III - Raucous

"Lunch time, gentlemen!"

Luke and Hershel both looked up from their respective work—Hershel from his lesson plan, Luke from the math work he had spread out across the carpet. Emmy stood in the doorway, two massive paper bags resting against each hip and a broad grin splashed across her face.

"I know you two must be famished," she said. "You've been hard at work all day. So I decided to treat you both! Aren't I wonderful?"

Was it time for lunch already? Hershel shot the clock on his desk a mildly irritated look as Emmy swept into the room. Perhaps he ought to consider investing in alarm clocks. He was beginning to realize exactly how often time slipped away from him, and the realization was not an entirely pleasant one.

One of the brown paper bags landed in front of Hershel's nose, blocking his view to the clock. He lifted an eyebrow at Emmy's smug smirk. "The cafeteria is barely a minute's walk from here, you know."

"I know," Emmy said. "But we always eat at the cafeteria. It gets so boring." She flipped Luke's textbook shut with the toe of her boot. "I can spend my wages on whatever I please, and if I want to buy lunch, you can't exactly stop me, can you?"

"I suppose not," Hershel said, resignation coloring his voice.

He unrolled the top of the paper bag and peered inside. The smell of fresh deli meat wafted up out of the bag, and his stomach gave a quiet rumble in response. Behind him, Luke cleared his homework out of her way with a sweep of his arm, and Emmy set her second bag on the carpet where his papers had been.

Hershel turned to give them a critical look. Emmy lifted her eyebrows. "What?"

"You could at least use the sofa," he said. "It's there for a reason."

"But then we'd get crumbs all over it," Luke said. He had already pulled out an apple and an absolutely massive sandwich, and sat with both balanced in his lap. "Or ketchup! Mum always says ketchup is impossible to get out of furniture."

"It isn't any easier to get out of the cracks in the floor," Hershel responded dryly. "Especially if it stains the wood. Rosa will have your hides for this."

Emmy rolled her eyes skyward. "Well, if you would get over here with our plates and napkins, it wouldn't be so much of a problem, now, would it?"

Hershel opened his bag again and examined its contents more fully. Paper plates, a stack of napkins, plastic cups, a bottle of soda, and of course, his own sandwich (not nearly as impressive as Luke's, but still of respectable size). Emmy removed a second soda bottle from her own bag, along with a plastic tray. She set it on the carpet and spread it with the remaining food—a few more apples, some pears, and a full bunch of bananas.

Hershel bit back a quiet sigh. "I appreciate the thought, Emmy, but doesn't this seem a bit excessive?"

"Oh, come off it, Professor!" Luke set his already half-eaten sandwich on his knee and reached over to tug at the edge of Hershel's coat. "You're always telling me that a true gentleman never turns down a gift. So come eat with us!"

"We do still need our plates," Emmy said. "If you're going to be stubborn, at least hand us our things!"

Hershel was growing altogether too accustomed to peer pressure from these two. It had made him uncomfortable at first, with both of them teaming up to drag him in whatever direction they willed. Now he returned their wide-eyed stares with a level look of his own, one eyebrow quirked upward (though a small smile tugged at his lips as Luke took a large bite of his sandwich without lowering his eyes).

Hershel finally let out a sigh. "I suppose you won't let me eat in peace if I don't, will you?"

"Of course not," Emmy said with a smirk. "What sorts of assistants would we be if we did?"

Hershel picked up his bag and joined the two of them on the floor. Luke had already finished his sandwich by that point. Emmy tossed him a banana and peeled one for herself, leaning back against the sofa.

Luke pulled open Emmy's paper bag, but it was empty. His brows furrowed. "Didn't you get anything, Emmy?"

Emmy scoffed. "Of course I did! I wasn't about to haul it all the way back here before digging in, though." She slapped her palm against her stomach. "All that legwork requires fuel!"

"Don't you have a scooter?" Luke asked.

Emmy scowled at him, and at Hershel when he began to chuckle. "That's not the point!" she snipped. "Honestly! I spend my hard-earned time and money on you two, and all you can do is insult me? Ingrates, the lot of you!"

Luke giggled hard enough to nearly choke on his apple. Emmy threw her banana peel at him, but her eyes sparkled with sharp amusement. In the bickering and chaos that followed, Hershel was the only one who noticed his office door swing open, and sent the woman standing in the door an apologetic smile.

"Good afternoon, Rosa."

All motion ceased. Rosa put her hands on her hips, broom leaning against one shoulder, and scanned the room with critical eyes. Hershel could sense her ticking each box on her mental list as her eyes swept from one side to the other. Luke and Emmy followed her progress with wide eyes, shoulders tensed against the overwhelming weight of silence. She scratched at her hair beneath her white bandana and sighed, shaking her head.

"I'll never get this room properly cleaned," she said, "will I? You lot are always finding new and interesting ways to dirty everything." She pointed her mop at Hershel. "It was bad enough when you were here on your own! Now you've got children mucking about as well!"

"Hey!" Luke and Emmy protested simultaneously. They blinked at each other, and Hershel couldn't hold back his smile.

"I'm very sorry about this," Hershel said, gathering up the few things his assistant and apprentice hadn't yet knocked over. "Don't worry yourself about it. We'll sweep this up ourselves."

"Oh, will you now?" Rosa said. She snorted in derision. "Not likely! You'll go off gallivanting somewhere else, and I'll have to come in and do it over anyway. You always did miss the crumbs that fell into the cracks."

Hershel tugged at the brim of his hat, his cheeks gone warm as Emmy and Luke shot him amused looks. "Are you absolutely certain? We did make this mess, after all. Best if we clean it up."

Rosa tutted and bustled into the room, but there was a smile on her wide face. "Oh, go on with you. If it weren't for the constant mess in this office, I'd be out of a job."

"Constant mess?" Hershel protested, but his voice was nearly lost beneath the sniggers of his companions.

Rosa drew herself up to her full height (only to Hershel's chest, but the result was still impressive). "Do you take me for a liar or a layabout, Professor? You might be a leading authority in your field, but I don't need a doctorate to be an expert in mine. And I can tell you without a doubt, your office is the result of a rare combination of genius, obsession, and devotion to his students: Messy, messy, messy!" She punctuated the last few words with a short jab of her broom to Hershel's chest. "Now, if you don't mind too terribly, I have a floor to scrub before the ketchup stains set in. So get out, all of you! Out!"

Luke and Emmy leaped to their feet and scrambled for the door. Hershel lingered and attempted to object, but Rosa spun him around and sent him out his own door with a good whack of her broom to the back of his thigh. She slammed the door shut behind him and clicked the lock shut.

Emmy and Luke sagged against the wall and laughed until tears streamed down their cheeks. Hershel pursed his lips and sent them both a mild look. "And what, exactly, are you two laughing at?"

"She's practically your mother!" Luke had his arms curled around his stomach, barely able to speak around his convulsive laughter. "Kicked us out of your own office! So she could clean!"

"If I didn't know better," Emmy chortled, "I'd say you were afraid of her!"

Hershel sighed. He straightened his coat and tugged at the brim of his hat until he was certain he had regained at least some of his dignity. "It seems," he said over his companions' commotion, "we'll have to find something else to do until Rosa sees fit to return my office to me. I suppose now is as good a time as ever to explore the student gardens you wanted to see, Luke?"

Luke cheered and threw his fists in the air. "Thank you, Rosa!" he called through the door, and then darted off down the hallway. Emmy followed after him, hollering at him to slow down. Did he even know the way to the gardens? He was going to get lost in this place, and no one would come find him, because he deserved it.

Hershel followed at a more sedate pace. He apologized to fellow staff members who sent irate or amused looks out of their office doors, and picked up his pace as soon as he left the office wing behind. After all, Emmy didn't know her way to the gardens, either. And with the meal they'd just eaten, whatever powers that were only knew how far they would get before tiring out and realizing they were both utterly hopeless.