"Come along, Emmeline."

The words rattled in her head, but her eyes were fixed on her Professor, who stood across the ruins from her. The confusion and betrayal that had dissolved away his deadpan wouldn't leave her, not when she blinked, looked away, squeezed her eyes shut.

"Emmeline." His voice remained at the same level, but she could hear the threat masked in her dear uncle's voice.

When her own voice came, it felt strained and dry. "Yes, Uncle, I'm coming." She tore her eyes off of him. No. This was how it was supposed to be, all along. She knew that full well, even if she wanted to pretend it should work out. Emmy's throat felt constricted, it was difficult to breathe. This was it, wasn't it? She was leaving her Professor. Her Hershel. There was no turning back, no hiding behind him to have him save the day for her. She wouldn't have it. All of this, all the conflicted feelings. It had all been for her Uncle's sake. She couldn't give up, just for her awful weakness. She hurried along the Azranian paths, her heart pounding. This was it. Her uncle could have what he wanted, and then her work would be over, after all this.

Uncle Leon could not see her eyes clouding, she wouldn't let him. He had raised her to be a strong girl. That's why he chose her to keep watch over his estranged son. Because she could complete the task, without a problem. Right?

"Emmy, you're hurting me!" cried a voice behind her. Ah, right. In her haze, she'd near forgotten she had Luke by the wrist. She'd betrayed him too. There were tears in his eyes, and a certain anxiety, like he was waiting for the joke to be over.

So was she.

Looking behind her shoulder, she loosened her grip on her young friend, crouching down. "Stay here. The Professor will be here soon, I know he will." Shit, she was crying. Her eyes stung. She forced a smile, trying to ignore the anger in his eyes. "I love you Luke. You really were one of my dearest friends. I'm sorry."

"Emmeline!"

"Sorry, Uncle! The boy sprained his knee. I'm leaving him behind!" She cast Luke a smile, before running off, blinking the tears out of her eyes.

Luke waited, as he was told, with a heavy heart. He had no desire to chase after Emmy. He was conflicted as she was. Was she still his friend, the Professor's friend? He watched her disappear, and suddenly felt terribly lonely. When the Professor came for him, Luke still had all the look of a deer caught in the headlights. "Emmy's... Emmy's still on our side," he murmured, overwhelmed, barely hearing Layton. "She's still on our side."

The Professor paused for a moment, looking down the darkened twists and turns of the ruins. "Alright," he said after regaining his composure. "Come along then. Quickly"

SIX MONTHS PRIOR

"It was certainly nice, meeting your old college buddies, Professor!" Emmy said, interrupting a nonsense melody she'd been humming, while fixing tea, as she usually did, in the afternoons. It was the Professor's first day back at the university after the escapades in Monte d'Or. She set down a small china mug, one sugar, a drop of milk, just the way she'd been doing for nearly a year now.

"It was a treat to see them again, and well off," he responded quietly, bringing the cup to his lips. Emmy plopped down on the couch in his study beside him, making the old thing squeak and shake indignantly.

"Well, promise you'll take me back to Monte d'Or someday. We hardly got to see all the sights!" She beamed. Times like this, her allegiance to Targent was wedged in the back of her mind, where she needn't pay it the least bit of mind. Here, she could feel like Uncle Leon wasn't really the only person she had in the world.

"It could be nice," he reasoned, with a faint shrug of his shoulders. She bobbed her head, wild hair bouncing on her shoulders. She watched him intently, though he didn't seem to notice. Her Professor, her Hershel Layton. How dearly she cared for him, how desperately she craved his validation. His love. No doubt, he was a tough girl. She was optimistic. But it had been difficult, having nobody but her adoptive guardian through her entire childhood. Now, to finally be cared for, despite Bronev's 'insinuations' that he was the only person who was capable of paying her any sort of mind. He was wrong. Emmy was loveable. And it felt good, and warm. It was her weakness. Being... cared for.

One thing that was nice about the Professor was that he did not mind silence. Lately, she got lost in her thoughts a bit more than usual. And Layton never faulted her for suddenly going quiet on him. Like now, he simply sipped at his tea, paging through a research journal balanced on his lap.

"Hey," she piped up, a faint smile playing on her lips. The Professor looked up, but she was already speaking again, her typical, quick-to-the-point self. "Know what's coming up in two weeks, do you?"

"Two weeks?" She achieved a little smile from him, as he pretended to scan his calendar for clues. "I don't see anything..."

Laughing, she gave his shoulder a push. "It's my anniversary as your assistant, and you know it!" They both shared a smile, and in the excitement of the moment, Emmy dared to move closer, hugging his arm with both of hers, moving in close. It wasn't that they hadn't been in close proximity before. But this simply felt... more intimate. He continued to smile, so at least she hadn't crossed any sort of lines by snuggling up to his side. At least, not to him. Any lines of which she was personally crossing as far as her relationship with him was intended to stay. But she didn't want to think about it. To hell with Targent, if only for right now.

Still all smiles, she slowly loosened her grip, but rested her head on his shoulder. He smelled comforting, like spice and the book-ish scent of his office. "Y'know, it's been a real pleasure to work with you, Professor. I never thought being an assistant would be... so much fun." Blinking slowly, she sighed contentedly. The Professor had put an arm around her, after a pause, returning the sideways embrace.

"And it has been lovely having you along with us, Emmy. In fact, all joking aside, I thought it best to do something to commemorate the occasion."

"Oh?" Emmy was... surprised, really. She had hardly been expecting him to remember in the first place. Again, that little twinge of happiness came.

"I hope it wasn't too rude of me to go making plans on your behalf, but I wanted to keep it a surprise. So I reserved us a seat at a charming restuarant, later in the evening."

It took her a moment to find the words. "That sounds wonderful, Professor!" And for a moment, perhaps the very first one, she was fully excited, no conscience whispering 'Targent' in the back of her mind. She was happy.