Artemis smiled. A genuine smile, this time. Beckett tore through the living room on his pudgy toddler feet, giggling maliciously with a stuffed monkey in his chubby hands. And he was gone as fast as he had appeared, apparently running from nothing. But Artemis knew. He always did.
Left in silence, Artemis returned to his essay. Soon, the teachers would realize that with every assignment, Artemis' papers became more and more complicated. Especially considering that Artemis was smarter than all of his 'teachers' combined. None of his professors had established that yet.
Artemis didn't wait long. Another small boy, nearly identical to the first, lumbered into the large family room. He was obviously exhausted, yet going as fast as his short legs would allow.
"Artemis, Beckett stoled Professor Primate," gasped Myles, his tone dripping withdesperation. Artemis' grin broadened.
"Why don't you steal it back?"
Myles was a natural scientist, made of the same stuff as Artemis. That also meant that, unlike his twin, Myles had virtually no physical ability. Beckett held a large advantage over his younger brother, and wasn't afraid to use it.
"I'm tieing, Artemis!" whined Myles. Artemis still wondered if he had sometimes slurred his words when he was little, as Myles often did. Beckett, however, had lost that habit about three months ago.
"Well, tell him that if he doesn't give Professor Primate back, then you won't give him a Christmas present this year." It was December 9th, and Christmas was on its way. Angeline had put up the Christmas tree several days previously, and she had decorated the house like the North Pole. Artemis wouldn't be surprised if Santa thought he lived there.
"Okay, Arty-miss!" Myles raced off with new-found energy. Artemis shook his head. Children.
Myles strode into the living room some thirty minutes later, a large stuffed monkey seated on his shoulders. A dejected Beckett followed with a defeated look on his small face.
"Arty-miss, what's back rail?" Beckett tiptoed to the chair Artemis was sitting in and climbed upon his lap.
"Do you mean blackmail?" asked Artemis as he gently stroked Beckett's sticky blonde curls. He immediately wished he hadn't. Would he ever learn?
"Yes," whispered Beckett. Myles had done something to him. Beckett rubbed his face against his elder brother's shirt.
"Simple-toon," muttered Myles. He stalked out of the room, towing his primate prize.
"Er… perhaps I'll tell you some other time." Artemis carefully set his brother on the floor.
"Myles said I wasn't gonna get any presents from him this year," Beckett croaked.
"That just means you'll have to write an extra-long letter to Santa Claus." replied Artemis jokingly. But understanding and confidence adorned Beckett's features. He raced from the room, only to return moments later with a pencil and a notebook. Myles poked his head into the lounge, his eyes harboring confusion and curiosity.
"Will you help me, Artemis?" begged Beckett, his eyes pleading. Myles strutted across the room, only to stand behind his twin.
"What are you helping him with?" questioned Myles. Inquisitive boy.
Artemis stood and took both of the boys by the hand. "I'm going to help you two write letters to Santa."
"So, Myles, what is one thing that you want very dearly for Christmas?" asked Artemis once the three of them were seated at the kitchen table, a blank sheet of paper and a marker for each boy.
"A big box of expresso!" bellowed Beckett.
Artemis grinned. "Okay. So, first, lets all write 'Dear Santa' at the very top of our paper."
Artemis printed the words in beautiful script, as did Myles. Well, he tried. Beckett attempted to do the same, but succeeded only in misspelling 'dear.'
"Now, write; 'The first thing I would like for Christmas is-' "
"Expresso!" yelled Beckett triumphantly, while trying valiantly to scribble down the sentence as fast as his brothers did.
"What did you ask for, Myles?" asked Artemis.
"I asked for a new Professor Primate," replied Myles.
Artemis frowned. "What happened to your old one?"
"I tore his arm off," announced Beckett, not very repentant of the fact.
"What did you write, Artemis?" remarked Myles curiously.
"Read it, if you really want to know."
Myles ripped the paper from his older brother's hands, and began reading aloud.
" 'Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is a new computer.' Hmmph"
Artemis grinned. "Well, Beckett did pour expresso on my old one."
"You have six," retorted Myles.
"Five. I had six." replied Artemis.
"Oh." Myles seemed dejected.
"Yes. It was quite the accomplishment, wasn't it, Beckett?" Beckett merely grunted in response. Artemis shrugged. "Why don't you two go play in the garden? I'll go find some stamps and mail our letters." And with that, two very energetic tots escaped to the yard.
"D'arvit!" cursed Artemis as he thumped his elbow on the refrigerator. He opened the first cabinet on his left, feeling for the stamps. His fingers brushed the smooth plastic squares, but just before he could close his fingers around the stamps, he felt a vibration in his pocket. He removed his hand and closed the cabinet, simultaneously reaching into his pocket.
"Hello?"
"Artemis, I have good news," Holly' face appeared in the center of Artemis' ring. Confident, cool, collected, and determined. As always.
"What's up?" asked Artemis curiously as he leaned easily against the counter top.
"Koboi. She's been sighted. Trouble and I are leading a retrieval team to capture her."
"Do you need any backup?" Artemis' stared into the tiny camera, a stony expression on his face.
"Not from you. I have to go kick Koboi butt. I'll call you in an hour."
"Mmmkay." muttered Artemis, snapping the communicator shut and opening the cabinet. He slipped the stamps from the top shelf, closed the cabinet, and shoved the communicator into his pocket. He walked to the back door, staring out the glass. The twins were darting about in rough horseplay. They had more energy than a bolt of lightning.
"Myles, Beckett! Come in, its time for lunch!"
The twins were sound asleep in their respective beds, both of them snoring gently as they dreamt about who knows what. Artemis was in his bedroom, tapping absently on one of his multiple computers. He'd been thinking of Holly ever since their conversation some hours ago. He frowned as he tried to recall the earlier conversation.
I have to go kick Koboi butt. I'll call you in an hour…
Artemis had never received a returning call. A cold hand clamped over his heart as he plucked the ring neatly from his pocket and dialed the number. It rang several times before someone finally answered. And that someone wasn't Holly.
"Foaly?" whispered Artemis hoarsely. "Where's Holly?"
The centaur sighed. "Artemis, Holly and Trouble ran into some obstacles out in the field…"
Artemis graspedthe communicator tightly, the intense pressure turning his knuckles white. "Foaly, what happened?"
Foaly frowned deeply. "Artemis, Holly's dead. And, to our knowledge, she was killed by Opal herself."
Artemis paled. Holly… dead? You don't know what you've got until its gone…
Foaly sagged with guilt, his tail twitching nervously. "Artemis-"
"Who was involved?" demanded Artemis fiercely.
"Artemis, now is not the time to focus on-"
"I want names, Foaly. Not excuses."
Artemis grimaced at the beads of sweat accumulating on the centaur's forehead. Just below his tinfoil hat.
"Look, I don't have all of the facts. We don't even have a body. But we do know that-"
"No body?" spat Artemis incredulously. "Then how can you prove she's dead?"
"Well, witnesses state that-"
"I don't care about witnesses." he stated flatly. " I just… She's not gone. She can't be." his thumb slid to the power button. With a faint click, the communicator shut down.