Hi all! This is my first fanfic EVER so bear with me. I'm still discovering my writing style and technique, so ALL comments and critique are welcome.
On a side note, how do I go about finding myself a competent Beta? Is there a community somewhere for finding them or something?
Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl or any character from it, nor do I intend to use this story to make a profit in any way. So there Eoin Colfer. Just try to sue me now.
Warnings: SLASH in later chapters, AU (this is a pretty fairy-less world)
On to the story!
--
Complete darkness. A crash, the sick sound of skin colliding with -- brick? -- and silence.
--
Artemis Fowl the Second sat in the back seat of a car headed west. Headed to the airport. To a plane which would take him to America.
His mother, Angeline Fowl, drove the car with a determined cheeriness and a hard glint in her eyes.
"Aunt Lorrie is just a wonderful lady, Arty dear. You're going to love her."
Or else, Artemis thought, adding his mother's unspoken but implicit words. Artemis's luggage sat on the seat beside him, heavy and imposing and too damned permanent looking. Angeline had told her son he would only be gone for a few weeks, at the most two months, but Artemis knew better. Drug lords didn't just give up and go away; it would be like the godfather holding up his hands and saying, "Why can't we all just get along?"
Artemis knew that Angeline was only trying to protect him; he was her only child, the love of her life, not to mention her only hope for grandchildren. And Angeline knew she had never been much of a parent to Arty. He was always so independent, so secretive, and so smart, even as a child. Angeline liked to boast at parties of once finding five-year-old Artemis sitting in front of the T.V. watching a foreign film and a week later holding a conversation with the chef from Quebec in French.
Still, her attempt at protecting her prodigal son was futile, at least in Artemis's mind.
The car pulled up to the main doors of the airport. Artemis eyed some shifty-looking men slink around the entrance.
Angeline turned around in her seat and cupped Artemis's cheek. "Please, Arty. Do this for me. Try to have some fun; I really think you might enjoy yourself if you tried."
"I will, Mother."
"And I'd better hear nothing but praise coming from Aunt Lorrie, do you hear me? I don't want any funny business going on over there."
"I know, Mother."
"So no trouble-making. None at all. We're agreed then."
Artemis severely doubted whether he could get up to any trouble in Pennsylvania if he tried to. What was he going to do, go cow tipping? On the other hand, Artemis Fowl the Second was virtually incapable of not succeeding at anything he tried to do.
Angeline smiled, or at least tried to, as much as any woman on the point of an emotional breakdown can. "Call me when you get there, no matter what time of day it is. I don't care if it's one in the morning and the President's dancing drunk in front of the White House without any clothes on. I want that cell phone of yours the first thing you pick up when your plane touches the ground."
"I wouldn't dream of anything else."
Angeline dabbed at her eyeliner in the mirror for a minute and rearranged wisps of her hair for another. She turned around again. "I love you, Arty. More than you'll ever understand; only a mother really can. Promise me you'll be safe."
Artemis felt something shift guiltily in one of the dark recesses of his mind.
"I promise, Mother, I promise. And ideally, I need to leave this car and check my luggage sometime before the plane leaves, you understand."
"Oh Arty." Angeline twisted in her seat to plant a kiss on Artemis's forehead. "Well, go on then, before I change my mind!"
"Goodbye, Mother," Artemis said, exasperated.
Artemis opened the door and stepped into a cloud of fog, everything blurry while his eyes adjusted to the dim light.
"Artemis."
Artemis turned in the direction of that familiar, deep voice and squinted at the mountain of a man before him.
"Butler. I trust you had an enjoyable ride?"
Butler plucked Artemis's bags off the seat as if they held nothing but air and nodded to Angeline. He slammed the door shut - doors couldn't really be anything but slammed where Butler was concerned - and the car turned, disappearing onto the highway.
Butler studied the tendrils of smoke the car had left in its wake before glancing at the stretch limo the Fowl family had provided for him. "It was a...pleasant experience to have myself driven somewhere for once."
"Trust Angeline to come up with the idea of some mother-son road trip before I'm practically kicked out of the house. Honestly, I'm surprised she even has a license."
Butler snorted and lifted the suitcases with one hand. "Ready?" He grabbed Artemis without waiting for a reply and marched him into the building.
Artemis once again felt it prudent to half-heartedly argue with Butler about the necessity of being babysat until tucked into his seat on the airplane. After all, Butler would expect it.
"You claim you cannot come with me because...he...has agents with yard-long reports on everything from your height to the size of your jock cup. Does it not seem possible that his agents are watching all airports in Ireland and will spot you? You are a hard sight to miss, I must say."
"They would be looking for you anyway, even if I weren't with you. So what's the difference? If they're here, I'll find them."
"And kill them. You really don't need to accompany me. I'm more than capable of handling this myself."
"I know."
"Then I'm having trouble understanding the reasoning behind your continued surveillance of my bodily person."
"Like you have trouble understanding anything. Artemis, I'm not enough of a fool to trust you any farther than I could throw you. Which is actually a hell of a lot farther than most people could," Butler said. By then the luggage had been tagged and transported to wherever it is luggage goes to at an airport, and bodyguard and principle sat secluded in a corner of the President's Club, Artemis sniffing disdainfully at cubes of cheese on toothpicks and Butler giving the eye to anyone stupid enough to walk within ten feet of them. "And that's barring the fact that airports are the breeding ground for whack jobs."
A voice crackled over the speakers. "Flight 23E will begin boarding in 15 minutes. I repeat, boarding for Flight 23E will begin in 15 minutes. 15 minutes for 23E."
Why they needed to repeat the same sentence five different ways Artemis didn't think he'd ever understand, but he suspected it was because they were all just idiots. Anyway, he had been waiting to hear that very announcement for the past half an hour. Finally.
"Butler, I would like to find a washroom before leaving."
Now is the time, any later and I'll be cutting it too close for comfort, Artemis thought
"It's to the right, next to the water fountain," Butler said, heaving himself out of his chair and heading in the aforementioned direction.
"Butler," Artemis said, placing a hand on his bodyguard's arm, "It's practically two feet away. Can't a seventeen-year-old have a modicum of privacy?"
Butler huffed, but relented. "I'll be waiting just outside the door," he said, casting Artemis a warning look.
It can't be this easy, Artemis thought. It really can't. Doesn't Butler know any better by now?
Now if only his damned conscience would take a lunch break. These nagging doubts were really becoming all too frequent.
--
Artemis Fowl the Senior opened his eyes and then really wished he hadn't. If that was his blood all over the floor - and he was pretty sure it wasn't old Mrs. Bakely's from down the street - than he was fucked. Royally fucked.
Knock knock at the door.
Who's there? Artemis the Senior thought.
Another knock at the door.
Then it opened.