storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-01-07 03:06 pm
storypaint) wrote2009-01-07 03:06 pm
Who Wear Different Hats (f!Layton/f!Luke)
Title: Who Wear Different Hats
Length: 1170 words
Prompt: Layton/Luke as lesbians for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sky_pirate_tat
Pairing: Layton/Luke
Other: genderbending; PG-ish for upper-body groping
Excerpt: Lucy was used to fielding questions about the professor. People always thought it was strange, two women traveling alone. She knew what to say, of course. "The Professor's hat really belongs to her husband," she chirped cheerily, and the inquisition generally ended there. Surely Mr. Layton would up with them at the next stop, the questioner thought. Lucy never said that Mr. Layton was ten years dead.
Lucy was used to fielding questions about the professor. People always thought it was strange, two women traveling alone.
She knew what to say, of course. "The Professor's hat really belongs to her husband," she chirped cheerily, and the inquisition generally ended there. Surely Mr. Layton would up with them at the next stop, the questioner thought.
Lucy never said that Mr. Layton was ten years dead. The hat lent Hendel Layton an air of authority not often given to a woman, even a professor.
In fact, many of the people that the two of them encountered called her Mrs. Layton, as though she hadn't earned any title at all.
Lucy used to correct them, but Hendel told her gently, "It's not ladylike to point out the mistakes of others, Lucy dear."
Lucy huffed, but she listened, because the professor was a woman just like she wanted to be when she grew up. She answered to no one but herself, and she was kind and resourceful. Lucy loved her-- sometimes, she thought, feeling guilty, that she loved Hendel more than she loved her own mother, a silent woman more than willing to hand over her spunky daughter to the near-stranger the professor had been when they'd met.
Lucy wasn't well-educated-- her accent was proof enough of that-- but she had a burning desire to learn. She hadn't hesitated to take Hendel's hand; nor had she regretted it.
"Do you like puzzles, Lucy?" the professor had asked on that first day, watching Lucy skip down the street in front of her, reveling in her shiny new shoes, the unknown future.
"I dunno!" Lucy called back, dodging a puddle.
"You don't know," the professor corrected gently. "A lady uses good diction. Which actually reminds me of a puzzle..."
*
Layton hadn't managed to break Lucy out of the habit of calling her, "Professah!" Probably because secretly, she treasured it. The only people who bothered with the title were grateful to her for something. But Lucy had grown, and learned, and become a lady-- right under Hendel's affectionate gaze.
She'd grown, and that was why she had to leave, a fact that Lucy didn't seem to comprehend.
"I don't want to go home and get married," she said, stomping her foot. Hendel winced. Lucy knew it wasn't ladylike, which was why she did it again.
"I have more to learn from you, Professah," she insisted.
"Lucy dear--"
"Don't 'Lucy dear' me!" she replied angrily, staring up at her tall mistress. But not as far up as she used to, Hendel noticed. She was surprised every minute lately by the stark reality that all these years had passed. Her apprentice had blossomed into womanhood. In fact, she had a larger bosom than she did. Not that Hendel was looking, or anything. That wouldn't be appropriate.
"Lucy, this is for your own good, I'm afraid." Hendel reached up and fiddled with the brim of her dead husband's hat.
Her fabricated dead husband, not that she'd admit it to anyone, even Lucy. There were things a woman like her had to say to get around in polite society. People suspected Gertrude and Alice. They didn't suspect a widow.
She pulled the brim down to hide her eyes, and that's when Lucy started crying.
That was something Hendel couldn't stand, to see her apprentice cry. She reached out and Lucy threw herself into her arms.
"I want to stay with you," Lucy sobbed, and Hendel stroked her hair awkwardly. She wasn't so good at this feelings stuff. Human emotions were the most illogical things.
Because she knew it would be better for Lucy to go, but she wanted her to stay too. Selfish illogic. She wanted Lucy to stop hugging her, but she enjoyed the interesting sensation of breasts pressed against hers.
And perhaps the strangest thing of all-- Lucy had reached up and pulled her hat off, which made Hendel feel utterly naked in the second before Lucy's arm crept up, around Hendel's neck, and she had kissed her.
Lucy was kissing her, full on the mouth, and Hendel was tasting her apprentice's tears, and she was somehow very happy and very sad about this.
"Please," Lucy breathed against Hendel's mouth. "I love you, don't make me leave..."
Hendel held her a moment longer-- too long, really, but her body wasn't listening to her brain very well-- before she let go and stepped back, putting her hands on Lucy's shoulders after retrieving and replacing her hat.
"Maybe I'll visit sometime," she said, seeing Lucy's eyes fill with tears again, feeling them prickling her own eyes.
"Let me..." Lucy said, eyes bright, "let me... just once..."
Her hand crept toward the professor, but the older woman didn't understand what she was doing until the other's small hand touched her breast, and then squeezed gently. There was something ten times worse than a kiss in the way Hendel's body responded, arching to the touch.
"Unf," she said inarticulately, as Lucy's hand wandered over to her other breast. The touch burned like oil through her layers of clothing, making her feel like she was wearing nothing at all. It was utterly exciting and shameful at the same time.
She was the professor-- the mentor-- she couldn't...
"Lucy," she breathed, finally managing to lift her hands and extract herself from the other's grasp, shaking. Lucy was still crying, and so was she, but there was nothing to be done. There was no way for two unmarried women to live together forever, even if... even if they wanted to.
"Make me proud," the professor choked out, handing Lucy her satchel with heavy solemnity, and opening the door. The walk to the oceanfront took no time at all, and the shadow of the boat fell heavily on the departing travelers. The two of them stared at each other for a long time before the light faded from Lucy's eyes.
"Best of luck," she said coldly to her mentor, rubbing furiously at her tearstains. Layton opened her mouth, unsure what to say. Absent-mindedly she fingered the brim of her hat, like she always did when at a loss. Then she had an idea.
She took off the hat and handed it to Lucy, whose sullen expression was replaced by confusion.
"I'll come get it from you in the spring, and you can tell me about your suitors." Hendel smiled, her braid whipped about in the wind.
"You promise?" Lucy whispered, holding the hat gently, and Hendel nodded. She hugged her apprentice for another long moment and hten watched her board the ship.
*
"What's a little girl like you doing with a hat like that?" the sailor at the top of the gangplank asked. Lucy jammed it on her head defiantly.
"That's the hat of the great Professor Layton," she said haughtily, stalking past him-- or trying. He held out an arm.
"Professor Layton, you said?"
"Yes," she replied, guarded.
"She taught my sister in school for a bit," he explained. "She came home with the best puzzles."
Lucy smiled, reaching up to tug at the hat again.
"You want to hear one?" she asked, and the boy smiled.
*
On the wharf, the professor walked away, her head bare, and she wondered what would happen in the spring.
Length: 1170 words
Prompt: Layton/Luke as lesbians for
sky_pirate_tatPairing: Layton/Luke
Other: genderbending; PG-ish for upper-body groping
Excerpt: Lucy was used to fielding questions about the professor. People always thought it was strange, two women traveling alone. She knew what to say, of course. "The Professor's hat really belongs to her husband," she chirped cheerily, and the inquisition generally ended there. Surely Mr. Layton would up with them at the next stop, the questioner thought. Lucy never said that Mr. Layton was ten years dead.
Lucy was used to fielding questions about the professor. People always thought it was strange, two women traveling alone.
She knew what to say, of course. "The Professor's hat really belongs to her husband," she chirped cheerily, and the inquisition generally ended there. Surely Mr. Layton would up with them at the next stop, the questioner thought.
Lucy never said that Mr. Layton was ten years dead. The hat lent Hendel Layton an air of authority not often given to a woman, even a professor.
In fact, many of the people that the two of them encountered called her Mrs. Layton, as though she hadn't earned any title at all.
Lucy used to correct them, but Hendel told her gently, "It's not ladylike to point out the mistakes of others, Lucy dear."
Lucy huffed, but she listened, because the professor was a woman just like she wanted to be when she grew up. She answered to no one but herself, and she was kind and resourceful. Lucy loved her-- sometimes, she thought, feeling guilty, that she loved Hendel more than she loved her own mother, a silent woman more than willing to hand over her spunky daughter to the near-stranger the professor had been when they'd met.
Lucy wasn't well-educated-- her accent was proof enough of that-- but she had a burning desire to learn. She hadn't hesitated to take Hendel's hand; nor had she regretted it.
"Do you like puzzles, Lucy?" the professor had asked on that first day, watching Lucy skip down the street in front of her, reveling in her shiny new shoes, the unknown future.
"I dunno!" Lucy called back, dodging a puddle.
"You don't know," the professor corrected gently. "A lady uses good diction. Which actually reminds me of a puzzle..."
*
Layton hadn't managed to break Lucy out of the habit of calling her, "Professah!" Probably because secretly, she treasured it. The only people who bothered with the title were grateful to her for something. But Lucy had grown, and learned, and become a lady-- right under Hendel's affectionate gaze.
She'd grown, and that was why she had to leave, a fact that Lucy didn't seem to comprehend.
"I don't want to go home and get married," she said, stomping her foot. Hendel winced. Lucy knew it wasn't ladylike, which was why she did it again.
"I have more to learn from you, Professah," she insisted.
"Lucy dear--"
"Don't 'Lucy dear' me!" she replied angrily, staring up at her tall mistress. But not as far up as she used to, Hendel noticed. She was surprised every minute lately by the stark reality that all these years had passed. Her apprentice had blossomed into womanhood. In fact, she had a larger bosom than she did. Not that Hendel was looking, or anything. That wouldn't be appropriate.
"Lucy, this is for your own good, I'm afraid." Hendel reached up and fiddled with the brim of her dead husband's hat.
Her fabricated dead husband, not that she'd admit it to anyone, even Lucy. There were things a woman like her had to say to get around in polite society. People suspected Gertrude and Alice. They didn't suspect a widow.
She pulled the brim down to hide her eyes, and that's when Lucy started crying.
That was something Hendel couldn't stand, to see her apprentice cry. She reached out and Lucy threw herself into her arms.
"I want to stay with you," Lucy sobbed, and Hendel stroked her hair awkwardly. She wasn't so good at this feelings stuff. Human emotions were the most illogical things.
Because she knew it would be better for Lucy to go, but she wanted her to stay too. Selfish illogic. She wanted Lucy to stop hugging her, but she enjoyed the interesting sensation of breasts pressed against hers.
And perhaps the strangest thing of all-- Lucy had reached up and pulled her hat off, which made Hendel feel utterly naked in the second before Lucy's arm crept up, around Hendel's neck, and she had kissed her.
Lucy was kissing her, full on the mouth, and Hendel was tasting her apprentice's tears, and she was somehow very happy and very sad about this.
"Please," Lucy breathed against Hendel's mouth. "I love you, don't make me leave..."
Hendel held her a moment longer-- too long, really, but her body wasn't listening to her brain very well-- before she let go and stepped back, putting her hands on Lucy's shoulders after retrieving and replacing her hat.
"Maybe I'll visit sometime," she said, seeing Lucy's eyes fill with tears again, feeling them prickling her own eyes.
"Let me..." Lucy said, eyes bright, "let me... just once..."
Her hand crept toward the professor, but the older woman didn't understand what she was doing until the other's small hand touched her breast, and then squeezed gently. There was something ten times worse than a kiss in the way Hendel's body responded, arching to the touch.
"Unf," she said inarticulately, as Lucy's hand wandered over to her other breast. The touch burned like oil through her layers of clothing, making her feel like she was wearing nothing at all. It was utterly exciting and shameful at the same time.
She was the professor-- the mentor-- she couldn't...
"Lucy," she breathed, finally managing to lift her hands and extract herself from the other's grasp, shaking. Lucy was still crying, and so was she, but there was nothing to be done. There was no way for two unmarried women to live together forever, even if... even if they wanted to.
"Make me proud," the professor choked out, handing Lucy her satchel with heavy solemnity, and opening the door. The walk to the oceanfront took no time at all, and the shadow of the boat fell heavily on the departing travelers. The two of them stared at each other for a long time before the light faded from Lucy's eyes.
"Best of luck," she said coldly to her mentor, rubbing furiously at her tearstains. Layton opened her mouth, unsure what to say. Absent-mindedly she fingered the brim of her hat, like she always did when at a loss. Then she had an idea.
She took off the hat and handed it to Lucy, whose sullen expression was replaced by confusion.
"I'll come get it from you in the spring, and you can tell me about your suitors." Hendel smiled, her braid whipped about in the wind.
"You promise?" Lucy whispered, holding the hat gently, and Hendel nodded. She hugged her apprentice for another long moment and hten watched her board the ship.
*
"What's a little girl like you doing with a hat like that?" the sailor at the top of the gangplank asked. Lucy jammed it on her head defiantly.
"That's the hat of the great Professor Layton," she said haughtily, stalking past him-- or trying. He held out an arm.
"Professor Layton, you said?"
"Yes," she replied, guarded.
"She taught my sister in school for a bit," he explained. "She came home with the best puzzles."
Lucy smiled, reaching up to tug at the hat again.
"You want to hear one?" she asked, and the boy smiled.
*
On the wharf, the professor walked away, her head bare, and she wondered what would happen in the spring.