Lucy had an odd habit of tossing evidence—not out, mind you— she'd never get rid of evidence (purposely that is).

No, the habit was tossing evidence at guilty culprits.

She didn't start that way, of course.

At first she'd treat the evidence rather gingerly, smoothening out the paper as she removed it, as if to prove that she was somewhat competent. By her second case, she was much too fired up to continue with caution— she slammed the evidence hard onto the desk, or thrust it at their face.

And once, during a particularly difficult case with a notoriously uncooperative person, she just tossed the evidence right at their head.

It was only a paper file, so any damage was nonexistent (other than confused sputtering coming from the guilty party, and Lucy scrambling to gather the scattered papers back together as the Prof continued with his accusations), but then she did it again.

And again.

…And again.

Until evidence flying through the air became a normal occurrence in the mystery room.

Once, she had almost tossed a knife right at the suspect before she felt a hand tugging at her shoulder.

"I understand the desire to create a masterpiece of your own," quipped Potty, "but you'll require more tact than that."

At which point Lucy noticed the knife gripped in her hand, and she gave a nervous chuckle as she gently lowered her arm. "Aye. Got a bit carried away there."

Alfendi slapped the case file against her shoulder.

[ but, amphie, they don't actually physically get the evidence —

shhhh it's crack i wrote two years ago cut me some slack ]