soda can help expand blood vessels, which can relieve some types headaches. Did you know?

The cat in this story is actually supposed to be the white cat we see outside the Professor's Apartment in the beginning of Eternal Diva. I tried not to give it a gender for that reason!

Thanks so much for reading guys! Lots of love to you!