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Story Title: The Social Skills of a Rock
Rating: G
Genre: General
Series: Professor Layton
Pairing(s): Clive/Luke
Character(s): Luke Triton, Clive Dove, Hershel Layton
Summary: Luke gets to know the infuriating individual of Clive-who-is-not-pretending-to-be-him-from-the-future.
Notes: Written as part of a trade with Meirii on deviantART, who wanted a Clive/Luke fic based several years in the future, with Luke visiting Clive, who is now under house arrest. As usual, there are heavy spoilers for Lost Future in this fic. I must admit that I’m not the biggest Clive/Luke shipper in the world anymore, so I’m sorry if this isn’t the best fic ever. I hope that it’s good enough all the same.

“I just want to talk to him, Professor.”

Layton sighed, “That may not be the best idea, my boy. Not to imply that Clive is dangerous, at least not anymore, but given everything that’s happened, I’m not sure how he’d react to speaking with you.”

“You’re worrying too much,” replied Luke. Worrying too much wasn’t an uncommon trait in Layton when it came to Luke, “I’m an adult now and it’s been ten years since he impersonated me. I think that anything that happened back then is buried in the past now.”

“Then why do you want to talk to him so much?” Layton pressed.

He had him there.

Luke still wasn’t certain of that himself. Perhaps it was some sort of morbid curiosity about the man who had pretended to be him. Since the incident, Luke had been granted plenty of time to think about what happened and the reasons behind it. He’d heard the story of Clive’s actions told from everyone’s point of view except for Clive’s, who he hadn’t had the chance to talk to since then.

When the news reached him that Clive had been granted house arrest after several years in prison, he was greatly surprised. Even more so when he learned that Layton had been the one who’d opted to take him in. Which made it a little infuriating that Layton was now refusing to let Luke see him.

But Luke knew the Professor and he knew that if he wanted to get anywhere with him that he needed to present his argument logically.

“I think that there’s a lot I could learn from him,” Luke answered, “And if you truly trust him you’ll let me see him.”

The slight frown on Layton’s face, although gone in a flash, was enough evidence to prove to Luke that he did didn’t trust Clive as fully as he could do.

“He is… disturbed. Which is a horrible thing to admit, but I won’t beat around the bush with you. While I’m sure that he would mean no harm to you, I can’t promise that talking to you would put him in the right frame of mind,” Layton said, his expression solemn.

“I can look after myself,” protested Luke, “If he’s living with you then I’m going to be seeing him eventually anyway. Unless you don’t want me to visit you anymore.”

“Don’t even suggest such things,” Layton replied, “Of course I want to see you more often now that you’re living back to England.”

“So you’ll let me meet Clive?” checked Luke.

“I suppose that it’s unavoidable,” Layton murmured.

“Thank you, Professor,” Luke said, smiling faintly.

That had been how the first meeting between Clive and Luke in ten years had been brought about. While Layton continued to delay it for a few weeks further, eventually he could no longer put it off without costing Luke’s feelings and gave in, arranging for Luke to come to his house for the first time since he’d returned to the country.

His home had remained largely unchanged over the years, save for the addition of several new archaeological artefacts. This didn’t surprise Luke all that much - Layton was a hoarder and a creature of habit.

The biggest change to Layton’s home was the presence of Clive, who sat on one of the old sofas in the living room, clutching a half-drunk cup of tea. He nodded curtly as Luke entered the room, but didn’t get up to greet him. Luke imagined that Layton had probably had more than a few words with Clive about this visit and that the other man was strictly on his best behaviour.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” Clive said, as Luke took a seat opposite him.

“Likewise,” replied Luke, “It’s been too long.”

“Perhaps not long enough,” said Clive. Any further remarks were cut off by a sharp glance from Layton, who had taken a seat near Luke.

“No, I think that we needed to talk,” insisted Luke, “I have a lot that I want to ask you about.”

Clive’s eyes darted briefly to Layton, and then back to Luke, before he replied, “I’m afraid that I probably don’t have much to say that you haven’t already heard. My actions back then were misguided and unjust. I will continue to try to atone for them as long as I live. However, I never did get a chance to apologise for you for stealing your identity, so I’d like to do so now.”

“It’s… well, it’s not okay, but I forgive you anyway,” said Luke, “You needed to be me to get close to the Professor, right?”

“Yes, it was my aim to impersonate someone that he trusted, hopefully to gain that trust for myself,” Clive agreed, “While the Professor is accepting of many, the people he allows in his circle of trust are few. It was… convenient that you happened to be amongst those people and I looked so much like you.”

That part had troubled Luke, too. He’d spent a lot of time scanning over family trees and other records to check for any chance that Clive might have been related to him, only to come back empty-handed. The similarities between their appearances had been merely coincidence. A coincidence that had lessened over the years, as when Luke had become the true ‘Future Luke’ he’d found himself to be considerably taller than Clive and somewhat broader. The future was something one could not predict, but Clive had done a good job of passing for an older Luke ten years ago.

“But why was it so important? I get that you wanted to have revenge on society, but you could have done all that without pretending to be in the future at all,” Luke questioned.

“There are many reasons for that, some of which I can imagine that you’ve worked out for yourself,” answered Clive, “It was easier to hide Bill Hawks if everyone thought that he’d been blasted through time. No one would come looking. But perhaps the biggest reason was that… I… wanted the Professor to stop me. I wanted him to care enough to save me. And he cared about you…”

“Um, well at least that part worked out,” said Luke, thinking fast of ways to change the topic to something less awkward, “I’d never imagine that you’d end up living with him, though.”

“Neither did either of us,” assured Layton, “When the court changed Clive’s sentence, I turned out to be the only suitable person to act as a carer. While Cog and Spring had been the first choice, they were ultimately unable to house Clive at the same time as running the business they needed to make a living.”

“But doesn’t it get awkward? You must have to keep an eye on him at all times. And that would include when you go to the university,” Luke asked.

Clive chuckled, “Believe you and me, having to sit in on archaeology lectures gets boring.”

“I always thought that the Professor’s lessons are fascinating,” Luke replied, defensively.

“His students certainly think so,” Clive confirmed, “But having to listen to the same lectures each year gets a little dull, especially when you’re not interested in the subject. But I much prefer it to sitting in a prison cell.”

“And I’ve come to not mind his company,” Layton added, “As you know, Flora moved out a few years back to explore the world and it is nice to have someone to talk to again.”

“I’m glad to hear,” replied Luke.

He felt a pang of jealousy in his chest, which surprised him. Of course, as a child he had been inseparable from Layton, often to the point of being difficult towards anyone who he felt opposed his position as number one apprentice. But as he was older now, he’d hoped that he’d come to terms with Layton spending time with others.

It… didn’t feel as if he was jealous of Layton and Clive spending time together for that reason, however. He’d have to file this away for further examination later.

The rest of conversation consisted of much of the same, with the two of them updating Luke on the changes that had happened over the years, while Luke nodded and asked questions. As far as Luke was concerned, this relaxed atmosphere was good, since it would mean Clive was comfortable enough around him for him to continue visiting them without worrying the Professor.

Luke really wanted to see more of them both. Their absence from his life had hit him hard over the years away, increased by Luke’s failure to make many new friends in America. He could understand why he missed Layton, but his longing to see Clive, someone who he’d hardly even known, was something that he’d never quite understood.

As the months went on, however, Luke finally felt that he’d been granted the chance to get to know Clive in a way that he couldn’t beforehand. Now he was faced with the real Clive, not a Clive who was pretending to be him. The actual thing was a much more reserved individual than Luke himself could ever be. Clive had a tendency to sit on the edge of conversations, putting forth his often sharp opinions infrequently. He had a good wit about him and Luke could see why Layton had come to enjoy his company, given the light-hearted, snarky remarks that the two of them would often share.

He found that he also enjoyed Clive’s company himself and would spend more time at the Layton household than would be considered normal just to get the chance to talk to him.

All the same, it was a long while before Layton granted them the chance to talk without his supervision.

“Probably has his ear pressed against the door,” Clive remarked, after Layton had told them that he was retiring to his study, “He cares a great deal about you and doesn’t want to risk you getting hurt.”

“Does it upset you that he doesn’t trust you?” enquired Luke.

“Not really. When you consider what I did back then, it’s perfectly understandable that he’d be cautious. And he’s demonstrating trust by letting us talk right now,” replied Clive.

“I suppose so,” mumbled Luke, “But I knew that you were never going to hurt me.”

Clive’s expression became suddenly harsh.

“If you’d gotten in my way I would have murdered you. I’d have hurt anyone who stopped me from getting my revenge upon society,” he warned.

“M-maybe so. But… you’re not that person now,” Luke argued.

“I am still that person. The only difference is that I’ve now been shown reason. There are other ways to fix society. But Layton is right to warn you to be careful around me,” assured Clive.

“You’re my friend! You’d never hurt me!” Luke snapped.

“…I’m glad that you think so.”

That had been all that Luke managed to get out of him. His yelling had prompted Layton to return to the room and Clive had swiftly excused himself. He went to the room that Luke presumed was his and did not leave for the rest of the time that Luke was there.

While Layton had tried to find out what happened, Luke didn’t feel that he could talk about it. He wasn’t sure himself what had happened. And for some reason, Clive was fast becoming one of the very few topics that he didn’t feel that he could confide in the Professor about.

Layton must have eventually gotten Clive to relay the conversation to him though, because the next time Luke saw him he apologised for how Clive had reacted to something as simple as being called someone’s friend.

“He finds it hard to connect with other people,” Layton said, “Very few would even want to be his friend and he doesn’t feel that he’s a person that can be trusted.”

“You don’t make it easy for him to change that opinion by hovering over his shoulder all the time,” replied Luke, in a rare moment of disagreeing with the Professor.

“As his carer, that is what I’m required to do,” reminded Layton, “But you’re right that I should grant him some trust where you’re concerned.”

“So, can I talk to him again?” Luke checked.

“That would be down to his decision. He’s through in the study if you want to talk to him,” Layton answered.

Quietly treading through to Layton’s study, Luke found Clive on the floor, hunched over a book about Azran artefacts. His brow was furrowed and he was staring too hard at the page to actually be reading what was there. In all likelihood, he had been eavesdropping on Layton and Luke’s conversation.

“I thought you weren’t interested in archaeology,” prompted Luke, sitting beside him on the floor.

“Sometimes Layton’s lectures make me curious as to what he’s talking about,” replied Clive, “But I really don’t understand any of it.”

“The books that the Professor keeps are pretty advanced,” said Luke. When he was younger, he’d tried to read some of them himself and had left with a headache; “Um, about the other day…?”

“I overreacted. I’m sorry,” dismissed Clive, looking back at the book.

“Good,” replied Luke.

Maybe the right way to deal with Clive was to be as blunt as he was. It would certainly explain why Layton seemed as harsh towards him as he did. Luke’s statement echoed into silence and neither man spoke for several minutes. Clearly, Clive was waiting for Luke to change the subject, but Luke didn’t feel like losing the conversation this time. Instead, he waited in silence, until…

“I don’t understand you,” Clive commented.

“What’s not to understand?” asked Luke.

“You have so many people who care about you and appreciate you - Layton, Flora, your friends from Misthallery. Even the inspectors from Scotland Yard have respect for you. Yet you choose to be here with me instead of any of those people. And I’ve hardly been sociable to you,” replied Clive.

“Maybe I’m trying to win you over,” Luke joked.

“In what way?”

“What do you mean ‘in what way’?”

“On second thought, nevermind.”

Clive got to his feet.

“You don’t have to lock yourself away in your room,” said Luke, reaching up to grab Clive’s arm, “All that will happen is that you’ll not talk to me for a few days and then apologise. Again.”

Staring at Luke’s hand in mild surprise, Clive replied, “We do seem to be going in circles.”

“That’s not my fault,” Luke insisted, without letting go of his arm.

“You keep asking me questions that are difficult to answer,” accused Clive.

“They shouldn’t be difficult at all. You make them that way,” Luke commented.

“You sound like Layton,” muttered Clive.

“Then perhaps you make people sound that way as well,” retorted Luke.

“Why don’t you go talk to one of your other friends about sunshine and rainbows, then?” Clive shot.

“Because I want you! …I mean, eh, I want to talk to you… I think,” Luke mumbled.

Awkward.

“Don’t try to change how I talk, then. If you want someone to talk nicely to you, then go see all the countless people who’ll do that. If you want to talk to me, accept how I behave,” Clive concluded.

“Very well,” sighed Luke.

He felt frustrated, as if he’d lost an argument that he hadn’t even realised he was involved in until it was over. What was it about Clive that made him as angry as he always got? Or as jealous about the time that Clive spent with Layton, for that matter? The more he thought about it, the more he had to conclude that it may well be Layton he was jealous of, not Clive. Which was ridiculous! Why would he be jealous in that situation?

What was it about Clive that he wanted so much?

Luke looked up at Clive, finally releasing his grip on his arm.

“Why?” Luke asked.

The question had no context, but it felt like the only thing he could ask right now.

Clive shrugged, seeming to read into the context that wasn’t there.

“I suppose that if we keep going, we’ll find out.”

Yes. Luke would keep going. He’d keep going until Clive accepted him in the same way that the others did. And until he understood how he felt about Clive. That was a topic that might keep him occupied for some time…

“A true gentleman leaves no mystery unsolved,” murmured Luke.

“Well, I wish you luck on that mystery of yours,” hummed Clive, ruffling Luke’s hair, before getting up to leave.

“Just you wait!” Luke called after him.

Clive did not wait. And Luke couldn’t stop himself from running after him. It was a pattern that the two of them seemed to be forming.

A pattern that Luke found himself rather fond of, all things considered.