#layfic

“Oh, hey, Prof! Look at this,” Lucy said. She waved a bunch of mistletoe around. “Some bloke on the street was selling it. Isn’t it a perfect decoration?”

“Sorry, Baker, but the Mystery Room is a strictly mistletoe-free zone,” Alfendi replied. Lucy made some sort of sputtering noise in protest. She opened her mouth to speak, but Alfendi put up a finger.

“Before you say anything,” he said, “Let me explain. Reason one: we really have enough decorations.” At this he pointed to the rather obtrusive plastic tree on Lucy’s desk.

“Reason two,” he continued. “Life is awkward enough without the possibility of being caught under mistletoe with your coworkers. And finally, reason three: last time I tried hanging mistletoe in here, there were some really scarring experiences for everyone involved.”

“Oh.” Lucy took her foot off of the stepladder. “But… it really completes the decorations! And we can make new memories with it!” She gestured to the generous amounts of tinsel and lights strung around almost every object in the room. “Look how well it would go with my tree!”

At that moment, Alfendi realized what Lucy’s true motive was. Or at least suspected. At the time he was about 93.7 percent sure that Lucy wanted to get caught with Katrielle under the mistletoe.

Contrary to Katrielle’s belief, he knew it wasn’t just platonic interest when she asked him for Lucy’s mobile number. Or when they went to dinner together- without him as a middleman. Nonetheless, both women denied that anything was going on whenever he broached the subject.

“You know what? Let’s do it,” he said. Would it be so bad to help a friend out? “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Lucy jumped right back on the stepladder. “Thanks, Prof! This will be the best December ever!”

In the end, the mistletoe really caused more problems than he expected. Cut to December 10th. Over a week had passed without any mistletoe incidents, though it had hung over every person to pass through the Mystery Room door.

He supposed he had been in a bit of a rush that morning. He overslept, his own coffee machine was broken, the local coffee shop was crowded, and to top it all off, traffic was hell.

So when Alfendi ran into the Mystery Room that morning, he didn’t realize Lucy was crossing the threshold at the same time he was.

The two hit each other and stumbled to the floor. Alfendi sat up, and saw that Lucy was just laying facedown on the floor.

“Lucy? Are you alright?” he asked. “Uh, sorry- here.” He stood and offered her his hand. Lucy looked up at him. Her eyes were bright with mischief. She took his hand and planted a kiss on the palm.

He raised his eyebrows. “Why, Lucy. I hardly think-”

“Look, Prof!” She quickly stood up before he could say anything more. “Mistletoe, remember?”

“...Ah.”

“Nothing like that, silly. You miss your alarm this morning too?”

And the day continued. That was the first time the mistletoe had caused a problem, albeit a minor one, but it wasn’t to be the last.

The next mishap happened only two days later. Alfendi was showing Emiliana Perfetti from her division to his own in preparation for a case they would be collaborating on. Emiliana was a rather fast walker for her height, and he struggled to keep up as she breezed through the halls. He managed to get through the door at the same time she did, not realizing his mistake.

“Caught you!” said Lucy from her desk. She crossed her arms. “Another person at last!”

“What?” Emiliana said, in that disturbingly calm voice of hers. “I don’t understa- oh.” Her gaze followed Alfendi’s to the mistletoe above them. “Ms. Baker, if you think I’m going to go along with your scheme, I am afraid that you’re sorely mistaken.”

Alfendi took her hand. “Don’t worry, Perfetti. It’s nothing personal. If I may?”

She nodded reluctantly. “If only because you have been competent so far on this case of ours… And I suppose I could do with a bit of Christmas spirit.”

Alfendi ducked down to quickly peck the back of her hand. “There. Now, Lucy, if you’ll allow us to work..”

He thought that was that. The first true bout of awkwardness the mistletoe had caused was over, and hopefully no more would occur. He was proven wrong, however, when the very person Lucy was hoping for came through the door two hours later with her assistant.

“Hey, Al!” Katrielle said. “Why are you looking at me and Ernest like that? You’re sort of… glaring above our heads?”

“I would suggest that you both look up.” Oh, this was bad. Bad for Lucy, anyway. Maybe good for that assistant of Kat’s. At least Lucy was out on business at that moment.

Katrielle and Ernest looked up at the same time. Katrielle grinned and kissed Ernest on the cheek before he could comprehend what was happening.

“Oh… Miss Layton…” Ernest said as a blush rose to his cheeks. He looked oddly similar to a tomato in that moment, Alfendi thought.

He directed his glare at his sister. In the space of a few seconds, they had a silent exchange.

Alfendi twisted his face into an expression that inexplicably said “Stop leading him on.”

Now Katrielled raised her own eyebrows. “I’m really not,” the face said.

“Oh, really? What about the fact that you’re very much not interested in men, yet just kissed the one hopelessly in love with you?” was the silent reply. Or something along those lines. It was a difficult thing to convey without words, but Katrielle got the message.

She looked away. Now she was blushing.

“Anyway,” Alfendi said with a pointed look at Katrielle, “What’re you here for?”

“Um, a- a c-c-ase,” Katrielle stuttered. “Definitely not a specific person or anything! Nope! Just a detective and her trusty very platonic assistant!”

“Alright, fill me in.”

In retrospect, maybe Alfendi shouldn’t have let his little sister off the hook so easily. Maybe he should’ve called her later to get her to confess her feelings. But he figured it was for her and Ernest and Lucy to work out, not him.

The next time it happened was the 21st day of December.

Lucy and Alfendi were working in silence, finishing up some paperwork that needed doing. The door creaked and Lucy looked up, presumably hoping to see Katrielle.

“Hi, Hilda,” she said. Alfendi looked up. Indeed, Hilda Pertinax stood in front of him, intimidating as ever.

“Ah, Ms. Pertinax. I’ve been expecting you,” he said.

“Alfendi Layton. Don’t tell me you forgot today was the solstice, you prick.” She was wearing her signature coat properly today, accompanied by what Alfendi assumed was a fashionable scarf wrapped around her neck. She looked almost like the angel on top of Lucy's tacky tree, golden hair floating around her shoulders.

“I resent that! I did not forget, thank you! Or did you not hear me say I’ve been expecting you?” Alfendi replied.

“Hmph. Oh, and Lucy. Merry Christmas, dear. Or whatever.” Hilda rooted around in her purse and drew out a gift card to a popular cafe chain. She gave it to Lucy.

“Thanks much, Hilda. You really didn’t have to do anything for me, y’know…” Lucy said. “What’s this about then?”

“Al and Justin and I have always celebrated the winter solstice together. It became a tradition- one Al always forgets about, might I add- since our first year of uni. The snow was awful that year, no trains going anywhere, so we had to stay at school. And now, well, we get lunch and give each other cheap gifts,” Hilda said.

“I actually spent more than ten pounds on your present this year, so mine better be good. Anyway, the lunch hour is ticking away, so let’s get out of here,” Alfendi said. He stood up and went to put on his coat. “Any interest in tagging along, Lucy?”

“Work awaits, as per th’ usual, Prof,” she replied.

“Alright, well, see you later.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucy twirled her pen in her fingers as Hilda and Alfendi started to leave. He really wasn’t expecting it when Lucy yelled “Wait!” It was an extremely loud yell- one she usually reserved for when she solved cases.

“Godamnit, Lucy!” he said. “What was that for?”

She silently pointed to the top of the doorway. The odd couple looked up.

“Of course,” Hilda said. “And here I thought you learned your lesson about mistletoe.”

“I have learned. It was Lucy’s idea,” Alfendi grumbled.

“Rules are rules, Prof,” Lucy said. “Two people end up under the mistletoe, they hafta kiss.”

Hilda put on a dry smile. “Shall we? For old times sake?”

“Hmph. Back when you thought you liked men and I thought I didn’t. Come here, then,” he said. And they kissed. Rather too passionately for friends, Lucy thought, but she supposed they did have a history. She watched as they walked away, both laughing as Alfendi tried to get Hilda’s lipstick off of his face.

After the solstice incident, Alfendi was genuinely worried that Lucy’s plan would never come to fruition. Every time Kat had come into their workplace that month had been a bad one, and he knew how much the two needed to resolve their obvious sexual tension.

Eventually, he took matters into his own hands and dialed up his sister.

“Alfendi, can this wait?” said Katrielle’s voice, tinny through his phone.

“I know you aren’t busy, shut it. You’re probably just waiting around for a case and playing with Sherl. Am I correct?”

“100 percent,” Kat sighed. “So what can I do for you?”

“I’m also 99 percent sure you won’t be doing anything at the time of the holiday party at the Yard tomorrow. Which you are expected to be at, as usual, and I also need you to be in my office ten minutes early. If you value your safety, don’t ask questions. Just be there,” Alfendi said.

“Al, I really don’t see why-”

“Nope! No questions!” he cut her off. “Be there. You’ll thank me later, I promise.” And Alfendi hung up.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Most of the Yard worked right up until or even on Christmas Day, so the party was always held the day before.

Fifteen minutes before, Alfendi set his trap.

“Lucy, would you do me a favor and stand under the mistletoe? It’s for a case. ‘The Merry Murderer,’ they’re calling it.”

“I s’pose?” Lucy did as he asked. She looked exceedingly confused.

“Thank you. Just… stay there. You’ll see.” Alfendi backed away slowly. He pretended to inspect the case file, being very careful not to look at the open door.

He didn’t have to pretend for long, though. Not five minutes later, Katrielle walked in and stopped next to Lucy.

“Oh! Kat! Good to- er- good to see you!” Lucy said, blushing.

“Alfendi, what is all this about? You better have a good reason for this! I’m actually on time for once.” Katrielle was unusually composed for someone wearing a hat with a puffball on it.

Alfendi turned around and tried to look surprised. “Oh, you’re here. Well. Kat. Kitty. Sister. Katrielle. Look up,” he said, smiling mischievously.

Lucy realized before Kat did. She turned a rather worrying shade of red, not unlike Ernest had.

“Prof! You didn’t- you couldn’t have-”

“Whatever you’re thinking, I didn’t do it. I really did need you there for a case,” Alfendi said, holding up the case file.

Kat glared at him. “You dirty-”

“Ah ah ah. Mistletoe first!”

Alfendi technically discouraged the kissing. He did avert his eyes when Lucy and Katrielle kissed, and shoved them out of the doorway, so if anyone asked, he had no idea what was happening while he was at the party.

And when he got a text from Katrielle the next morning with numerous heart emojis, he knew the mistletoe was probably worth all of the trouble it caused.

end

“Oi, Flo!”

Florence nearly fell onto the floor. Lucy Baker had at some point materialized behind her, and was walking over with a bottle of hand sanitizer.

“It’s cold season, ya know. Gotta stay healthy!” Lucy said. “Nice decorations, by the way.” She touched the few layers of tinsel draped around Florence’s chair. Lucy then handed the family-sized bottle to Florence and disappeared to some dank corner of the small office.

A dry smile appeared on Alfendi’s face. “Lucy, you don’t need to mother everyone who comes in the office,” he said, glancing at the place to which Lucy had disappeared.

“I can and shall, Prof!”

“Much appreciated, Lu,” Florence said with a cursory glance to Lucy’s corner. She turned back to Alfendi and pumped some sanitizer.

“Florence, all I can tell you is that Barton is always at the party, which you know. What’s the real reason you’re here?” said Alfendi.

“I told you. Need a gift. For the Commissioner. Any ideas?”

“And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the new position in forensics opening up?”

“No!” she said, indignant. “If you must know-” Florence leaned as far as she could across the desk and lowered her voice- “I bet Sniffer 20 pounds that I can get Barton the best present ever.”

“That’s really not a big deal. The Commissioner just likes getting gifts, I don’t think he’s that hard to buy for,” said Alfendi. He pulled a snow globe sitting on his desk towards him. It depicted a snowman wearing sunglasses lounging by a sunny shore, and there were assorted beachy snowpeople decorating the base. Florence stared at the relaxing snowman as Alfendi picked up the snow globe and began to turn a key, causing a tinkling rendition of some Christmas standard she didn’t recognize to play.

Florence thought he must be intrigued by her problem if he picked up a snow globe instead of his paperwork. Or maybe just bored, but she really needed the help.

“Please, Al. It’s a matter of pride. Losing a bet to Sniffer Hague? No chance in hell.”

The snow globe stopped playing. Florence finally placed the tune- ‘Jingle Bell Rock.’

Alfendi put it back down on his desk and stood up. “Let’s go,” he said. “We’re getting lunch, then we’re both getting presents for Barton. Lucy, you coming with?”

“Can’t- already have lunch plans,” piped Lucy. She materialized again from whichever corner she was hiding in. She gave her boss an apologetic glance. “Have fun, you two.”

“Bye, Lucy, have fun with your plans,” Florence called over her shoulder. She had already wheeled halfway out the door.

-

“You can always do what I’m doing and get the Commissioner a gift card to a fancy restaurant,” said Alfendi. He was walking next to Florence along the pavement lining the shopping center. A brisk wind blew at the duo’s ponytails as they traversed the multitude of stores. A few inches of snow lay on the ground, turning quickly to slush with all the passers-by.

“We can’t get him the same thing, Al. Then Hague will know you helped.” Florence looked in the window of each store they passed, noting the various Christmas displays. She didn’t note the people staring at her lab coat and dirty face.

Alfendi stuck his hands in his coat pockets. “I don’t know. Writing pad? Fountain pen? Silverware? Gift card to a different fancy restaurant?”

Florence kept her eyes peeled. Skincare, no. Furniture, no. Creepy elf animatronic, a resounding no. Pots and pans-

“Hold it.” She froze.

“What?”

“What if…” She looked up to meet Alfendi’s eyes. “What if I made him food? Like his favorite dessert or something?”

He considered the idea.

“Florence Sich… You are a genius. Nothing Sniffer comes up with can beat that,” Alfendi said. They resumed their walk, this time in the direction of the Yard. Florence stopped gazing into every store display and focused on where she was going.

“What does the Commissioner like?” she asked.

“Hmm. Well, I know he’s not one for delicate dishes. But he loves a good sweet nonetheless. Maybe you could try giving him a pie of some sort?”

“I can’t cook, though. Nor can I bake. Al, any chance you know how to make haute cuisine?” She grimaced.

“I’m decent at baking, but nowhere near as good as you want to be to meet Barton’s standards,” he said, shaking his head. “But I know someone who can help. Do you know my sister Flora? Go see her, she’ll know what to do.”

“I hope so. I need all the help I can get.” The pair had reached Alfendi’s nearby car. They drove back to the Yard in the snow. Never had Florence been more grateful for the coat she had received from one aunt or another at some birthday. It may have been bulky and inconvenient, but it was functional in the old car with a broken heating system.

When they reached their workplace, Florence was no less frazzled than she was when the trip had started. Alfendi reached across her and took a pen and notepad from his glove compartment.

“Here’s the address,” he said, scribbling. “Flora will be there pretty much anytime before 6 pm. Just explain that you need to cook something and she’ll help you out.” He ripped out the piece of paper and offered it to Florence. She accepted the proffered address and made a mental note to stop by the place after work. “Thanks for your help, Al. I’m sure you’ll know whether I’m up 20 pounds or not after the holiday party.”

“Always a pleasure, Florence. Are we still on for coffee with Lucy next week?”

“Yup, yup. Have to go, Al, duty calls.” And with that, Florence was off to work.

-

Florence knocked on the thick wooden door. It was marked by a metal nameplate reading ‘Professor Layton.’

The address Alfendi gave Florence had led her to a small university she had considered applying to in her youth, out in the country. She found herself surrounded by old-fashioned wood and brick and young students milling around the campus. Unfortunately, the old building was filled with dust and rendered her considerably more sneezy than usual.

“Professor Layton?” she called. With no response, she tried the door handle. It was unlocked, so Florence entered. The office was lit warmly, and in a corner Florence noticed a desk. It was considerably neater than the one she had been staring down earlier that day.

Behind the desk sat a woman. Florence couldn’t see her face, as she was slumped over in sleep. Brown hair fanned out over her desk and around her shoulders.

Florence wondered if it would be rude to wake the woman. Probably not, she decided. Flora had looked kind in all the pictures Alfendi had sitting on his desk.

She tapped the woman on the shoulder. “Professor Layton?” she said again. “Professor Layton. Are you alright?” She sneezed into her elbow.

Flora sat up with a start. “What? Hmm?” She rubbed at her eyes. “Pardon me, but who are you?”

“I’m- achoo!- Florence Sich, Professor. I work with Alfendi. I was under the impression you could help me with something. It’s quite nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Oh!” said Flora. She pulled at a piece of hair that had escaped her tight ponytail. “Yes, I do remember a message from Al about that. You need to make the Commissioner a Christmas treat?”

The scientist fiddled with her coat buttons. “Yes… I’ve got a bet that I can get him the best Christmas gift. Achoo!” The place was really quite dusty.

“Bless you! So, what do you have in mind? Last I saw him, the Commissioner favored fruits… how about a fruit tart? That shouldn’t be exceptionally difficult. When can you give it to him?”

“I need it by next Friday. Can you teach me how to bake by then?” Florence asked.

“Let’s see.” Flora turned around in her desk chair to look at a calendar hanging on the wall behind her. “I’m free this Sunday morning at 11. Can you come over then and I’ll teach you? I can have Al send you my home address.”

“Would you really do that? Help me?”

“A true gentlewoman always helps a person in need,” Flora said. “Any friend of Alfendi is a friend of mine anyway. So will I see you on Sunday?”

Florence nodded eagerly. “Yes! I’ll see you then. Thank you so much, Professor. You don’t know how much this helps.”

Flora laughed. “Call me Flora, dear. I’ve made a few wagers in my life. I hope you win this one.”

-

“Gah! Why is baking so difficult?” Florence grimaced at the sight of the sugar all over her hands. She was in Flora’s kitchen, which smelled profusely of vanilla and butter. Flora stood next to her. Ingredients were spread all over the counter and Florence thought she must have a piece of every single one on the apron she had borrowed.

“Focus, Florence,” Flora said. “The cream is the hardest part. Once you get past this it’ll be smooth sailing.”

“I’m just worried about this- achoo!- party,” Florence said. “It’s not about the bet anymore. I actually want to make the Commissioner a nice gift. This year’s been a rough one for the Yard.”

Flora slowly poured cream into her bowl and began to mix with vigor, and Florence copied her. “Try to put all of that behind you. As long as you focus on the baking, I promise you it will turn out well and Commissioner Barton will love it,” said Flora.

“In fact, I was never much for cooking myself when I was young. Alfendi can attest to that. But with a few years of practice and a healthy dose of passion, I was able to make all sorts of good things. I bet it was sort of the same thing for you and detective work, huh?”

Florence sighed, pouring another ingredient in. “Yeah, but I’m a scientist, not a detective. You’d think I’d be good at this, dealing with measurements like I do.”

“Who said you weren’t good at baking?” Flora set down her own bowl and crossed her arms. “Look at what you’ve got there. That’s perfect!”

Florence looked down. “Huh,” she said. Her eyes widened. “Really? Is it okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” Flora said as she pulled their tart shells out of the oven, where they had sat for fifteen minutes. “It’s wonderful. And if you made this on your first try, being nervous, there’s no way you can’t recreate it next week.”

“Thank you!” Florence said. “Professor Layton, you are my Christmas miracle.”

Flora was beaming. “It’s always a pleasure to help, especially during this season! Now let’s finish these tarts!”

The pair finished the next couple steps with minimal difficulty. When they were done, Florence was dumbfounded at the neat appearance of her own creation. It looked too pretty to be something she had made, given the recent state of her affairs in the busy season. She thanked Flora over and over again before leaving.

“So will I be seeing you again soon?” she asked Flora.

“Sure thing, dear. I’ll make sure to drop by the party at some point. Have a lovely week!”

-

The Yard Holiday Party was by no means extravagant. This year it was held in a back room at the yard, as per the usual. It had been decorated nicely by someone. Probably Lucy, Florence thought, given the woman’s penchant for fairy lights. They were strung up on every table, around the walls, the tree, and even some people.

Tables with chairs were scattered sporadically across the small room, and a tree stood in the corner. It was done up with tinsel and paper clip garlands, courtesy of some bored Yard employees. Lights reflected off of red baubles hung precariously from the branches of the tree.

Various holiday sweaters abounded- from Dustin’s light-up Rudolph face to the Deputy Commissioner’s sparkly Christmas tree. Florence herself was wearing a simple red dress. Amidst the sea of sweaters she spotted Lucy wrapping a string of lights around Alfendi’s arm.

Florence went to where they were standing. “Have you seen Barton?” she asked, anxious to give him the treat she carried. “Oh! Looking good, Lucy.”

Lucy had switched her newsboy cap out for a Santa one covered in bells, and was wearing an atrocious fur-trimmed glittery sweater. Alfendi had obviously suffered a few hugs, being covered in glitter himself. “Cheers, Flo! Happy holidays!” said Lucy as she offered Florence a cup of cider. She took it and gulped down some in the hopes that it would distract her from the task at hand.

Alfendi offered her a jingle bell, presumably fallen off of Lucy’s hat.

“For good luck,” he said. Florence took it and tucked it into her purse. Alfendi smiled and pointed to the center of the room. “I think Barton’s over there. But Sniffer’s with him, so don’t let him get to you!”

“Thanks, Al. I’d better be off before Hague starts to sabotage me.” Florence carried her tart to the Commissioner himself. “Sir?” she ventured once near enough to give it to him. “This would be for you. Made it myself.”

The Commissioner took the treat Florence offered. “Ms. Sich, you didn’t have to get me anything,” he said. “And look- my favorite type of tart! My friend Layton used to make some just like this, you know.”

Sniffer Hague stood right next to Barton, upset that his conversational efforts to win him over had been interrupted. “Is that so, sir?” he asked, winking at Florence.

She was silent. The Commissioner paused, and everything seemed to slow down around the three. “Well, of course it doesn’t beat the signed cookbook you got me, but a homemade treat from the heart is really something special. Here, sit down.” He dragged Florence and Sniffer to a nearby table. “Let’s eat this right now!”

A crowd gathered around the table as the tart was cut into and eaten. “Merry Christmas, everybody!” said the Commissioner.

“Heh. 20 pounds to me…” Sniffer muttered to Florence.

“Delicious, Ms. Sich!” the Commissioner snuffled through a piece of tart. Sniffer picked up his own piece and started eating.

She flashed a genuine smile at the Commissioner. If she couldn’t win a bet, at least she had given Barton something he genuinely liked. She supposed that made the difficulty worth it. Still… all that effort for basically nothing.

She glared at Sniffer. “ I learned to bake just for this, you know,” she said.

“Really? That’s dedication,” he said, looking impressed. Bits of cream dotted his nose. “And this is really, really good. I guess I’ll let the money slide. But only because this is amazing, and because it’s Christmas.” Sniffer and Florence shook hands and smiled.

“Merry Christmas, Hague,” Florence caid.

“Merry Christmas, Sich.”

“Oi! You two! Over here!” They both looked over to where Lucy was calling them. “Let’s dance!” she said.

“I would rather not!” Florence shouted back.

‘Jingle Bell Rock’ was blaring from an unseen speaker. Lucy shrugged and started dancing with a somewhat reluctant Alfendi. After a verse or two, they pushed through the crowd to sit with Florence and her companion.

“So? Who won?” Alfendi asked eagerly. “Sniffer called it off!” Florence said with a triumphant flourish. “Did I ever tell you your sister was a Christmas miracle, Alfendi?”

“I take that to mean that Hague won?” he said. He was grinning from ear to ear.

Hague nodded. “Sich here just put so much effort into this bet. Had’ta throw it. It is the season of giving, after all. Here, try some of her tart.” He pushed a plate towards Alfendi and Lucy.

“Well then, here’s a gift for you.” Florence placed the bell Alfendi gave her into Sniffer’s hand.

“Yes! A true reconciliation,” Lucy said. “Now, can we please rock around some Christmas trees?” The music got louder, and rock they did.

end