Elaine liked Dr. Breannan when the reason for them to be in the same room together wasn't being done. He was capable of being charismatic and while they didn't have anything in common too much, he was still a good talker. However when it came to those appointments that Elaine grudgingly went to, she loathed him deeply.

She wasn't sure how she had a love-hate feeling towards the therapist, but she did. Come to think of it, she wasn't too sure if she even fully liked him. Tolerated felt a bit more accurate. It felt wrong to consider she liked him only to drop down to tolerating, but that's how it felt to her whenever she enters his office every Tuesday and Thursday morning. They would have a friendly talk, before they would have to get to the reason for her being here. Although for both of them it was for different reasons. Dr. Breannan so he could try to help Elaine after her ordeal of being held captive for a year, and Elaine so she could return to work.

"So, how would you have described the relationships in the house?" Elaine raised a questioning eyebrow as she sat on the worn couch. Dr. Breannan, a man only about ten years older than herself (Though he looked a little older), sat in a just as worn armchair across from her.

"Relationships?"

"You said he had a butler, yes?"

"Well, yeah."

"So how would you describe the relationships in the house?"

"I don't see what that 'as to do with anything." Elaine muttered as she folded her arms. "But I never 'ad any problems with Raymond. I didn't talk to 'im too much but we did every now and then. I guess we were a bit more then neutral towards one another."

"And, Descole?"

"I… Guess the two of them got along…"

"No, no." Dr. Breannan shuck his head. "I meant between you and him. How would you describe your relationship to him?"

"'E kidnapped me, what do you think?!" Elaine sneered as she glanced to her watch. Just a half hour to go, and she could continue on her way to work.

"Well frankly, I'd like to hear you say it." This was said in a dry tone. Elaine rubbed her face before sighing.

"I don't know… It was… Difficult, maybe?"

"Difficult how?"

"I don't know. I just felt that way. I'm just guessing."

"Did he ever tell you anything personal about himself?" Elaine thought this question over in her mind before shaking her head. He never revealed anything personal. Everything she knew was just simply a case of her being at the right place at the right time (Or the opposite depending on the situation and how you wanted to view it).

"Non. As far as I recall, 'e never did. Not surprising though." Dr. Breannan raised an eyebrow.

"Care to explain?"

"'E's a wanted criminal. Why reveal personal details?" Elaine scoffed.

"Do you know if he had any family?"

"… No."

"Were you intimidated by him?"

"I wouldn't use that word." Elaine mumbled. "I just… You 'ad to be careful around 'im on occasion."

"So you were uneasy around him then?"

"Can you ask something else?" Dr. Breannan sighed in frustration, and Elaine couldn't help but feel slightly smug, even if there was a little guilt. Right now, she would be happy to admit to having a, 'spitfire' attitude as some would put it.

"Fine. Did you ever feel a sense of, say… loyalty to him? Did you ever feel anything positive towards him?" Elaine gave a small frown as she thought the question over.

"… 'Onestly, I'm not too sure."

When Elaine stepped into her office less than an hour later, she smiled at the familiarity. One wall an entire bookshelf of books while the opposite wall had a large corkboard with so many notes, details and copies of diagrams pinned to it that the light brown of the board could only be seen in tiny spaces here and there. The filing cabinet next to it was stuff with papers. The only other furniture was a small couch for guests against the wall under the corkboard along with a coffee table in front of it and a gramophone next to it, and of course her desk (Which had several books, papers and both used and unused pens littered across it) which was against the wall across from the door, under the window.

That thought kept Elaine from moving in at first. She hadn't remembered until now that both she and Descole had their desks positioned under windows. But she pushed that thought aside and stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She only paused to look at herself in the mirror to adjust her white shirt, and making sure loose hair hadn't fallen out of her semi-bun hair. Satisfied, she sat at her desk and brushed her inky blue skirt down.

She just sat there at first. Enjoying being back in one of her personal sanctuaries. It wasn't fancy. But being somewhere to call her own was something.

Elaine grabbed a few papers she had to look at. Her young assistant Joseph had apparently taken care of as much paper work as he could have. Strange he wasn't here yet. He was usually here before or just a few minutes after she would arrive. It didn't really matter though. Right now, she would just look over the papers. Just to make sure everything was in order of course. Not to mention if she found anything that had yet to be taken care of, she would take care of it.

It was good to keep her mind busy.

An hour later, and her phone rang. Elaine nearly jumped. She really should have put a little jazz on. Then maybe the ringing wouldn't have shocked her so. She also should probably move the phone to the coffee table and not her desk.

"Bonjour?" Elaine spoke after picking the receiver up.

"Elaine? It's Darcy." Elaine smiled. It was good to see her friend received her message.

"Darcy, it's good to 'ear from you. I take it you got my message, oui?"

"You said you wanted help with something, so can you tell me what it is?" Darcy always was straight to the point.

"Oui, I was wondering if you could look up a name for me. Maybe compile a list and send it to me."

"Of someone who's died?"

"You still work with the dead, don't you?" Elaine wasn't trying to sound rude. But it just sort of slipped.

"I do, but why do you need my help for exactly?" Elaine paused briefly to remind herself of the lie she had prepared beforehand.

"We're expecting a model of an artefact, but the creator died at some point. I don't know much about 'er other than 'er name being Lucy. S."

There was a small silence. Elaine wondered if Darcy was taking notes or just unsure.

"This… Sounds kind of suspicious."

"I can assure you, there is no foul play of any sort."

"But why ask me?"

"It's too complicated to explain." Elaine replied shortly. "But can you do it?"

"… I'll… See what I can do. It might be a bit tricky getting the details out to you. But I'll get a list and send it to you. Any idea when Lucy died?" Elaine paused before nodding to herself.

"I think… Somewhere in the last five years? That sounds like a good enough timeframe."

"Okay." Darcy mumbled, a faint scratching of pen on paper heard. "I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try. Any other information I can add?"

"… I think she might 'ave been pregnant. I'm not too sure."

"Right. Got it. I'll send it you in the post, yes?"

"Oui, thank you. 'Ave a good day." Elaine put the receiver back down. A part of her felt a bit wrong to be doing this. Like maybe she should have just told the police officers in Scotland Yard about the picture of Lucy. But something just kept her from doing that. So this was the next best thing. She wasn't sure why she was so interested in Lucy. It was just simple curiosity. But Elaine had a determination to find out.

Not much time had passed when her phone rang again. Elaine looked at it first before finally picking the receiver up for the second time that day.

"Bonjour?"

"Hello, Elaine. It's Professor Layton speaking." Elaine was surprised to hear the Professor's voice. She didn't recall giving him a phone number.

"It's… Nice to 'ear you, Professeur. No offense, but 'ow did you get my office number?"

"I called Chappy, and once I explained my reason for calling he was happy to help."

"Ah."

"Honestly, I'm quite surprised you've returned to work now. Not that I'm trying to suggest anything, but I would have thought you might leave it a little longer."

"Nonsense. Work is good. Keeps me busy. Keeps me from thinking."

"If you say so." Elaine could faintly tell from his voice that the Professor didn't sound too sure of those words. "But… If you ever wish to talk, myself and Emmy are willing to listen. We could meet over tea?"

"Merci, Monsieur." Elaine replied. "That does sound lovely." There was a pause before Elaine spoke. "So… The reason you called me is…?"

"Ah, yes." The Professor's voice sounded a little grave and Elaine's once reasonably nice day was already feeling like it was evaporating. "I thought it would be best to inform you. The police have been searching over the island of Ambrosia for the last couple weeks, on the off chance there might have been someone else there. They were also on the lookout for Descole's body."

"And…" Elaine sat up a little straighter.

"… From what has been and not been found, evidence strongly suggests that Descole had survived the fall."

"What?! But… 'Ow?!" Elaine was surprised that she hadn't screamed or yelled.

"From the looks of it, he either managed to grab onto one of the tree branches or fell into a river. It's hard to pinpoint the exact location he fell in. But it would appear that he is very likely alive."

"… I see." Elaine said calmly.

"Is there anything I could do for you, Elaine?"

"… When do you and Emmy want to meet up for tea?"

"Elaine?"

"Petit Luke can join us as well." Elaine added as on hand went through the papers and such on her desk until she found her planner. It might have been out of date now, but no good wasting paper.

"Well… Would next Thursday suit you?"

"Oui. It's perfect, oui." Elaine said as she made a quick note of it.

"Alright, but are…"

"I'm sorry, but I 'ave to go now, Professeur."

"… I understand. So I'll see you next Thursday then?"

"Oui. Thank you for calling. Adieu." Elaine hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair.

She was strangely glad to hear Descole was alive. She had felt responsible to some degree for him falling off the Detra-gigant and to know that she didn't have blood on her hands felt like a huge relief for her conscience. That worry was gone.

But now was a new worry. Descole was alive. He was somewhere out there. Likely plotting his next scheme, with a side plot that possibly involved making her pay. Elaine would be more surprised if Descole didn't seek some sort of vengeance on her after what happened. Elaine looked out her window as she clicked her tongue. Maybe she was worrying herself too much. What were the odds of Descole finding out where she lived exactly? Just as he never mentioned personal details, neither had Elaine so if Descole was going to track her down, it would likely be a challenge.

But he seemed like the type of man who enjoyed a challenge. All for the glory of conquering it.

OMAKE THEATER Theatre: Where Layton characters are chibi-fied!

Chapter 1 of Elliella

Once upon there was a very pretty French girl named Elaine. But since this story is meant to be something like Cinderella, she will be called Elliella. Anyway, she was a very pretty girl with a widowed father. Her father, wanting to have a woman in his life and a mother for his daughter, decided to marry a gorgeous blonde woman named Antonia.

However, it was only on the wedding night that he realised his mistake. Antonia was actually a man named Anton. A very, very pretty man he was. Elliella's father supposed he should have seen the first clue when 'Antonia' had appeared completely flat chested, even in that unusually tight wedding dress. Either way, the shock was enough to kill him. Anton was pissed because for one, he did get any ass and since he wasn't into necrophilia (It was SO last year), he ended up horny and grumpy and unable to find cheap male prostitutes.

True, he legally got all the money, but now he was saddled with Elliella! He already had two brats from his previous, totally-non-black-widow-style marriages, Claire and Angela. And what was worse was that none of them were as fabulous as himself!

So, because he was totally thinking in a smart way, he had Elliella wear servants' clothes and had the other two dress up nicely in hopes they would become mean and that the meaness would turn them ugly! Obviously that didn't work so it just left Anton annoyed and pissed.

"ELLIELLA!" Anton shrieked. "I want a pedicure, manicure, my eyebrows trimmed, my files on people I stalk sorted, the horses fed, the mice caught and skinned so I can make little coats for my finger puppets project, the cheats for the puzzles in the first Professor Layton Trilogy, Belgium chocolate and Fungi the dolphin to be put in the pound!" Elliella stared at him.

"… Um… I can do everything except the mice and the dolphin."

"WHAT?!"

"Well that mouse thing is just creepy and Fungi is in Ireland, and I'm pretty sure it would die in the pond."

"JUST DO IT!" Anton stomped out, his dress swishing as he did so.

That's right. Anton has taken to wearing dresses. Don't act so surprised. You knew deep down he was into it.

Elliella sighed as she got a phone to book Anton's appointment at the local salon. She was going nowhere NEAR his toes!

"Is, um… 'Mother' alright?" Claire asked wearily as she entered the room.

"I think it's ''er' time of month." Elliella muttered as she waited for the salon to answer.

Meanwhile, in the castle owned by the royal family.

"DAMN IT! THAT'S THE THIRD TIME THIS MONTH!"

King Bronev was getting pissy at his three prince sons; Descole, Randall and Hershel. In order of oldest to youngest.

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE A GRANDFATHER IF YOU THREE KEEP SAYING NO TO POTENTIAL BRIDES?!"

"They kept touching me. I didn't like it." Hershel said.

"I DON'T CARE!"

"Why do you want to be a grandfather anyway?" Descole questioned in a bored voice.

"The same reason as any other parent. So I can adore cute, little kids that are related to me, but not have to pay for expenses and take too much responsibility." Bronev replied simply. Randall pouted as he folded his arms.

"Well I'm sort of trying something like that." Bronev rubbed his face in exasperation.

"Having sex and then dumping every potential bridge, does not count Randall. Not unless you plan to get into polygamy and marry all of them."

"I think that's illegal in this country."

"Then find one damn bride and stick to her!"

"Can we go? I'm bored of this nonsense and I want to go back to my lab." 'Where I'm working on something to destroy you, you selfish, old fu-'

"That's it!" Bronev slammed his hands the arm rests of his throne. "There's going to be a dance! If you don't each find a girl by the end of that night, I'm going to marry you off to…" Bronev paused before hissing. "Them!"

"Them?" The three princes questioned, giving looks between 'What is he on?' and 'Are you serious?'

"Yes. Them." Bronev pointed to red curtains which were then drawn back by a servant. All three young men backed away in horror. Behind the curtains were a tank filled with Mary Sues of all kinds. Some which belonged to entirely different fandoms. They were squealing, slobbering and pressing their breasts against the glass of the tank.

Even Randall, the playboy of the three, was terrified.

"Mary Sues. Specially broken out of fanfiction prison just for this." Bronev strode over, and placed a single hand on the glass. "No matter how horrible the person, they will be too horny to care and will be determined to have sex with that person if it's the last thing they'll do." Bronev looked to the quivering princes. Well, Hershel and Randall were quivering. Descole was standing very still, eyes looking at the tank wearily. "I think the message is clear. Marry a girl you meet at the next ball. OR them." Bronev jerked his head towards the tank. "The choice is yo-"

But before Bronev could finish, one of the crazed girls' hands broke through the glass and grabbed onto Bronev's hair. Bronev proceeded to scream like a little girl.

"OH GOD IT'S GOT ME! RESCUE ME FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!"

"… Screw you. I'm going back to my lab." Descole drawled before turning to leave. Randall and Hershel soon followed suit.

"YOU SELFISH FUCKS!"