Fandom: Professor Layton
Word Count: 505
Genre: Humor, Family
Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton. Or his top-hat of awesome.
Teaser: It was fun, as well as being a visual reminder that Luke was growing up.
“Professoooooor…” Luke called from the hallway in the closest thing to a whine Layton had ever heard from his young ward and apprentice. “Hurry up!” The sound of stocking clad feet pounded around on the hardwood floor to further indicate the boy’s impatience at having to wait.
It took a bit of effort, but Layton managed to not roll his eyes in a mix of exasperation and amusement at it all, and instead followed the call out to the front hall, where said apprentice was hopping up and down eagerly, awaiting what was to come. “Luke, my boy, patience is a virtue.”
“It’s a virtue that I don’t have!” the boy said without batting an eye.
“…I do have to agree with you on that,” Layton admitted with a dry chuckle, fully certain that young Luke didn’t know what ‘virtue’ meant. Children were certainly unpredictable, but decidedly delightful. This particular child would grow up in time, learn manners and proper behavior (and hopefully gain a bit of that elusive patience), but for now Layton was perfectly content to enjoy things as they were, in all their unpredictable glory. “All right, Luke, put your back against the wall and hold still.”
Holding still was not something Luke had ever had any great skill at doing, but to his credit he did try his best, for what it was worth. Not that his best meant he was actually standing still, but he was making a great effort. He managed to stand there with a minimal amount of wiggling, and— “Luke, no standing on your toes,” Layton admonished, pressing gently on the top of the boy’s head.
“Aww, you caught me,” Luke said sheepishly, obediently dropping his heels to the floor. Another bout of wiggling ensued, and he nearly went cross-eyed while trying to follow the movement of Layton’s hand as it passed over the boy’s head towards the wooden beam behind him. “Are you done yet, Professor? I want to see!”
“Don’t move. Here we go…” Layton leaned in and pressed the tip of his pencil to a piece of the doorframe (a simple affair of pine wood) that had been chosen to bear these particular marks. A flick of his wrist, a quick scribble of the date, and the job was done. “There.” He straightened and folded his arms. “Take a look for yourself, Luke. What do you think?”
Luke whipped around and studied the pencil marks with a careful eye that reminded Layton of himself. The new mark was a measurable distance higher on the wooden doorframe than the one from the previous year. Which meant… “I’m growing! I’m getting bigger!” Luke cheered. “Soon I’ll be as tall as you, Professor! Or taller! Even with your hat on!”
While Luke was babbling, Layton shook his head wryly. “There’s no hurry, Luke.” A rueful sigh as the boy went tearing off down the hallway in search of his next big adventure, still crowing about how tall he would be in the future. “No hurry at all…”