Nancy Drew/Brideshead Revisited/Professor Layton fic
I haven't posted fic in foreeeeeever D: D: D: so here's part of something that I scribbled out on a paper towel at work one day.
This is actually part of a bigger piece I had intended to write, entitled, "Five People That Carson Drew Never Slept With." (Because Carson Drew is a ho. In my head. Or in canon. I forget. Anyway.) It's a ridiculous crossover because I love ridiculous crossovers ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY ARE TIMELINE COMPLIANT, OH MAN. Canon timeline compliancy = huge boner for me.
(I think I stalled on this because I couldn't come up with five people that Carson never slept with, ho ho ho.)
Fandoms: Nancy Drew, Brideshead Revisited, Professor Layton (what what what)
Characters: Carson Drew, Anthony Blanche, Professor Layton
Rating: PG-13
Carson tipped the stem of his Brandy Alexander. "And just who are you gawking at?"
"I do believe that's Hershel Layton over there," said Anthony, narrowing his eyes at the doorway. "Yes. Yes, it is. Few other men can look so strikingly aloof while sporting that hat," he observed. "And though his name is Hershel, I'm told he's not a Jew. Oh, Professor!" he called. "You'll see, he's utterly delightful. I met him at a party thrown by the Gressenheller Puzzle Society. A Puzzle Society, of all things! I didn't know such travesty existed. If I recall, the head of the club had a penchant for ladies' undergarments. Isn't that top hat too much? I think I shall purchase one."
"How very nice to see you, Mr. Blanche," said Professor Layton as he approached their table.
"My dear, if you don't call me Anthony, I shall be greatly offended."
Layton smiled politely at Carson. "Then I suppose it's only fair that you call me Hershel. I take it you're no longer at Oxford?"
"Oh dear," Anthony complained into his drink. "Was I ever? But this is my friend, Carson Drew. Carson, Professor Hershel Layton."
"A pleasure," said Carson, taking his hand.
Without warning, Anthony rose from the table. "I think I see an old friend who owes me six pounds. Do sit down, Hershel," he insisted, gesturing towards the chair with his usual flourish.
Layton gave another polite smile. Carson waited for him to remove his hat, but his expectations were in vain.
"So, Mr. Drew-"
"Carson, please."
"Carson, then. It seems our mutual friend would like us to get to know each other," Layton chuckled.
"Indeed," said Carson.
"Do you enjoy puzzles?"
Carson stared at his glass, then at Layton. "I-I suppose so."
"Wonderful!" cheered Layton, looking positively delighted. "This one is worth 40 picarats. See if you can solve it."
"Picarats?" asked Carson.
Rounds at the Pub
40 Picarats
Carson thought for a long moment, then furtively took a pencil from his jacket and scribbled across a bar napkin in his lap. For some reason he didn't want Professor Layton to know that he couldn't do math in his head. "Is it 47?"
Layton beamed. "Every puzzle has an answer! Very good indeed. You'll notice the teacher manages to avoid the final round."
Carson desperately wanted another Brandy Alexander, but he suddenly felt very self-conscious.
Layton leaned forward across the table. "Your turn, then."
"My turn?"
"For a puzzle."
"Oh," said Carson, scratching behind his ear. "All right. Yes, all right. I think I remember one."
"How many picarats is it worth?" asked Layton.
"Er...picarats?"
"Why, you can't just give a puzzle without a picarat value. Well, I suppose you could, but that would be quite improper in some circles."
Carson glanced across the room at Anthony, who did not appear to be collecting any money of any kind. "60?" he suggested.
"Wonderful," nodded Layton.
A Bride's Ransom
60 Picarats
The lighting in the pub was not particularly flattering that evening, but even Carson could see that Layton had turned an unsightly shade of yellow.
"I think..." Layton began, straightening his hat even though it didn't need straightening. "...I think there are end of term papers that require my attention. It was very nice to meet you," he said stiffly, and disappeared from the table without ceremony.
A moment later, Anthony rejoined Carson with three Brandy Alexanders balanced precariously between his fingers. "I overheard your little riddle," he said, setting one of the glasses down in front of Carson and keeping the other two for himself. "I'm afraid you may have offended our dear friend, Professor Layton."
"It was a trick question, you see," said Carson. "The horse has the biggest cock."
"Never mind, my dear. I see now that Hershel wasn't right for you at all."
"Anthony," Carson said, slightly exasperated. "What on earth is a picarat?"
Anthony blinked, taking a prolonged sip from his cocktail. "I'm sure I don't know," he yawned. "Undoubtedly something Jewish."
This is actually part of a bigger piece I had intended to write, entitled, "Five People That Carson Drew Never Slept With." (Because Carson Drew is a ho. In my head. Or in canon. I forget. Anyway.) It's a ridiculous crossover because I love ridiculous crossovers ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY ARE TIMELINE COMPLIANT, OH MAN. Canon timeline compliancy = huge boner for me.
(I think I stalled on this because I couldn't come up with five people that Carson never slept with, ho ho ho.)
Fandoms: Nancy Drew, Brideshead Revisited, Professor Layton (what what what)
Characters: Carson Drew, Anthony Blanche, Professor Layton
Rating: PG-13
Carson tipped the stem of his Brandy Alexander. "And just who are you gawking at?"
"I do believe that's Hershel Layton over there," said Anthony, narrowing his eyes at the doorway. "Yes. Yes, it is. Few other men can look so strikingly aloof while sporting that hat," he observed. "And though his name is Hershel, I'm told he's not a Jew. Oh, Professor!" he called. "You'll see, he's utterly delightful. I met him at a party thrown by the Gressenheller Puzzle Society. A Puzzle Society, of all things! I didn't know such travesty existed. If I recall, the head of the club had a penchant for ladies' undergarments. Isn't that top hat too much? I think I shall purchase one."
"How very nice to see you, Mr. Blanche," said Professor Layton as he approached their table.
"My dear, if you don't call me Anthony, I shall be greatly offended."
Layton smiled politely at Carson. "Then I suppose it's only fair that you call me Hershel. I take it you're no longer at Oxford?"
"Oh dear," Anthony complained into his drink. "Was I ever? But this is my friend, Carson Drew. Carson, Professor Hershel Layton."
"A pleasure," said Carson, taking his hand.
Without warning, Anthony rose from the table. "I think I see an old friend who owes me six pounds. Do sit down, Hershel," he insisted, gesturing towards the chair with his usual flourish.
Layton gave another polite smile. Carson waited for him to remove his hat, but his expectations were in vain.
"So, Mr. Drew-"
"Carson, please."
"Carson, then. It seems our mutual friend would like us to get to know each other," Layton chuckled.
"Indeed," said Carson.
"Do you enjoy puzzles?"
Carson stared at his glass, then at Layton. "I-I suppose so."
"Wonderful!" cheered Layton, looking positively delighted. "This one is worth 40 picarats. See if you can solve it."
"Picarats?" asked Carson.
Rounds at the Pub
40 Picarats
- A teacher, a solicitor, and a lush all get together at the Blue Fairy for several rounds of Brandy Alexanders. The lush, having a great fondness for liquor, finishes his drink in eight minutes, while the solicitor sips at his for twelve. The teacher is content to nurse his brandy and simply enjoy the evening, but whenever his companions find that their glasses are empty at the exact same time, they order a full round for the table. Assuming that the heavier drinkers keep a steady pace and call for another Brandy Alexander as soon as the one in front of them is gone, how many drinks will have been ordered in three hours time?
Carson thought for a long moment, then furtively took a pencil from his jacket and scribbled across a bar napkin in his lap. For some reason he didn't want Professor Layton to know that he couldn't do math in his head. "Is it 47?"
Layton beamed. "Every puzzle has an answer! Very good indeed. You'll notice the teacher manages to avoid the final round."
Carson desperately wanted another Brandy Alexander, but he suddenly felt very self-conscious.
Layton leaned forward across the table. "Your turn, then."
"My turn?"
"For a puzzle."
"Oh," said Carson, scratching behind his ear. "All right. Yes, all right. I think I remember one."
"How many picarats is it worth?" asked Layton.
"Er...picarats?"
"Why, you can't just give a puzzle without a picarat value. Well, I suppose you could, but that would be quite improper in some circles."
Carson glanced across the room at Anthony, who did not appear to be collecting any money of any kind. "60?" he suggested.
"Wonderful," nodded Layton.
A Bride's Ransom
60 Picarats
- In an attempt to marry off his maiden daughter, a man invites several suitors to his estate in the hopes that one of them will succeed in winning her heart. The girl is sitting on the terrace, working at her needlepoint, when a carriage arrives carrying a handsome young lord from a neighboring kingdom. "I have come to make you my bride," he tells her, producing a lavish bouquet of roses from behind his back. Before she can reply, a second carriage approaches, more ornate than the first, carrying a seventy-year-old man wearing a fine array of velvets and silks. "I have come to make you my bride," he declares, bringing forth a jewelry box that holds a fine necklace of sapphire and gold. Before she can accept the gift, a prince rides forth on a beautiful white stallion. "I have come to make you my bride," he announces, and simply offers his hand. The maiden glances up from her needlepoint with a thoroughly bored look. "Just tell me who has the biggest cock," she says impatiently. At this, the rich old man laughs. "That's easy," he says. So who has the biggest cock?
The lighting in the pub was not particularly flattering that evening, but even Carson could see that Layton had turned an unsightly shade of yellow.
"I think..." Layton began, straightening his hat even though it didn't need straightening. "...I think there are end of term papers that require my attention. It was very nice to meet you," he said stiffly, and disappeared from the table without ceremony.
A moment later, Anthony rejoined Carson with three Brandy Alexanders balanced precariously between his fingers. "I overheard your little riddle," he said, setting one of the glasses down in front of Carson and keeping the other two for himself. "I'm afraid you may have offended our dear friend, Professor Layton."
"It was a trick question, you see," said Carson. "The horse has the biggest cock."
"Never mind, my dear. I see now that Hershel wasn't right for you at all."
"Anthony," Carson said, slightly exasperated. "What on earth is a picarat?"
Anthony blinked, taking a prolonged sip from his cocktail. "I'm sure I don't know," he yawned. "Undoubtedly something Jewish."