My first PL fic! This came to me just a few minutes ago, I hope it's alright!

I do not own the Professor Layton franchise or any noticeable characters in the story.

Only a Distant Memory

The lab was in shambles to say the least. Scattered around the room were piles upon piles of thick, heavy books, some piles stretched all the way up to the ceiling. Spilling off of the two desks were calculations scrawled onto pages of notebook paper in black ink, some so long and complicated that even the most brilliant minds would have trouble solving them. Sitting, or rather sleeping, at one of the desks was one of the poor scientists who worked in the undersized, pigsty of a lab.

His body was slumped over the desk with his head resting on a small stack of papers. His right hand hung limply by his side while his left loosely gripped the pen he had been writing with the night before. His medium-length brown hair was a tangled mess about his head, and dark circles had begun to form under his eyes; he snored softly.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and the door creaked open, revealing a short, slightly heavyset man in a white lab coat and a red-haired young woman. "Please pardon the mess" he said, with a hint of a laugh in his voice, "we don't often have time to…clean up around here."

"That's quite alright!" Laughed the woman good naturedly.

The man looked forward and surveyed his sleeping colleague with amusement. "Dimitri!" He shouted. The brunette man groaned and gave him a quick glance before shouting "oh!" And smoothing out his hair as he stood up, "sorry Bill."

Bill shook his head, "you know Dimitri, it wouldn't hurt you to go out after work and have fun every once in a while."

"I know, I know." He muttered, looking up at them. His eyes immediately found the young woman standing there. He hoped he wasn't blushing; how embarrassing to him to meet her for the first time, asleep at his desk!

"Dimitri" said Bill, stifling a chuckle "this is Claire Foley; she's going to be our lab assistant starting today. Claire, this is Dimitri Allen."

"How do you do, Dr. Allen?" Asked Claire, extending her hand to him.

"Very well," he replied, shaking her hand, "but please, just call me Dimitri."

"Okay!" She said, smiling.

"Well then, let's get to work!" Said Bill, clapping his hands together.

Dimitri couldn't take his eyes off of her for the rest of the day. She's beautiful, he thought, his mind veering off of the complex calculation he was trying to finish. He stared up at her for what felt like only a few seconds, but in reality was probably a minute or so.

"Dimitri, Dimitri!" He snapped back to reality, Bill stood to the right of his desk, looking down at him.

"Yes?" Said Dimitri,

"Dimitri, that pen is leaking all over your work!" Bill laughed.

Dimitri looked down to see that black fluid was dripping down his fingers to his palm. He quickly pulled the pen away from the work, but it was already ruined. He groaned, knowing he would have to do all of those calculations over again "damn it!"

Claire, stifling a giggle, pulled a green handkerchief out of her pocket. "Here" she said, handing it to him. Dimitri gratefully took the handkerchief, he smiled broadly at her, "thanks."

"You're welcome!" She replied.

He couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

Dimitri sighed at the memory, 32 years past. He thought, Claire had been such a kind and intelligent woman. He loved her dearly, and knew that no matter how many years passed by, he would never stop loving her. Even though she had loved another, Dimitri was convinced that those years in the lab with Claire had been the best of his life. His memories of laughing and talking to Claire on ordinary work days, and powering-through long nights when they were convinced that they were inches away from a breakthrough still made him smile.

But those days seemed so long ago. Those days before Bill had taken Claire away from him, before he had been used as a puppet by Clive, and before he had gone to prison for kidnapping. Long ago. He stood and looked at the empty cell that had served as his home for over a decade now. He had stripped the bed clean, leaving only a bare mattress lying on the floor, his belongings had been returned to him; today he would be released.

The cell door creaked open, one of the guards stood there, looked down at the tall, bony man with distaste. "Alright, Mr. Allen." He said as Dimitri stood up, "Time to go home."

Home to where? Thought Dimitri, before he left his cell, for good.

Thanks for reading!