The Truth of the Matter Is

1944, i

"A hat?"

"For the newly appointed professor." Claire grinned at his reaction. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," he said.

Before he could react, Claire stood up, pushed him back into the chair.

"You're a full fledged member of the academic community now," she said, and gently removed his hat, placed it on the table. "So you've got to look the part." And with that, she leant up, top hat in hand, and positioned it on his head.

"How is it?" he asked tentatively.

"Dashing," she replied, straightening the on his head. "You're the picture of a true gentleman."

Hershel stared at her, then glanced up at the brim in fascination. "A true gentleman?" he echoed faintly, and made to remove it.

"Wait, leave it on!" she said, and drew his hands away. "It suits you."

Hat lopsided, Hershel regarded her curiously, and she chuckled.

"Oh, look at the time! I hadn't realised how late it was!" Claire hurried over to where her laboratory coat was hung up on the wall and took it down. "I've got to go to the lab," she added, slipping her arms into the sleeves. "We're running a very important experiment today." She straightened out the fabric, checking for wrinkles and whatnot, and straightened up when she was satisfied. "Let's continue the celebration over dinner tonight. Oh, and promise me you'll wear the hat! I know it's not your usual style, but keep an open mind." She was at the door now, and she slung her bag over her shoulder, turned back to address him. "After all, that's what a gentleman does."

In response to his bewildered gaze, Claire smiled, and pushed the door open.

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It was a very sunny day on that afternoon. She passed a young boy in a faded blue vest and cap on the street across from her. The boy caught her eye, readjusted his cap, beaming.

"Hi!" he called. Claire looked up. He waved enthusiastically, at which point she smiled, nodded politely, and kept on walking.

Bill was already there when she stepped in, bent over the desk, scribbling furiously. The sun reflected violently off the polished floorboards and the countertops. Stacks of paper occupied the floor in their usual layout.

"Where's Dimitri?" she asked.

"Something came up."

"Oh. That's a shame," said Claire wistfully, making rounds around the machine, taking it in. She'd not seen it in its state of near-completion, and to the casual observer, it might not appear that impressive. Cobbled together with countless sheets of metal into an approximate spherical structure, it creaked violently with each revolution of its inner workings as if it might collapse. Every now and then it tooted feebly.

The truth of the matter was that she didn't know much but the fundamentals. Then again, that was all that was to be expected from a lab assistant. But she'd read Bill's and Dimitri's notes about the machine whenever she could get away with it, late at night, or when they had gone out to lunch. Honestly, Claire doubted Dimitri would have cared if he'd known. Bill would have probably brushed it aside.

Even so, from what she came to understand through self tutoring and a few careful questions, the whole concept was fascinating.

"Mm? What's that?" said Bill, distractedly. Nothing unusual there, Claire thought, with a touch of dry amusement.

"That Dimitri couldn't make it," she said. "The machine looks wonderful."

Bill grunted. "It's nothing special, but it'll do."

Claire frowned. "If you say so."

Bill shook himself, rose from the desk with an envelope in hand. "I'll be back in a moment. Got to send this."

"Ah, shall I get that for you?" Claire asked.

"You're fine as you are. Wait here."

This was a little odd. Shouldn't she be the one running errands? But the moment of uncertainty was swept away by the brilliance of the day and the prospect of celebration that night. Claire shook it off. "Sure thing, Bill."

And Bill headed out.

Waiting for him to return was difficult, but she managed it. When he came back, he looked a little more at ease.

"Right," said Bill. "We're running the first legitimate test today." He walked over to the machine and turned a small, scarlet wheel at its left side. The hatch opened with a low screech and a billowing of steam, revealing a small set of stairs built into the inside of the door. He turned to her, nodded. "Miss Foley, if you'd be so kind as to step inside, and we can get on with the procedure."

Claire blinked, staring at him in astonishment. Was he serious?

"You want to send me through?" she asked, not quite sure she'd understood.

"Unless you'd rather not take part in one of mankind's greatest achievements, then yes."

"But—where will I end up? What's it going to be like?" Claire asked excitedly.

Bill sighed impatiently through his nostrils.

"Just step inside, will you."

She ascended the steps on trembling legs to stand within the chamber. Bill glanced up at her, and she gave him the thumbs-up. Satisfied, he walked over to her left and out of her field of vision. The creaking recommenced, and the door rose and shut with a loud bang. Claire winced. The chamber wasn't soundproofed.

She took in the interior. More metal plates. Perhaps it was a little shabbier than it had appeared on the outside, but she figured that was only because the machine was still in prototype status.

A low, droning hum met her ears.

It was hot. Claire fought the urge to remove her coat as perspiration beaded on her skin. Briefly, the notion occurred to her that something was wrong.

And then, so suddenly that she did not have time to comprehend it, the world around her exploded into light.

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When Claire regained consciousness, she was standing in the middle of a dimly lit room. She blinked, gasped, and looked around frantically.

Books covered the walls in rows, stacked upon shelves. A library?

"Bill?" she called out. Silence greeted her. She looked around for signs of life and found none.

Where was she? Or, to more precise, when?

She turned back and saw a door. Grateful, she strode over to it and pushed through. Her mind was racing as she continued down the well-lit hall. Terror, once ignored in favor of disorientation, now seeped into her mind.

How would she get back to her normal time? Could she even return? And what was she to do now?

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A/N: Hello, Professor Layton fic! Taking a break from all the AoT stuff to write this (and update other things!). Thoughts would be appreciated!